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chickadee-djarin · 3 years ago

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Chapter Three: The Promise

Fandom: The Mandalorian (Star Wars) Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Summary: Din struggles to come to terms with the risk traveling with him poses to your safety, but you won’t hear it.

Word count: 1.3k Warnings: vague mention of previous injury, otherwise none

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The temperature inside the Razor Crest continued to rise, sweat dripping down your brow and your breath catching as you stumbled back. You were falling for what felt like the hundredth time but Din’s hand darted out and grabbed your forearm, one of his feet hooking around your own to keep it planted. He pulled you forward and you found yourself standing on both feet instead of sitting on your ass.

“Focus,” Din said, letting go of you and taking up his stance again. “Keep your guard up, don’t drop your hands.”

“You drop your hands all the time,” you scowled, taking your own stance again.

“I can afford to,” he tapped his knuckles against his helmet. It was the only piece of beskar he was wearing, safe in the confines of the Crest as it flew through hyperspace. He’d removed the rest for your sake, the two of you down to your flight suits – the tops open and tied at your waists – and undershirts as you sparred in the cargo hold. Even your boots sat off to the side, below the lone bunk where the child sat. He held his favorite ball in his claws, rolling it as he watched the two of you.

After the events of Mygeeto only days ago, Din had insisted on teaching you hand to hand combat. Although your injuries were superficial and had already healed, he still kicked himself for not doing so earlier. He was determined now that you be able to defend yourself – not only in the event you found yourself alone – but also in the event you lost your weapon again.

So you continued what you had teased was his version of a dance: you, attempting and failing to land a hit; him, easily avoiding you and occasionally knocking you off your feet. Another hour passed before he deemed the day’s training sufficient, and you immediately moved to sit below the child on the floor. Din tossed a canteen your way before moving towards the cockpit, intending to check the nav computer. Your voice stopped him though-

“Do you really think Koresh knows where other Mandalorians are?”

Din paused, one foot on the ladder as he turned to look at you over his shoulder. “It’s the best lead we have.”

“That’s not a yes,” your voice was flat, unimpressed. Although you’d never done business with the gangster, you knew of his reputation. Gor Koresh was a thug, a stout Abyssin who preferred to do his business at the scene of underground fighting rings. His clients were known to wind up cheated or dead – every one of them – and Din hadn’t missed the way you’d tensed when he first mentioned the name.

“Cyar’ika,” he sighed, stepping away from the ladder. “We’ve been over this-”

“And we’ll go over it again, Din. I don’t like this-” As you spoke, leaning against the bunk and drenched in sweat, hair falling in your face, the kid decided he’d rather sit in your lap. The little womp rat seemed unbothered by your state as you helped him climb down. He happily showed you his ball and you paused voicing your disapproval at Din’s plan to coo at him.

The brief reprieve allowed Din a moment to watch you both, a glimpse of something he hadn’t thought of before – a feeling he couldn’t quite name.

“This is dangerous,” you continued, your eyes still on the kid as he settled in your lap. “What if he’s heard about the kid?”

“There aren’t many who haven’t, by now.”

Your eyes snapped up to him, the frown on your face deepening. “And you still think this is a good idea? To take a child previously wanted by both the Empire and the Guild-”

“If I don’t take the kid, Koresh may become suspicious-”

“Is that meant to justify your plan?”

“No,” Din’s voice was quiet, calm as it always was when speaking to you. Another effect you had on him. “But this isn’t my first time doing business with him. He knows what to expect. We’ll make another deal.”

You scoffed. Din was always making deals with people – it was how you came to be flying with him. It was how you’d gotten the jobs on Ryloth and Dantooine, even how you’d gotten a new cloak after he’d used your old one to stop you from bleeding out on Kintan. But it wasn’t that Din was always making deals that bothered you; it was that he always expected others to hold up their end. Sure, he was prepared for them not to. But he still kept trying.

From your lap, the kid cooed and you were reminded why Din always made deals. Doing so was safe – doing so was honest work, and honest work made people trust you.

And you’d come to trust Din entirely.

Din watched as the tension seemed to shake loose from your shoulders, as your hand came up to scratch the kid’s ear. Another coo and a small smile tugged at your lips.

Domesticity. That’s what Din had caught a glimpse of.

“Okay,” you spoke again, standing and turning to place the kid in his hammock above the bunk. “But I’m not sure I can get my new comm working before we arrive.”

Behind you, Din shifted uneasily. His voice came hesitant even through the modulation, “That won’t be an issue.”

You faced him with a raised brow, a questioning look written on your face as you thought of Mygeeto. But where you thought he meant to keep you beside him at all times, he actually meant to keep you aboard the ship. He told you as much, but his concern for your safety fell on deaf ears.

“You’ll take the kid, but you won’t take me?”

Din tried to explain, to tell you that while the kid would be expected you wouldn’t. He tried to explain that Koresh knew his own reputation, too, and that he didn’t fly with others. What he couldn’t voice was the slight fear though. Din knew if he showed up- if Koresh saw you standing at the Mandalorian’s side, he would know what you were to him. Koresh would see your value instantly, recognizing you as a weapon to be used against him. He’d see you as a tool, something to be used and tossed aside. You’re safety would be at risk, and Din felt the increasing need to keep you safe.

“Cyar’ika-”

“Don’t, Din. Don’t ‘cyar’ika’ me. I’m going-”

“No, you’re not.” Din crossed the hull to stand before you, gripping your arms firmly as you attempted to turn away from him. He had yet to put his gloves back on, his hands still bare from your sparring and the feel of his skin against yours caused you to falter. Although he’d been without them for hours- although you knew his name and had already adjusted to using it freely within the Crest- you still weren’t quite over the shock of how it all felt. You still weren’t quite over the shock of how he made you feel, of how much such small gestures meant.

“Please, cyar’ika,” he stood mere inches before you, his visor fixed on your face as his hands gently slid down the length of your arms. “Trust me on this. You’ll be safer here, and I need you to be safe.”

You felt his fingers wraparound your wrists, your heart rate increasing but you didn’t dare tear your gaze away from where you knew his eyes to be. “I need you to be safe too, y’know,” your voice came quiet.

Din felt your own hands turn, your fingers grazing his but not pulling away. He saw the way you glanced at them for a moment and how your shoulders sagged ever so slightly. But then your gaze found his again and you nodded, “Come back to me.”

“I will. I promise.”

A/N || Once again, this fic kicked my ass! It’s the first time I’ve written a reader insert - I’ve always written OCs - and it’s proving to be quite the challenge for me. I’m not sure why, but it’s just enough to throw me off while writing. I’m finding other aspects that I don’t usually struggle with to be very difficult, and that’s been a very frustrating hurdle to get over. But alas, chapter three was eventually written! (And rewritten and rewritten and rewritten and..) Many, many thanks to one of my Tumblr wifeys, Ava, for being so lovely and kindly commenting and giving me the motivation to take a deep breath, step away for a bit, and come back renewed and refocused on trying again.

As always, I hope y’all enjoyed it! I’m also quite proud to tell y’all this series has officially been titled: Trust Fall. Hoping y’all will catch the theme that inspired the title throughout the fic.

TAGLIST || @dreaming-about-fanfictions @avaeverstone @ravioliraviolitellmetheformioli @chook007 @startrekkingaroundasgard @kookiecamera @hlabounty96

#din djarin #djarin x reader #my writing #fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #trust fall #chapter three #the promise

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iwaisa · 4 years ago

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request. juabsba t h i r st Yamaguchi is an awkward mans but 🥵🥵 can you write something where him and the reader haven’t done a lot of stuff, and one day he lets her use his computer for homework and when she opens it there’s porn, where someone is being eaten out and Yamaguchi is like “akauanbabsba IM SO SORRY” and the reader is like “Can we do that 👉👈🥺 can you kiss me down there” hzshsg that scenario has just been in my mind - anon

a/n. ugh YES i love this so so much thank you for this beautiful ask nonnie 😽😽

(also i got wayyy too carried away with his HAHA)

► now playing...

- pairing. yamaguchi x female reader

- genre. nsfw ! (characters are in their third year)

- warnings. smut, cunnilingus, one (1) kind of embarrassing situation? maybe two

- word count. 1.7k+

yamaguchi was a busy man - being captain of the volleyball team and all. his responsibilities only grew, leaving less time for the two of you to spend alone together. his desire to simply cuddle up with you on his bed or yours while watching a movie was becoming too much, and all he wanted to do was be with you.

not only was he starved of your affection, he was also beginning to grow antsy with each lingering touch he gave you. his hands stayed on your hips longer, his kisses began to trail down your jaw, and he couldn’t stop himself from checking your body out, even in the school uniform.

you noticed your boyfriend’s obvious antics of course, and you couldn’t deny that your desire to go further with your relationship was growing. thoughts of touching him in places he’s never been touched before plagued your mind, even in class. you even found yourself wondering what his moans would sound like.

yamaguchi seemed to be having a harder time with his lewd thoughts. since he got out of volleyball late each day due to captain duties, he wasn’t able to have you over at his house as often. dates were cut short by academic responsibilities as well, as being in higher classes meant less time for goofing off and more time for preparing for college.

yamaguchi resorted to watching porn in his free time, and he wondered if you did the same. if so, what kind of porn did you like? what positions intrigued you the most? how did you like to touch yourself? did you want him to touch you like those guys do in those videos?

any and all thoughts quickly dissolved by the time he met up with you, however, as he never wanted his taboo ideas to scare you off. it was only when he was alone in the comfort of his bedroom would he let his mind wander, imagining you in front of him on your knees instead of his fist around his pulsating cock. he was quick to think of himself as disgusting after he looked at his toned abdomen painted in his release, his insecurities getting the best of him. how would you react if you knew of the lewd way your boyfriend was imagining you?

today was going to be especially hard, he thought. his eyes failed to stay on the textbook in front of him, but who could blame him? the skirt you wore today was pretty damn short. but who was he to complain? he loved the view of your pretty lace panties, and he wondered if you had meant to wear those just for him.

he used his duvet to cover his unfortunate state, his boner growing each passing second he glanced over to see your exposed thighs from where you sat leaning against his bed. any noise you made caused him to jump, which didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“tadashi? you’ve been jumping a lot. like just now,” you pointed out. he was quick to pull himself together, practically forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your legs.

“i’m alright! just trying to figure out these equations,” he lied.

you nodded your head, “can i borrow your computer for a little bit? i left mine at home and i need to finish my draft for english.”

he was quick to respond by reaching in front of him to pick up the computer, handing it over to you. he let out a quiet sigh, forcing himself to focus on the paper in front of him. he was halfway through writing the answer to an equation when he heard a very sultry moan come from his computer.

yamaguchi’s eyes widened as he practically snapped his whole body to face you. there on full display, the screen showed a video of a man enthusiastically eating a woman out. yamaguchi felt his heart shatter into a plethora of bits at the idea that you’d think he’s a freak for watching this type of stuff, but he couldn’t help himself - he was only a teenager.

he finally broke out of his thoughts, standing up to quickly grab the computer from your grasp, ignoring the raging bulge in his joggers.

“i’m so sorry! shit, that’s really weird. i-i’m so so sorry f/n!” he was sweating bullets as he shut the computer lid with a loud snap, his hand quickly coming up to hide his crimson face. it seemed like an hour had passed before he heard your soft voice cut through the uncomfortable silence.

“tadashi? can we uhm...try that?”

his eyes flew open, watching you through the gaps in his fingers as your thighs clenched together, arousal shooting through your whole self. he nearly came right then and there at your proposal, his cock jumping at how innocent you looked and sounded.

“w-what?”

you cleared your throat and stood up, linking your fingers through his. “the uhm...video. do you want to do that?”

yamaguchi gulped, fighting the urge to pull his sweaty hands out of your grasp. he slowly removed his hand from his face, squeezing his eyes shut before landing his gaze on yours.

“are you sure? i-i don’t want you to feel like you have to just because you saw that. i mean of course i want to do that with you, i’m supposed to be a good boyfriend and please you and-”

you cut him off, “tadashi.” you raised your eyebrows, your gaze turning stern. “you’re an amazing boyfriend. the best, in fact. not to mention my first boyfriend. and...i’ve been wanting to do something with you for a while,” you trailed off, embarrassment creeping up your spine.

the two of you stood there for a few moments, before yamaguchi squeezed your hand, urging you to look at him. “tell me if you want to stop, okay angel?” you nodded, pushing your nerves away.

yamaguchi leaned in slowly, pulling your body flush against his. he whispered a quick ‘i love you’ before locking lips with you, his other hand wrapping around your waist. your free hand made its way up to rest on the nape of his neck, playing with his baby hairs.

he began backing you up towards the bed, breaking away from the kiss to let you lay on the duvet. he blindly shoved his textbooks and papers out of the way as he connected his mouth to yours again, massaging your tongue with his. your soft whimpers beneath him sent his blood straight to his cock, and it was becoming painfully hard for him to continue.

he began moving his kisses down your jaw, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, grunting in response to your gorgeous mewls. lifting up your shirt, his eyes widened as he noticed there was no fabric covering your nipples.

he glanced up at you in surprise, watching as you bit your bottom lip in embarrassment. before you could open your mouth to defend why you weren’t wearing a bra, his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, his tongue slowly swirling around the hardening bud. the loud moan you let slip was music to his ears as he continued moving south, his hands fumbling with the waistline of your skirt.

he glanced up once more to get approval to slip your skirt down your plush thighs, finally being able to see you. he practically licked his lips as he stared at your panties, your arousal seeping through the material. yamaguchi couldn’t help but glance up at your flushed face once more, the look you gave him causing him to gulp once more.

he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your clothed cunt, his lips quirking into a slight smile at the lewd moan you made. he made quick work of slipping the garment off, tossing it somewhere in his room.

he watched in awe as your cunt clenched around nothing, your folds glistening in your slick.

“you’re so wet,” he mumbled out, quickly shooting his hand to cover his mouth. “sorry, that was really blunt. i- uh...you’re beautiful,” he mumbled quickly, using his finger to collect your juices.

“tadashi, please,” you pleaded, propping yourself up on your forearms. he nodded, gulping for the umpteenth time before leaning forward to lick a stripe up your folds. the moan that escaped your mouth was downright pornographic, and yamaguchi felt himself growing impossibly harder by the minute.

he continued licking up your arousal, using his middle finger to prod at your entrance. you gasped as he slid into you, your hands making their way to his olive tresses. your back was now pressed against the mattress as yamaguchi ate you out like a man starved. he was unable to stop himself from humping the duvet as your moans made their way to his ears.

he groaned against your folds, the vibrations coursing through your body causing you to buck your hips into his face. he used his free hand to pin your thighs onto the bed, continuing to attempt to relieve his own pent-up arousal.

you felt the coil in your stomach unwinding rapidly, your release approaching faster than you’ve ever experienced before. unfortunately for yamaguchi, he felt the same, his own orgasm threatening to hit him at any moment.

his fingers pistoned in and out of you, his lips and tongue continuing to pleasure your clit. you cried out as his finger pressed up against your spongey walls, forcing your orgasm to hit you full force. yamaguchi slowed his pace as he helped you through your high, internally smacking himself for the wet patch forming in his boxers.

he pulled away, gently slipping his fingers out of your sensitive cunt. he attempted to hide himself, his face growing red from embarrassment and shame that he came in his pants. much to his dismay, you noticed, taking that time to tease him about it.

“tadashi, did you really cum in your pants from eating me out?” he stopped dead in his tracks at your words, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

“i-i’m sorry, it was just really...hot,” he mumbled, still refusing to make eye contact with you. you sat up on your knees, crawling towards your boyfriend, watching with a smirk as his eyes widened as your fingers rubbed over his clothed cock.

“it’s okay, angel. just let me help you out now.”

smut taglist. @otsut-writing @ash-writes-things

#yamaguchi smut #nsfw!#yamaguchi tadashi #tadashi yamaguchi #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #tadashi yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi x fem!reader #yamaguchi x female reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Title: Lasting Rivalries.

Word Count: 4.1k

Written for an anonymous commissioner.

Synopsis: Izuku loves you, but he doesn’t like Katsuki very much. It’s just a shame he can’t separate one feeling from the other.

TW: Kidnapping, Captivity, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Death, Delusional Mindsets, and Emotional Manipulation.

[Part One] / [Part Three]

If you thought about it, you could still feel his hands on your skin.

It’d been hours since you were strapped to that bed, hours since he tormented Katsuki and made you suffer and mistook his delusional, crazed jealousy as love, or something close to it, at least. It’s been hours, and yet, if you closed your eyes, you could still feel his heatless touch, the way his skin seemed to leech the warmth from yours and how no amount of time and shivering could bring back what you’d lost. You’d done what you could to rid yourself of the feeling. After he… finished, you’d been too weak to try to run, and he’d been too love-struck to care if you did. As much as you’d wanted to, you hadn’t resisted as he undid your restraints, as he wrapped you in his suit jacket and dragged you - stumbling and reluctant - through the halls of his bunker.

When he brought you to a bedroom, dark and dim but only half as dirty as the room you’d come from, you hadn’t tried to push your way past him as he locked the door and explained that some of his men were untrustworthy, that ‘Kacchan’ might get loose and try to hunt you down, that the locks were for your own good. You’d flinched as he slid the slick, black keycard into the tiny slit, the one that’d keep you trapped here, the one you should be scrambling to find a way to pick, to break, or smash into such an unrepairable state, you and Izuku would both starve in here together. But, you hadn’t, and you’d lost the opportunity to.

There was a cramped, militaristic bathroom attached to the suite, and you’d stood under the rusted shower-head until the boiling water blistered your skin, then went cold, then went freezing, and you had to get out or face the repercussions of hypothermia. It’d been uncomfortable, it’d been painful, but it’d been a cleansing pain, the kind that cleared your head and made it a little easier to process the world around you, to differentiate what was happening now to what was already over, what you couldn’t change. What had left you sore and bruised and aching, but what you’d survived, and what you would get past, eventually. You’d get back to Katsuki, and then--

Oh, god.

Katsuki.

You’d been moved to another bedroom, but if Izuku had any intention of doing anything his less-favored captive, you hadn’t been able to tell. No, he’d been left bound and muzzled to rot in his own affliction, and if Izuku’s aggressive apathy was sincere, you doubted he’d be treated with much kindness, going forward. It felt wrong thinking about your boyfriend like that, a victim who needed to be saved, someone who needed to be helped rather than the guiding hand you’d always known him as. He was a hero, and you weren’t. He was strong, and in so, so many ways, you couldn’t be. But, he couldn’t do anything heroic while he was restrained from wrist to ankle, so it was beginning to seem like you might have to be--

“Darling, are you alright?”

You stiffed as soon as you heard his voice, going rigid and scrambling for a weapon, a shield, something to defend yourself, but Izuku was already opening the bathroom door, stepping in before you had a chance to make a move. You could only be glad you’d already pulled on the clothes he was generous enough to provide, even if one of his white button-down shirts did little to separate you from his prying gaze. But, you doubted he’d be able to give you anything sturdy enough to block that out.

His expression softened when he saw you, his eyes lighting up with the faint, flickering glow he hadn’t bothered to hide when you first woke up, in his captivity. You tried to scowl, attempting to glare at the barren floor as imposingly as you could manage, but it couldn’t have been very effective. Izuku didn’t hesitate to approach you, to come too close, to think too little, only stopping when he was directly in front of you, one hand cupping your cheek and the other coming to rest on your arm, drawing circles in your bicep as if you were a scared animal that needed to be soothed. You supposed you were. Despite your budding plans, you couldn’t help but shiver so violently whenever he was near enough to meet your eyes, let alone put his hands on you.

He didn’t try to deny it. “Poor baby… You’re still scared, aren’t you?” A small, patronizing smile painted itself across his face, just barely pulling at the corners of his lips. You didn’t nod, didn’t try to answer, but he didn’t seem to need you to, either. With a quiet hum, he continued, speaking more to his paranoia than to yours. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re with me, now, and Kacchan’s going to be taken care of.” There was a pause, a playful wink. As if you should be proud you’d been important enough to earn a few hours of his time. “I’m won’t let anything bad happen to you. Certainly not by his hand, not again.”

You flinched at the mention of Katsuki, and this time, you were thankful that Izuku wasn’t paying attention to you. Not enough to care about such a small show of displeasure, at least. “You’ll take care of him?” You asked, hesitantly, still unsure how far you wanted to push his boundaries. “What do you mean? How long are you going to keep us here?”

“How long am I going to keep you here,” He corrected, softly, just beginning to tilt your head back. He let out a soft chuckle, as if the statement was a joke he’d been telling himself far too long for it to be truly, genuinely funny. “Just you. He’ll be lucky to make it through the night.”

You should’ve expected that. You knew it was going to happen. You knew Izuku had to be planning something for Katsuki, something violent and something inpermanent.

You should’ve expected that, but it still felt so awful to hear.

Now more than ever, you should’ve tried to stay calm. You should’ve been composed, and you should’ve accepted the development with a purse of your lips and strategic silence, the kind that’d mean anything Izuku wanted it to mean. But, he’d just threaten someone’s life, he’d just threatened your boyfriend’s life, and he should’ve counted him lucky you only got mad. It took every ounce of your self-restraint not to lunge at him, consequences be damned. “You can’t do that. You went through the effort of getting both of us, you can’t just--”

“I can do anything I want to.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it the kind of arrogant declaration made by someone with too much power for it not to go to his head. It was a truth, a fact. Or, Izuku thought it was, at least. “He’s been a thorn in my side for decades, and I’ve been much too sentimental when it comes to removing him. He’s a disgrace to the world of Heroes. He’s a disgrace to the world. I can’t justify giving him another chance to root himself under my skin.” A sigh, a languid shake of his head. He let go of your cheek, but having him take up your wrists and press your hands against his chest was only a minor improvement. “If he gets free, he won’t stop until I’m dead and you’re locked away somewhere so deep and somewhere so dark, you’ll be lucky to ever see sunlight again. I love you too much to risk losing you, but I promise, I’ll never be half as mean as Kacchan. If someone ever tried to take you away from me, I wouldn’t stop until their head was mounted in my office.”

“If you lay a finger on him,” You spat, fighting the urge not to pull away from him. “I’ll never think of you as anything but a monster--”

You didn’t get a chance to finish. This time, he didn’t let your little show of rebellion slide. Still, you heard the blow before you felt it - a sharp, sterile crack of skin against skin, and then the burning, the flare of heat, a spark that ignited everything from your jaw to the bridge of your nose. It took you a moment to process what he’d done. A moment too long, for such a simplistic offense.

He’d slapped you.

It was so straight-forward, so impulsive, you weren’t sure whether to be angry or afraid or something between, something darker than either emotion could fully cover. He hadn’t hurt you yet, not in a way that’d be so difficult to hide behind a half-hearted justification and an excuse about love or protection or something lovely and rotten. You weren’t sure whether that made it better or worse. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Izuku didn’t seem sure either, if you were being honest. As soon as you moved to nurse your bruising cheek, he was on top of you, one of his arms draped around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest, leaving his free hand to card through your hair and flit around the edges of your minor injury, a worried scowl pulling at the edges of his lips. But, Izuku didn’t move to apologize, only attempting to open his mouth before whatever he was going to stay was muted by a grimace - obviously horrified, but far from regretful. When he finally broke the silence, his stance didn’t seem to change. Disappointed, but not shocked. Distressed, but resolute, at the same time.

“I.. I shouldn’t have done that,” He admitted, his posture straightening defensively. He pulled away, slightly, scanning over your face. As if he hadn’t already done so much more to harm you. “You just… you have to understand that this is for your own good, (Y/n). You’re going to be happy with me, I want you to be happy, but you’re going to have to let go of that stain, first. This is what he does to people.” There was a pause, a shake of his head, and slowly, he fell away from you, taking a step back when you failed to react. “He drives them apart. He makes people hate each other. You can’t trust anything he says. Bringing him back to my hideout was a mistake, I should’ve killed him in his sleep - clearly, he’s already worked himself into your brain.” Izuku bowed his head. It was the closest he’d come to showing his remorse, and you had a feeling it was the closest he would come. “I should’ve taken care of this sooner. I shouldn’t have drawn it out. I’m going to take care of it, I will take care of it. I’m not going to let him do anymore damage, not when you’re at stake.”

He turned, starting towards the bathroom door without another word. You didn’t think, you didn’t give yourself time to. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself from faltering, if you did.

Frantically, you stumbled forward, grabbing Izuku’s forearm and taking him by the sleeve, dragging him back towards you. Acidic bile rose in your throat at the thought of giving him what he wanted, but that didn’t stop you from clenching your eyes shut and forcing out the words, regardless of how much they burnt at your tongue. “Midoriya,” You mumbled, fighting not to stutter over such a simple sentiment. “I don’t think I can… I might not be able to… Could you---Could you stay?” Your grip tightened around his wrist, your nails digging into cloth and the thin, pale skin underneath. If Izuku cared, though he didn’t pull away, and you took that as a cue to keep going. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep, alone.”

The declaration was too hasty, too sudden, too flat and too desperate, but Izuku’s eyes still lit up, whatever skepticism he might’ve felt fading into a broad, careless smile. As enamoured as it was entrapping.

“Of course, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.”

Izuku slept. You didn’t.

You doubted you’d be able to. Even when you tried to relax, when you tried to close your eyes and put on a convincing act, you could never get further than curling into yourself and willing Izuku not to notice the way you trembled despite the humid air, how easy it was to make you shy away despite his touch being relatively innocent, considering what he’d proved himself to be capable of. He’d rambled on about he’d always be there for you, rambling off threats and the mutilations he’d be willing to commit in your name like bedtime stories, but for all his vows of protection and security, he’d been quick to fall silent as soon as he realized you weren’t contradicting him, anymore, his body limp and still half-slouched against your side. His weight was oppressive, and you doubted any amount of rest would aid the dark-bags dyed into the skin under his eyes, but it was fine, it was perfect. If anything, you should be glad he was so exhausted.

It would be easier to pick his pockets, when he was asleep.

It wasn’t a difficult task, something you’d done a dozen different times with drunk friends you thought you could trust with your keys, but you still froze in place every time he made a sound, even as your fingers slipped into his left pocket, the one you’d been staring down since he first showed you this shiny new cage. You went still as he let out a groan, stiffening as he burrowed himself deeper into your shoulder, but you knew you’d get what you want as soon as your fingers brushed against that warm, metallic shape. The key to the rest of his bunker, the key to getting out of here.

The keycard.

Your keycard, now.

Repositioning Izuku to lay against the headboard as gently as you could, you slipped off the cot, your bare feet hitting the pavement floor silently as you found the exit and pushed your prize into its designated slot, your hands steady for the first time that night. There was a small, high-pitched ping, but Izuku didn’t stir, didn’t wake up. You could only hope you’d be out of his reach, by the time he did.

The halls of his bunker were surprisingly empty, considering how expansive Izuku’s organization was supposed to be, but that didn’t stop you from pausing at every turn, holding your breath whenever you heard the sound of another voice, doing your best to imitate the way trained Heroes were supposed to move, when they didn’t get caught. You couldn’t be sure where Katsuki was being kept, hell, you barely knew which direction you should be going in, but there wasn’t much you could do, not beyond picking a hall and hoping it didn’t lead you into the stronghold of Izuku’s labyrinth. You had to be quiet, but fast. You had to be stealthy, but effective. You had to be so, so many things, but…

Apparently you couldn’t be any of those things.

As you moved to round another corner, your back pressed against the wall and heart struggling not to beat any louder than it had to, something latched onto your shoulder, jerking you backward as a hand shot out, sealing itself over your mouth as you haulted, caught between the reflex to scream and the awareness that you shouldn’t attract more attention than you absolutely had to. As a compromise, you didn’t make noise, but you struggled, thrashing and kicking and throwing your elbow into your assailant’s chest, but all your efforts earned were a tightened grip and a soft grunt, throaty but muffled, not meant to be heard.

“Really, babe?” He asked, his voice just as quiet as his sounds of discomfort. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

It took you a second too long to recognize that voice, much lower and much drier than the endearing arrogance you’d grown fond of. The voice you only heard while you were sitting in uncomfortable, plastic chairs beside hospital beds, on the scenes of attacks where the dust had already settled and the medics has long-since finished doing what they could. It meant exhaustion, it meant injury, it meant dehydration and desolation and suffering, but god, were you glad to hear it.

You didn’t even try to hold yourself up, not after you realized how many times you’d fallen into the pair of arms wrapped around you. No, you just went slack, letting a grimy, blood, glorious Katsuki support you as you went slack. It might’ve been the relief. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since the last time you’d seen him, but you'd been so, so worried, and just knowing he was still alive seemed to make all the difference in the world. It might’ve been the stress, the adrenaline, you didn’t think you really cared, not as long as you could twist around and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest as he pulled you closer, entangling his fingers in your hair and pushing a soft, lingering kiss into the top of your head, his touch so much less preformative than Izuku’s, so much more loving. You wanted to melt into it. You wanted to attach yourself to him and never, ever leave his side again. You wanted him to hold you, and you didn’t want anyone to rip him away again.

But, he was already moving back, taking you by the waist and scanning over you, looking for signs of further abuse. “What happened? Did he hurt you--”

“What happened to you?” It was all you could do not to yell, not to scream. You’d been assaulted, but he’d been cornered, he’d almost been killed. “Midoriya was going to… He made it sound like you were already half-way dead. I thought he was going to get to you before I did.”

“With the weak-ass lackeys he sent to do it? Those motherfuckers couldn’t put a scratch on me, not once the kiddie-gloves came off,” He scoffed, smirking confidently, if only to calm you down. You doubted there hadn’t been a fight, there was always a fight with Katsuki, but if he could brag about it, he could pretend things were fine for a few more minutes, long enough to run and make you think everything would be alright, too. “If Deku could kill me, he would’ve done it by now. You’ve got nothing to worry about, not when it comes to me.”

For the first time since you’d escaped from Izuku’s hold, you let yourself exhale, rigid tension melting off in waves. “Promise?

His grip loosened, but any hope you might’ve lost was quickly restored as his hands fell, taking up yours and squeezing lightly. “I promise.”

There might’ve been another hug, another kiss. There might’ve been one, or their might’ve been many, if you had another minute, another second, another moment. But, all too suddenly, all too realistically, Izuku or some force under his control was determined to separate you, this time in the form of flashing blue lights and sirens so loud, you could hardly hear Katsuki curse as he took up your wrist and started running.

You hadn’t known where to go, but Katsuki seemed to. Whether it was through luck, overheard information, or blind inhibition, he found his way to the exit, or, rather, what you had to assume was supposed to be the exit. You must’ve been underground, because the only way out seemed to be a thin, utilitisic staircase, wide enough for one person and so steep, a ladder might’ve been a more practical choice. The climb wasn’t what concerned you, though, you’d scale a mountain if it meant getting a little further from Izuku, but it didn’t seem like that was a choice you’d get to make.

You should’ve expected it. You should’ve seen it coming as soon as the bunker went into lock down, as soon as you’d been naive enough to leave Izuku alone without slitting his throat, first. It made sense. You hated it, but it made sense.

You wouldn’t make it through, because faster than you could run, a thick metal sheet was sprouting from either side of the doorway, nearly blocking your only way out.

You wouldn’t make it.

But, Katsuki could.

He moved the same time you did, scrambling to get a grip on your forearm as you pulled yourself free of his hold, barely bothering to work your way behind him before you shoved Katsuki through the narrow exit, forcing him through the small gap before he could process what you were doing. He might’ve yelled, might’ve tried to clamber his way back to you, but any sound was cut off by the make-shift door sliding into place. Even if any of his curses or rants or screams made it through the barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to hear them. Before you could think to run, before you could think to do anything, something sleek and smooth and strong wrapped around your neck, slamming your back into the nearest wall. A leather glove, as familiar as it was fatal.

You didn’t have to look to know it was Izuku.

You didn't have to, but it wasn’t like he was ever going to give you a choice.

“Congratulations,” He growled, the back of his hand pushing into the bottom of your chin, forcing your head back and keeping your eyes level with his, frozen terror forced to stand on the same ground as swirling, spiraling rage, a lightless flame that burnt at the edges of your vision and made your entire body feel cold. “You saved your boyfriend for a whole three seconds. What makes you think I can’t just send someone after him while I break every single one of your kleptomanic little fingers.”

You swallowed, but you didn’t hesitate. You knew what you were going to say. “You won’t.”

He grit his teeth. “And why’s that, angel?”

“Because if you do,” You started, letting your focus drop to the scuffed cement at your feet. “I’ll never stop hating you.”

There was a disgruntled frown, a move to pull away, but you were the one to cling to him, this time, to throw yourself into his chest and pray he didn’t notice how badly your shoulders were shaking, how much you didn’t want to go on. But, you had to. He’d kill Katsuki, if you didn’t. He might’ve killed you, if you didn’t. “Please, please, just let him go! Do this for me, and I swear, I’ll stay with you.” Izuku stopped, but he didn’t pry you off of him. You took that as a silent cue to continue, to grovel for all your life was worth. “I won’t try to run. I won’t try to fight. I won’t even talk back. You can have me, but you need to let Katsuki go.”

Despite your desperation, Izuku didn’t seem convinced. His fist balled around the collar of your shirt as he tossed a glance over his shoulder, signaling to one of his associates out of the group forming behind him - a brunette on the shorter side, one who looked like she’d just rolled out of bed to run to Izuku’s aid. “Uraraka, get me their file. There could be a quirk--”

“There isn’t.” It was an instinctive correction, albeit one that burnt at the tip of your tongue as you choked it out. “I mean, you shouldn’t bother. I’m… I’m quirkless.”

There was a pause, a recalculation, and for the second time that day, you saw Izuku’s mind work to twist around a piece of new information, his expression softening as he rearranged formless parts into a more suitable, more agreeable whole. One he could accept, one that let him be angry with Katsuki rather than you. It was revolting. It was sickening. It was pathetic, but you didn’t try to push him away as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and burying his face in your hair, insecurities boiling the surface in tandem with the jagged, ugly shapes his delusions were so eager to take on. “Poor baby,” He sighed, the words almost lost to the airiness of his voice. “No wonder you needed to get Kacchan as far as possible, I wouldn’t be able to rest if I was in your position, either. You should’ve said something sooner, I would’ve been able to help.”

He continued to fuss, continued to lament your shared limitations as he pulled you through the forming crowd, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything but how his skin burnt where it touched yours. You wanted to pull away. You didn’t want to let him touch you, you didn’t want to let him pretend he cared about you, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t.

All you could do was bite your tongue and hope Izuku loved you more than he hated Katsuki.

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lovlydovlyjaycie · 4 years ago

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Ævi - Frontlines

Hey again! This will be a continued series. The first Ævi series is in my masterlist and is only four parts. This is going to be a ongoing series, so there is going to be a lot more of Ævi to come. :)

Summary: Y/n or also known as Ævi has lived through varies of world events. Now it is 1941, she has excepted that some things cannot be changed so Loki has convinced Y/n to go to New York and live a normal life, a life Y/n always wanted. Or as normal it can be, because new introductions lead to events that didn’t go down in the history books.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x reader, Steve Rogers, Peggy, Loki, OC Vera

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Fluff, Violence, we’re officially in Captain America the First Avenger now... So I guess spoilers?

Note: When I am writing and particularly writing about Bucky and y/n meeting again or them just being in love I always listen to Pirates of the Caribbean to the theme or Will and Elizabeth and I thought it would be good to share that with you guys. To get in the feels. Right now it jumps from POTC One day and the last minute or so from Drink up me hearties yo ho. I know it is so random, but I cannot get it out of my head.

Series masterlist

Part 11

""Are you ok?" I asked Bucky with hopeful eyes. "I-... I uh.. I'm ok. What happened?" He asked me as he sat up. Steve had caught up and dropped down next to us. "Are you ok! I saw you get shot!" Steve said. Bucky looked down at his shoulder. It was still covered in blood, but he could definitely tell something was off. He saw the wound, but it was small, but there was a lot of blood. He pulled down his shirt from his shoulder trying to see if there were more wounds, but that was it. He looked really confused. He slowly looked up at me. He tried to search my eyes for an answer. "I thought I got shot too. But I.. must have been blown back by something." Bucky looked at me to see if I had the answer for him.

"Blown back by what? Buck I saw you! Someone pointed a gun at you.. and shot it! How are you not hurt?!" Steve asked confused. I tried to avoid both their gazes. I wanted to explain, but I didn't know how. I startled a bit when Bucky put his hand on my leg all of a sudden. My leg was already completely healed. "I don't know.. Lets just get outta here before more Hydra agents decide to jump out." Bucky said as he stood up. He put his hand out to me and I took it to stand up. You could see Steve was at a loss for words. He was looking around him to see if there was a logical answer, but there was non.

"Com on, Bucky is right. We gotta go." I told Steve. He seemed to shake off whatever thought he had and started walking.

"Alright. Are you ready for today?" I asked Bucky as I jumped in bed next to him. I was already dressed for today. I was going to teach him how to work my knifes, or any knifes really. "I guess so." Bucky said a bit unsure as he turned around in bed to face me. "You know, usually I'm the one to wake you up." He told me as he pulled me over on his chest and gave me a kiss on my lips. I smiled in our kiss. No matter what thought or worry I had before the kiss it always seemed to go away when I was with Bucky. It gave me some sort of peace. Like nothing mattered what was happening around us. "I love you." I said as I slowly pulled back and hovered above him. "Now, tomorrow and forever." Bucky said with a big smile on his face and pulled me in tighter before letting me go and getting out of bed.

He was not wearing any clothes and I couldn't help myself but wander down. His back was turned to me which gave me a nice opportunity to look at his ass. So firm, I just wanted to smack it. I laid down and put my head on my hand. But as soon as I got comfortable he had found his underwire and put it on. Bucky noticed that I was looking so I gave him a big pout. He laughed and turned back getting his clothes. "You can see me naked again tonight." I snorted at that. Always so confidant.

After a moment of quiet Bucky spoke up. "So we're not gonna talk about what happened yesterday?" I looked at his back confused. "What do you mean?" I asked him, not understanding what he was talking about. As he got finished getting dressed he sat in front of me. He looked at his hands for a moment before looking at me again. Looking for the right words. "I got shot yesterday." That made me sit up right straight away.

I opened my mouth but no words came out. "I know there are some things you can't explain, but this one... I don't know how and I don't know what, but somehow you did something and now I just have a scratch on my shoulder. I need some kind of logical explanation for this.. Because I can't think of one." Bucky continued on. I owed him an explanation, that was for sure. "I-.." I closed my eyes, like that would give me the answer. "There is no logical explanation.. You did get shot, but..." I opened my eyes and looked at him. "There are things I can do the involve healing and.. I healed you.." I stammered on. Of course Bucky looked very confused, but he was trying to understand.

"That's how you healed yourself." He stated as he put his hand on my leg. I nodded at that. I didn't have to try technically, like with Bucky, but I still healed myself. "Alright. So you're a witch. Like in books and movies." He told himself more than me. "Not like in the Hobbit though." I laughed at him. I was ore relieved that he didn't make a big deal out of this. "Those are wizards." He tried to say serious, but failed as he started laughing.

After a moment of laughing I put my hand on his left shoulder. "Thank you." I told him. "For what? I should be thanking you." Bucky said as he smirked. "Thank you for not making a big deal out of this." That made his smirk turn into a smile. He put his left hand over the hand I had put on his shoulder and squeezed it. "You told me you would tell me when you're ready. And besides.. How amazing is it?! I am engaged with a witch! Not many people can say that." I laughed at that relieved. "You're a dork." He smirked and leaned forward for a quick kiss. "Your dork. And you gotta teach this dork how to fight with knifes... Soo lets go." He said as he stood up and pulled me with him with my hand.

We were at the base in London. I was strapping in my knifes and Bucky was looking at knifes he wanted to train with. There was so much to choose from and Bucky was taking it very serious into finding the right knifes. "You almost ready?" I asked him putting my hands on my hips. "Yeah I'm just trying to see..." He trailed off. I huffed at that. Then I'll choose. I walked over to the table of knifes. "These will do." I said as I picked up two knifes and flipped them around in my hands. The were very light and should be easy for him to handle.

"You gotta teach me how to do that." Bucky said in wonder which made me flip them around in my hands again before I handed the knifes to Bucky.

"Ok, so first of all.. Try not to stab yourself. Second try not to stab me." He scoffed at that. And I rolled my eyes. "Alright come here." I said as I walked towards the middle of the room and we stood slightly apart. "Besides wanting to know the tricks you need to know where to stab." I walked around him and took my knife from my holster.

"You want to avoid the ribs, because it can get stuck sometimes. If you go for the stomach it can get ugly. But there are two places that if you want to kill someone it will be the easiest." I grabbed his shoulder and pretended to almost stab him in the back. This made him startle and that made me smirk. "If you go for the lower back and hit up for the kidneys they usually won't come back up. And the neck." I said as I moved my knife up to his throat, but not putting any pressure on him. "If you go for the neck I assure you they will not come back up."

"This is nice and all, but I wanna see you in action." I could hear the smirk through his voice. And again I rolled my eyes. I removed my knife and put it in my holster again. Then I gave him a push forward. "Not so fast. You know where to hit, but you also need to know how to defend yourself if you ever get in a situation like this."

"To start, it is better to fight with one knife at a time. So if for what ever reason you lose one you'll have a backup." Bucky nodded taking it a little more seriously now. "Then obviously you don't want to be an open target. Keep your arms close to your body. And even though you have a knife in one hand and nothing in the other you can still hit them.. or kick them. Alright.. I'll show you now. Lets see how you can defend yourself Sargent." He nodded at that and got ready.

I took my knife out and flipped it in my hand. I charged forward and tried to go for his head, but Bucky was able to duck away which made me miss. He's fast, that's good. I went to kick him with my left leg which made him stumble back. I advanced forward again flipping my knife and went for his torso. If this was a real fight I would have hit him. "This would hurt." I said as I pushed him back. "I thought you said go for the kidneys and neck." Bucky said as he got back in his stance. "Yes, but if this is life or death I will try to hurt you no matter what to make you slow down. Now try to fight back." I charged forward again but faster. With my right hand I went for his neck but he blocked me and pushed me back. "Good... But you can do better." I charged at him again, but I quickly flipped the knife in my left hand and went for his neck again. This time he wasn't fast enough. "Dead." I told him. "You gotta teach me that one." Bucky said with a smile on his face.

"And you gotta fight back if you want to live." I told him a little serious but half joking. "I don't wanna hurt you doll." He told me seriously. "I promise you, you won't hurt me. Now try and get a grip on that knife and see how it feels." He did as he was told and swung it in front of him a few times to see how it feels.

"Hey! There you are." Steve said as he came walking in the room we were training at. "Hey Steve." I said as I turned towards him. "We got another mission. Tomorrow were going to Austria. Hydra is going to be shipping weapons on a train there and Zola should be there as well." I nodded at Steve. Maybe they would also be moving the Tesserect on the train. This could be a great opportunity. "What are you guys doing?" Steve asked looking over at Bucky who was still swinging his knife around and trying to flip it every now and then. "I'm teaching him how to fight with a knife.. But he's not very good." I said the last part a little quieter. "I heard that." Bucky said which made me and Steve laugh.

"I'm gonna head back up. Try not to hurt yourself." Steve said the last part to Bucky before turning to me. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He said jokingly before walking away.

"Ok, dork, lets get back to it." I said as I clapped my hands and turning towards Bucky.

"Doll.. I don't even think they are as cruel as you in the army." Bucky said as we came back in out apartment. I'll be honest I kinda gave him hell while we were training, but I want him to become good. I want him to defend himself. "So you rather have training from them then from me?" I asked smiling already knowing the answer. "Never." He said as he put his arms around me from behind and kissed me on my cheek. "I need a shower." He said sniffing himself. "Or we.." He started. I shook my head. "I don't think so." I said as I pushed him in the bathroom. "You go get that shower and after that I will. Then we need sleep, cause we're going to Austria tomorrow." Bucky gave me a big pout. "But.." "No." I interrupted before shutting the door in his face.

I smirked as I heard the shower turning on. I went to lay down on the bed and wait for my turn. It only took about ten minutes before Bucky came out of the bathroom with his towel sitting low on his hips. I gave him a quick up and down look which earned me a smirk from him before going into the bathroom myself to take a shower.

For some reason Loki popped in my head. I hadn't seen him in a while now. I hadn't seen anyone from Asgard in a while. They all knew I preferred being on Earth, but at least once a year I would visit them. I hadn't done that in a couple of years now. I missed Thor being his proud self and his stupid jokes, even though sometimes I'm not sure if he's joking. I missed Frigga, she would always teach me an new spell or practice some magic with me. Sif is the best drinking buddy anybody could ask for. Odin is.. Odin. Heimdall is basically my father, he has taught me how to fight with a sword and just taught me many lessons. I am honestly always happy that he is the first one I see as I go to Asgard. Then Loki, as annoying as he can be.. He has been my friend for so long. He had taught me a lot about fighting as well, but what I like the most about him that he was always up for an adventure. He had shown me many other planets and different realms. I know it was just an opportunity for him to get away from his family, but we always had fun doing it.. or usually we did. This had been the first time we had actually been in a fight like this.. And now I can't see him at all. Maybe after I tell Bucky what I am I could take him to Asgard. Most likely not a lot of people will be happy with that, but I'll deal with that after. Bucky wouldn't believe his eyes if he went to Asgard. I thought smiling to myself.

I turned the shower off and dried myself. I looked in the foggy mirror and looked at the dog tags hanging around my neck. I took them in my hand looking at them. Barnes. It is a nice name. Y/n Barnes. I thought to myself. "Y/n Barnes." I said now softly smiling. I like the sound of it. My name had been Y/n Ironside or Ævi for so long now, but I would love nothing more than to take his name. "Y/n Barnes." I said again. It sounded perfect. It made me even more excited for the war to be over and marry him. I let go of my dog tags and walked out of the bathroom with my towel around me.

As soon as I stepped out I heard Bucky whistle. "Wow! So beautiful, Doll!" He said with a smirk plastered on his face. I narrowed my eyes at him playfully. "How about now?" I said as I dropped my towel. He bit his lip. "There is nothing more beautiful in the entire universe."

I walked over to his side of the bed, swinging my hips as I did. Bucky's eyes never lost sight of my body. He was trying to take all of me in. Through the sheets I could already see something growing. I straddled his lap and he tried to sit up, but I pushed him down. "You did enough exercise for today." I told him as I grinded down on him which made him inhale sharply.

I moved closer and planted my lips on his. His hands went for my hips helping me move on his length as there were still sheets in between us. I felt him getting harder and myself getting wetter. Our want for each other growing. "I want you." Bucky said between kisses as he tried to go for my folds but I grabbed his hand, stopping him. "I said you did enough exercise for today." Bucky snorted. I moved his hand back on my hip and moved the sheets out of the way. His length sprung and I started grinding him again. Hitting my sensitive bud as I did.

I started moving my hips faster and felt a knot form. I started to moan in the kisses, which made Bucky grab my hips tighter. I pressed down harder which started to make me see stars. "Cum for me baby." He whispered in my ear. And I did, my hips losing it's pace. My vision clouded with stars and it slowly went away.

Bucky tried to sit up to flip me over. "I said, you did enough exercise today." I told him with a smile as I pushed him back. I grabbed his length and pumped him a few times before lining myself up. I slowly sat down, his length stretching my walls. When I was ready I started moving slowly. His whole length almost out before taking it all in again. Bucky was a moaning mess underneath me.

When the suspense was almost killing us both I started to move faster. His length filling me perfectly with every thrust. Both out moans became louder and Bucky's hips started to twitch. His hands were grabbing my hips tighter with every thrust. I put one of my hands on his chest and one in his hair. I went down to trail kisses under his ears. This earned me a growl and Bucky started to thrust up in to me. Every thrust went faster and harder, hitting all the right spots. Soon I felt another knot building up quickly. My moans became even louder and I was almost afraid the neighbors would complain tomorrow. Bucky took this as his que to now move his hand and rub it over my still sensitive bud. "Oh-.. Oh God-..Bucky." I said softly as I came undone.

Bucky started to quicken his pace before letting out a groan. Snapping his hips up irregularly and slowing down. He put his arms around me, trying to pull me closer, if that was even possible. He gave me a kiss on the top of my head. "I love you." He said in my hair. "I love you too." I told him as I moved, his length slipping out of me, giving me an empty feeling.

I sighed after a moment. "What's wrong?" Bucky asked sleepily. "I can't wait for this war to be over so we can marry." That made him pull me closer to his chest. "Me neither." Again it was like I could hear the smirk in his voice. "I'll be Mrs. Barnes." I told him. "I like that. Y/n Barnes." Hearing him say it made me even more excited. "Bucky and Y/n Barnes." Soon. Soon that would be real.

...

Let me know what you think :)

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neworleansspecial · 3 years ago

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Summary: An instagram post Marjan makes is interpreted as a coming out post. This was not her intention.

WC: 1.6k | AO3

Warnings: Internalized Homophobia

This is quite possibly the worst outcome Marjan can think of. She posted the roller derby photos because her feed has been quite dead since the whole “cancelling of firefox” thing that happened. It’s something non-controversial, and she loves to show off her brilliant team mates in the way that she assumes most people feel about their friends. She wants the world to see these talented, confident, beautiful women the way she sees them. Marjan spent a few minutes meticulously tagging each member of the team in the photos she posted, lining up each black bar with the correct face. She figures it’s a good appreciation of these women.

What happens instead of her friends being showered in compliments is speculation Marjan could have never, ever predicted. She knows that many of her fans are gay, particularly gay young women. Young lesbians. It’s a fact that she keeps in the back of her mind for no reason at all other than to just know it. This majority, however, make themselves known in the aftermath of the photos being posted.

Marjan reads a comment that simply states, “ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!” followed by a bunch of heart emojis and wonders what it means. One of what? She scrolls through the thousands of comments on her post and tries to make sense of them when she realizes the error she’s made.

The team photo on the first slide was when they all went to pride together, since most of the members of the roller derby team are LGBT+ and wanted to go as a group. Marjan went as an ally, but failed to clarify this point when she posted it. The thought smacks her in the face.

People think this post was her coming out.

And it’s too late to take it back, but Marjan deletes the post the moment she connects the dots. Her first thought is for her family, who follow her on instagram. Her mother. Her siblings. They likely already saw. Marjan can just imagine the horror in her mother’s voice over the phone, asking Marjan if it’s true. One of her little sisters is still in high school, she could get bullied if anyone thinks that she might be related to a gay person. It’s going to be a disaster.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

“Marjan?”

She looks up to see Mateo peeking into the bunk room. He looks concerned.

“Cap sent me to get you for dinner. Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing,” she lies, quickly putting her phone into her pocket. “Paul cooked, right? So it should be pretty good.”

Mateo easily moves on from his first question, chatting about the salad he helped make to go with dinner, and Marjan is able to just nod along to his words without really paying attention or responding. She’s in so much trouble. The last time she checked, there’s already a handful of articles about her photo. People know. It’s only a matter of time before everyone she’s ever met to know about the alleged coming out. Just thinking about it has Marjan’s eyes stinging with tears.

By the time she sits down in her seat at the table, she can feel all their eyes on her. Being calm and collected is kind of her thing, and she feels so unbearably seen right now, in ways she’s never wanted to be. They all wait for her to speak, but once they realize she’s not going to on her own, Paul reaches across the table to take one of her hands.

“Marjan, what’s wrong? We’re all here for you.”

She glances around at them. They could dismiss her in disgust easily. But she knows TK is gay, and everyone seems okay with it. At the very least, she knows TK won’t let them say anything too bad about the situation.

“I posted some roller derby photos, on instagram. Um, one of them was from pride.”

Mateo’s face lights up. “That was such a cool day! It was my first time going to pride, since I wasn’t, like, out before. I can see why you’d wanna post those photos.”

“People think it was a coming out post.” She glances around the table to see neutral faces. “They think I’m gay.”

At that, TK stabs his fork particularly hard into his dinner and shoots a look at her. “And what’s wrong with being gay, Marj?”

His words get Mateo’s attention, honing in on the hurt and the concept that Marjan could be something less than accepting. Mateo’s self-discovery of bisexuality is recent, recent enough that he’s still rather insecure in his open identity. She doesn’t want him to think she cares about this sort of thing, even if she kind of does. But only when it’s her. Other people can be gay, or bi, but she knows it’s not something that’s allowed to her. Her family would be devastated.

“Is there something wrong?” Mateo asks.

Marjan rushes to say no as Judd lowers his head and folds his hands like he’s praying.

“It’s not that, it’s just… I…”

“Are you?” Paul asks.

Everyone’s attention snaps to him, and then to Marjan. She can almost feel the blood drain from her face as they all turn with the same look on their face, the same question. It’s all a given what they’re asking. What they want to know. She can’t handle their rejection for this.

“Marjan,” he says gently, “it’s okay if you’re LGBT. You know that us, of all people, are going to love and support and defend you no matter what.”

Marjan stands up from the table, her chair scooting back loudly. “I need some air.”

She all but runs to the stairs, hopping down each step to get to the doors on the first floor to the cool outside air. It’s a relief against her suddenly flushed cheeks. She knows she can’t be gay. It’s not allowed. She had a fiancé for most of her life. It was always a given that she’d marry a man, one of her family’s choosing, without much of her say in the matter. Of course she could veto someone, or say they weren’t right for her, but the fact is that her husband was always going to be chosen for her. There’s been no room, no time, for her to consider any other romantic pursuits, especially with a woman.

For the very first time, Marjan allows herself to think about that. About women, and the possibility of being in a romantic relationship with a woman. In her mind’s eye, the woman is generic. Dark hair, big eyes, soft skin. There’s no face, just the imagined feeling of curves under her hands, perhaps the softness of a breast pressed to her palm. Thinking about this for the very first time as a possibility overwhelms her with its suddenness. She feels especially guilty when the imagined woman begins to take the shape of one of her friends. This isn’t right. This is perverse, an intrusion, worse than peeping.

She feels sick to her stomach as she sinks to sit against the wall. This isn’t okay. She should’ve never posted that picture, and then people wouldn’t be saying these things about her. If they never said those things, she wouldn’t be having the most upsetting realization of her life right now either.

Marjan isn’t sure how long she’s sitting out on the asphalt before Paul comes out and joins her, taking a seat at her side. His warm shoulder meets hers in a silent comfort for nearly five full minutes before he speaks.

“I was already an adult when I realized,” he says to her. “I didn’t ‘always know,’ at least not in my conscious mind. It wasn’t until I was already out in the world as a firefighter that I truly realized who I was, and that was really scary. I had a long road ahead of me, with a lot of self-discovery, and I had a lot of people to tell. I was terrified.”

“How did you know?” Marjan asks. “That you really are trans?”

Paul sighs. “I didn’t. I questioned it a lot when I was first beginning my transition. For some people, they just know, and they have for a long time, but I was both certain that I was a man and worried that I was doing it for attention. It was hard. I went to therapy for a long time, to understand myself and to help me do what was best for myself. I had a lot of internalized transphobia to work through. On top of that, I had thought I was a lesbian for a long time before I realized I wasn’t, so I kind of understand what you might be going through. Questioning your gender and your sexuality are really similar in a lot of ways, but incredibly different in others. Regardless of your journey, Marjan, whether you’re straight or not, it’s going to take a lot of reflection. All of us here at the 126 have your back. If you need to listen, or talk, or just be distracted, we’re all here for you. We love you, Marj. I love you. And if you need anything, I’m here.”

She leans into his side and he puts an arm around her for the closest approximation of a hug they can manage while sitting side-by-side on the ground. Marjan knows she has a long path ahead of her of understanding her sexuality, and not just in terms of orientation. What she wants in a relationship and how to have one are things she doesn’t really understand yet, and that’s something she’s going to have to confront to move forward in her life. She’s scared of what it means for her future. She’s scared of what her family will think. She’s scared of what the world will think. But as she sits beside Paul, it is clear that there are people who are going to support her no matter what.

With that, she may be able to learn this about herself.

#marjan marwani #911 lone star #911ls #paul strickland #tk strand #mateo chavez #911 lone star fic #usercj #userjillian #tuserjamie #emwrite

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years ago

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Havandra

anonymous asked:

Hi! Can i request something where geralt meets another girl and starts ignoring/neglecting y/n and both of them being rude to her and rly angsty w a fluff ending if you can!! Thank you so much!!

A/N: Hello, I don’t know who you are but thank you for your request, it was fun to write. I hope you enjoy

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, murder, fighting

There was something about fine ladies with intricate dresses and long lashes that seemed to enchant the unenchantable.

Especially your Witcher.

They were his weakness, and it didn’t matter what they were. Human, mages, monsters, it was all the same.

Knowing this you shouldn’t have been surprised how immediately he trailed off as his eyes followed her down the hallway. She deserved it, every glance that was sent her way. Her entire existence screamed ‘Admire Me!’ Her dress glittered like the ocean at midnight and her hair was a sheet of shining obsidian, swaying with every step, taunting you as she approached. Big blue eyes, full lips, high cheekbones were straight out of a painting that hung in lonely king’s courts. It was clear someone had sculpted her, had dragged magic through her skin until she lacked impurity.

It’s not that you weren’t pretty, for a hunter. Spattered freckles, scars, and comfort had nothing on fair skin, magic, and mystery.

You shouldn’t have been surprised, and you should have found yourself a new traveling companion, at least until she was gone. You didn’t, of course, because you were an idiot, and unrequited love made you an idiotic doormat.

“I’m Havandra,” she purred, brushing you out of the way with almost no effort at all. Placing a hand on your Witcher’s shoulder, fingers twirling into the fabric of his collar. “The resident mage. He nodded gruffly, Adam’s apple tight in his throat and you rolled your eyes.

“Geralt-,”

“of Rivia, yes I know. I heard you were wandering our halls. I was hoping I would bump into you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Geralt, we need to speak to the king,” you reminded him, catching the attention of Havandra.

“And you are?” she asked, turning and planting herself between you and Geralt.

“His partner.”

“That’s so cute. Tell me, partner in what capacity?”

“I don’t think I know what you mean.”

“Well, you clearly not together in the sense of lovers. So if you’re not pleasuring him, why on earth does he keep a plain thing like you around.” You glanced over your shoulder at Geralt, who seemed to not hear anything she said.

“She’s a hunter,” he informed her, and you struggled to breathe.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if we get drinks?”

“We have to talk to the king,” you reminded but he was already gone, intertwined with the beautiful Havandra. As they strolled away, she glanced over his should and sent you a sharp smile.

“Don’t worry, I’ll return him mostly unharmed.”

You could scream, you wanted to more than anything, but you settled for unsheathing your sword and slamming it into the stone walls.

“Fuck,” you screamed, hands aching from the reverberation. He just left, with her, not even bothering to defend you. You weren’t fucking plain! And you were going to let her have it, she was evil, something was wrong.

No.

This was envy, it had planted itself in your heart and begun to grow. She wasn’t evil, just beautiful. Anyhow, you have no right to be jealous. He’s not yours, he’s never been yours. You told yourself friendship was fine time and time again. Every time you had to make yourself scarce because some girl had managed to enchant him for the night it stung but you knew it was for the best. And even this time, though you hated every inch of her, it was no different than anytime before.

Except this time, he hadn’t defended you. Every time before, the moment his conquest came after you, she was done. He told her to fuck off and grunted that it was time to go, but not this time. You had been sure he hadn’t heard her, but then he as if it was nothing he demoted you from friend to some hunter who had decided to tag along with the great and mighty Geralt of Rivia.

It’s fine, you told yourself deciding whether you should still go the king or postpone it until you had the man he had really called for at your side. If the rumors were true, this king had no problem killing those who failed to bring him what he requested, and you were sure this was one of those cases.

Instead, you took a walk, searching for a way to blow off some steam. Though you weren’t angry enough to leave the man, you definitely wanted nothing more than to punch that dopey look right off his face.

A deer darted in front of you as you stepped awkwardly and snapped a loose branch. You had your bow out in an instant and your arrow knocked, following the creature as closely as you could, inching forward ever so slowly. It didn’t stop until it was for out of sight, bushes blocking your view, but stepping onto a boulder gave you just enough high ground to see its ears poking out from the brush.

A second passed and then it was dead, your arrow lodged cleanly in its neck. Sighing, you threw it over your shoulder and made your way to town. Once there you sold the deer for a pretty penny and headed towards your room. The pub was crowded, men and women filling every crevice. They sang and danced and smiled, something you wanted no part of in your state of mind. You just wanted to lay down and sleep.

And wait for Geralt to get bored.

You fumbled with the key and finally pushed it open with a satisfying click, only the reveal Geralt and Havandra naked, wrapped within one another while she rode him. Your eyes widened at the sight. The room was ten degrees hotter than the hallway, hot skin slapping against hot skin. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy, his hands wrapped around her breasts. Animalistic moans filled your ears and you squeaked an apology, scrambling to leave, but they paid you no mind. You slammed the door shut and tears rushed to your eyes.

You have no right to be jealous. He’s not yours, and tomorrow he wouldn’t be hers either. You sat down and waited for her to leave, praying it would be soon.

You fell asleep in the hallway long after the sun went down, but you could still hear them, feel the shaking of the walls. Even as you woke with the sun the next morning, you could still hear them. It had slowed down, exhaustion pulling at the two, but her high pitched whimpers still creeping beneath the door. It wasn’t until it was completely silent that you dared to open the door once again.

She was plastered against his chest, both breathing heavily within sleep. You slipped through towards your bag that lay beside the bed, rummaging for your extra pair of pants. You picked up one of your knives and moved to leave, but as you stood you met the sapphire eyes of Havandra, who smirked at you before screaming.

You jumped back, dropping your things to the floor as you covered your ears and Geralt was up in a second.

“Geralt, she had a knife. She was going to kill me,” she screamed, curling up in his arms. He glared at you and you took another step back.

“I didn’t-,”

“I’ll talk to you outside.”

“But-,”

“Go!” he barked and you scurried outside as quickly as you could, leaving all that you held behind. You punched the wall and waited with throbbing knuckles. She was trying to get rid of you, that stupid mage. You had to explain, convince him that she was lying, but with the look he had sent you, you were sure that wouldn’t be easy. “What the fuck?” he asked lowly as he stepped out from the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Geralt, I wasn’t trying to kill her, I swear,” you pleaded but he wasn’t having it.

“No, you are a jealous, spiteful bitch. She told me she could tell you’re in love with me. Is that true? Were you going to try and kill her in hopes that I would finally look at you?”

“No, Geralt I would never.”

“Are you sure, because it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gone and scared off my company.”

“There’s something wrong with her.”

“No, there’s something wrong with you.”

“You have to believe me,” you were crying now, the feeling her smirk gave you still slipping up and down your spine.

“I don’t have to believe anything you have to say, Y/N. I should turn you in, but how about we settle for you leaving and never coming back.”

No, you couldn’t leave him. Not like this, not ever like this.

“You have an hour and then I’m going to turn you in, be long gone or face prison.” You turned and ran. It was pouring outside, the clouds that had been gathering for days, finally releasing their burden. Your tears mixed with the thick raindrops as your stumbled towards the forest, slipping through the mud and debris.

You had nowhere to go, no horse, no food, no money. You were as good as dead. You couldn’t believe he had sent you away, ears deaf to anything you had to say. All he cared about was Havandra. He had known you for three years and yet he had still chosen her, devoted even his common sense without knowing more than her name.

The trees provided little cover, and you found it harder to run as the roads began to flood. In one false step you were falling, tumbling down a hill into a muddy ravine. You tried to unstick yourself, but every time you stood you slipped again and wound up muddier than before. On hands and knees you crawled towards the slope, hoping to make it to the road before the ravine flooded and you were trapped when the torrents came rushing through.

Nails dug into mud, searching for anything of substance to hold onto, to pull yourself free. You slipped again and your mouth filled with mud. Spitting it out you continued your climb until something odd caught your attention, you pulled yourself closer and let out a gasp, tumbling back down the hill in surprise. Emerging from the quickly eroding slope was a body, the hand creeping out, and then the arm, then the torso, and finally it came washing down towards you with the rest od the debris that had been unearthed during to the torrent. You tried to scramble away, but you were hit full force with the body. You opened your eyes and found yourself staring into the sapphire eyes of the kingdom’s mage. Even caked in dirt you could tell, that the real, very dead, Havandra was laying on top of you, neck slit like a pig. You shoved her off you and realized with unimaginable dread what the monster who had been hired to hunt was.

And where it was.

Mud and rain couldn’t stop you as they had when you found no reason to fight, as now you could imagine the knife above Geralt, plunging into his chest with no remorse. It had only been you stopping it, and with you on the run the doppler would have no problem lodging a knife into the formidable Witcher, drunk on charm and sex.

No one tried to stop you as you neared the town and you prayed that he simply had been bluffing and was not yet dead. You pounded up the stairs off the inn and with an adrenaline you had never felt before slammed your body into the door, breaking anything that held it back. A shocked shapeshifter jumped back, the knife still clutched in its hand and Geralt woke up. He looked between his once beautiful Havandra and your mud doused body, the knife slipped from her hands, the twisted look on her face intensifying and you lunged. The force, though not quite as strong as when you charged the door, knocked both of you to the floor. It screamed and kicked you back. Upon contact with the wall the window shattered. You tried to clear your head as it approached.

“Fucking women, always getting in my way,” it hissed, pulling a knife from its tunic. You grabbed a piece of glass from the ground and lunged, pushing it back. Its knife caught you in the arm and you screamed, wrapping your hands around its neck but it threw you into the hallway. You darted forward, hand sliding across the dresser where the silver knife lay and dug into its heart. The screams were terrible, worse than the accusatory one it had uttered earlier. You dropped to the ground and covered your ears, not daring to remove them until all had gone silent.

You slid towards your Witcher who was slowly coming too, his angry eyes blinking into ones of confusion.

“Y/N?” he muttered, rubbing his temples, “What the fuck happened?” You explained it to him quickly, leaving out all that he had said to you in the hallway, and he just nodded and listened. “And what happened to you? I remember what I said to you.”

“It was spell, you didn’t mean it.” You avoided his gaze as you said it, the words still fresh in your heart.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, like I said, the spell.”

“Do you really love me?” Now your eyes snapped to his and you swallowed nervously. His expression was unreadable. What was it disgust? Discomfort? Simply curiosity?

“I do.” There was a moment of silence, the longest moment of your entire life. You were sure years had passed before either of you move.

And then he pulled you to his lips, kissing you with newfound energy. It was exactly as you had imagined, soft lips but nipping teeth. He didn’t seem to mind the mud, or the fact that it was you. In fact, it seemed to be because it was you that he didn’t mind the mud.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he laughed between butterfly kisses, smearing away the mud as he went.

“The women you-,”

“Are nothing, everyone is nothing compared to you.” Your eyes widened in surprise and you tackled him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back with equal ferocity. “You are everything, my everything, and nothing will change that. Not women or spells, there is nothing but you and me.”

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waiting4inspiration · 4 years ago

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Darkness before Dawn XIII: Call her Name

Summary: When you’re stuck in a death-like sleep, Malla states the one thing that can wake you and it’s something that your father does not like. Geralt is reminded of his job, and of his place.

Warnings: angst, horror elements, magical elements, strong language, small fluff, mentions of torture, mentions of curses, things are getting interesting...

Word Count: 2,202

Darkness before Dawn Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist

The night seemed peaceful to Geralt and you seemed to have gotten some sleep. Ida changed the protective circle around the bed to prevent any other spirits from pulling out like they had done previously. To the Witcher, it seemed to be the first peaceful night since this curse was laid on you.

But for you, it was a completely different story. Because Geralt can’t protect you in your dreams and Kurst knows that. There’s nowhere to hide from him in the tomb you always find yourself trapped in.

When the sun rose, Geralt was sure to move out from behind you in the bed, to make sure that no one walks in and sees something they shouldn’t be seeing. He didn’t want to disturb you, so he left you sleeping.

You seem peaceful. The most peaceful he’s seen you in days. He’d be a fool to wake you now.

The door opens, making his head turn away from you and he stands when Charlotte walks into the room. She gives a small smile, something Geralt hasn’t seen since he’s been here. “She still sleeping?” Charlotte questions in a whisper as she gently closes the door behind her.

Geralt hums, glances down at you as he steps away from the bed as Charlotte walks forward. “She needs all the rest she can get,” he mentions, earning an agreeing nod for the princess that sits on the bed beside you.

Charlotte remembers how tired you seemed to be yesterday when she brought you that tart to cheer you up. She’s only glad that you seem to have had a peaceful night for once. Maybe it’s the magic Ida’s teaching you that’s helping keep those spirits away from you, she thinks.

Reaching up to touch your arm, she gasps and flinches away at the feeling of your skin. Her action makes Geralt’s head snap up to her and he immediately goes on guard. “Her skin is like ice,” Charlotte says, standing to move to the side as Geralt rushes forward to take her place.

He touches the side of your face, strokes your cheek and waits for your eyes to open. But they don’t. He turns his head over his shoulder to look back at Charlotte, who stands a few feet away from him, staring at you with wide eyes and a scared look on her face. She didn’t seem to care this much about you when he first started this job he was hired to do. It seems that she’s really changed.

“Get Ida. Now,” he orders, making her nod and quickly turns around to race out of the room. He looks back at you, moves his hands to your shoulders to gently shake you as an attempt to wake you, but your eyes remain shut. “If you can hear me, please, just open your eyes,” he whispers, taking your face in his hands and stroking your cheeks.

You hear Geralt. His voice gives you some strength to push Kurst off you and take a step back. He glares coldly at you as you pant, gripping the sarcophagus behind you. “Do not touch me,” you weakly order, making him chuckle and confidently lift his head as he steps closer to you.

“What are you doing to do, little princess? Are you going to be a queen now and order me around?” he asks, taunting you just as he had been this entire night. You swallow hard, take a step back only to end up walking around the coffin. “Are you going to show me a little magic trick?”

Running your tongue over your lips as you carry on walking backward. “I am not afraid of you,” you mention, putting the coffin between you and him.

He laughs darkly, stops walking and leans over the coffin with his hands on the stone. “Come on then, princess. Show me what you’ve got,” he growls, his fingers turning to those claws that you hate so much, egging you on.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance down to your hands and try to muster as much strength as you can for the spell Ida taught you as a means to defend yourself, not only from spirits but from anyone with ill-content towards you.

Kurst thinks you can’t do anything, that you don’t have the strength to do that. “That’s what I thought. You are weak because of your fear,” he sneers.

Seeing the light around slowly fading, his shadow growing bigger, you know he intends to attack again. And that’s when you take the chance to use the spell. Whispering the Elder incantation and holding your hand out, you knock him away from you and he hits the stone wall behind him.

Your spell comes out stronger than you thought, and you end up knocking the top of the coffin off, exposing the corpse inside. Panting as you stumble backward, you glance down to the open coffin and take in a deep breath when you see the corpse.

It wears the same clothes Kurst wears now, the same clothes he has been wearing the entire time. With the top off of the coffin, Kurst slowly stands from the ground and glares coldly at you. “You bitch,” he sneers, his eyes going dark and his face changes to the demonic look that haunts you.

You hear Geralt’s voice again, calling to you with a plea to wake up. And when you blink, you think of him and of being back with him.

Geralt doesn’t expect such a great group to burst into your room. Ida, Dominic, Charlotte, and Jaskier walk into your room, dread on their faces that your curse - the Curse of Death - has finally run its course.

Ida moves closer when Geralt steps away from you, takes his place beside you and reaches up to touch your cheek. Dominic walks closer to you, staring in fear at your pale features for a moment before looking to Ida who shakes her head.

“She is not dead. There is still life in her,” she whispers, making everyone breathe a small sigh of relief, All except Geralt because you’re still not awake. It cannot be a good sign. “Something is keeping her from waking and the longer she remains asleep…”

“The more chance Kurst has to drain her,” Malla says, her sudden appearance makes everyone turn to face her.

This is the first time Charlotte sees the ghost, and seeing the deadly bruise around her neck makes her gasp lightly and her eyes grow wide in shock. Malla walks closer, ignoring the surprised gasp from the princess and keeps her gaze on you.

“How do we wake her?” Dominic asks, making the ghost look at him before she looks to Geralt.

“Someone close to her must call her name. Someone who cares deeply for her, and who she cares deeply for,” Malla speaks, her words make Geralt turn his gaze back to you.

Ida looks up at Geralt too, knowing the meaning behind the ghost’s words. Dominic steps forward, but Ida stops him when she holds up her hand. “Geralt,” she whispers, nodding to him to encourage him to walk closer.

Dominic turns to look at the Witcher coldly, narrows his eyes when he steps closer as if to challenge him to dare come near you. But Ida pushes her brother back to let Geralt sit down beside you again. “Let him do this, Dominic,” Ida whisper, keeping a hand on his chest to stop him from doing something stupid.

Everyone watches as Geralt reaches up to cup your cheek, Dominic shifting in distaste at the action, and Jaskier smirking to himself. “(Y/n),” Geralt whispers, moving his hand down your shoulder to take your hand in his.

You take in a deep breath, making your shoulder draw up to your shoulders as your eyes flutter open and you breathe out a long sigh. Blinking for your eyes to adjust to the light around you, your gaze lands on Geralt and a weak smile grows on your face.

“Geralt,” you whisper, your grip on his hand tightening.

He strokes his thumb over the back of your hand, allows himself to be happy to see that you’re still alive and he smiles down at you. What he wouldn't give to kiss you, but he knows that would be unwise to do that in front of your father. He’s already treading on thin ice holding your hand like a lover.

You can barely keep your eyes open, don’t even bother trying to push yourself to sit up because you know that you would fail. You can feel that strength evades you today. You doubt very much you will be leaving bed today.

“Witcher,” Dominic roughly calls him, breaking the moment between you and him and making him pull his hand out of yours. “May I speak with you? In private?” It’s not really a question, but an order.

Before you can even try to protest, Geralt stands and marches towards the door, followed shortly by your father and Ida, who you know will dampen Dominic’s anger.

Turning your gaze to Jaskier as he sits on the edge of the bed and Charlotte beside you, you give him a gentle smile. “Jaskier, perhaps one of your stories will make her feel a bit better,” Charlotte mentions, making the bard smile and nod his head as he shifts to make himself comfortable.

Dominic runs his hand over his face, waits for the sound of your door closing before turning around to look at Geralt. “You grow far too close to my daughter, Witcher. You forget you have a job,” the king snaps, turning around to look at Geralt, ignoring Ida when she steps closer.

“I thought my job was to protect her-”

“It is not your first priority!” Dominic cuts him off, takes a step closer to him and narrows his eyes at the Witcher. “You are to find the witch and end this curse. And you will stop any provocation you have with my daughter,” he sternly says.

Ida steps forward and pushes her brother backward away from the Witcher. “I am sure Geralt is capable of completing his duties without you pestering him,” she mentions, glancing over her shoulder to Geralt who nods his head stiffly and glances away. “And it is not for you to decide who it is (Y/n) chooses to spend her time with,” she whispers to Dominic, making him roll his eyes.

“If it makes this conflict end,” Malla speaks, making the three people turn to find her standing a few feet away. By now, they have gotten used to her just showing up when she pleases. “I can lead the Witcher to the witch to try and end this curse,” she mentions, looking between the white-haired Witcher and the King.

Dominic nods his head and looks at Geralt again. “You will go. Kill the witch if you must. Anything that ends this curse and sends you out of my kingdom,” he sneers before walking away.

Shifting on his feet, Geralt takes in a deep breath as his jaw tenses. Ida steps forward and rests a hand on his shoulder. “I can create a portal for you. So you don’t spend too much time away from her,” she says with a smile on her face.

But he doesn’t smile back. “I doubt Dominic will allow me to go near her again. Nevermind be alone with her,” he grumbles, turning to look at your door after it closes to stare at it.

Ida shrugs her shoulders and takes a step closer to him. “He might not, but I will,” she mentions, making him look back at her in slight confusion. “She’s grown very fond of you. It would be a mistake to try and keep you two apart.”

He gives a small smile and nods his head in thanks to her. She clasps her hands together and looks to Malla. “So, where is it you need to go?”

Although Geralt doesn’t like traveling through portals, he will take Ida up on her offer because the quicker he can get to the witch, the quicker he can end this curse. The quicker he can save your life.

Thinking about how all he wants is for you to be safe, he remembers the object he asked Jaskier to find for him. He still has it and hasn’t found time to give it to yet. If he comes back and Dominic refuses him to see you, the least he can do is give this to you so you can protect yourself without magic.

He reaches for the knife at his side, looks down at it to stare at the intricate floral pattern on the handle - something that looks like the flowers in your paintings. He remembers Jaskier complaining how hard it was to find. “Will you give this to her?” he whispers, looking up at Ida as he holds the knife out to her. “In case she needs it,” he adds, making Ida smile as she takes the silver knife from him and nods her head.

Even when he’s going away, he’s still protecting you, Ida thinks to herself.

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fatefulfaerie · 4 years ago

Text

Guilt

Fic-art trade with @rebuildingkonohaonceagain !! You sent two pictures so here is 2,000 words. I hope you like it!

Trigger Warning: mention of death

The whirring of guardians always made Zelda feel at ease, the way their inner-workings clicked, the way their mechanisms whistled. It was something Zelda felt she understood, and something that gave her great hope in their prospects of victory.

Her pride in the prowess of ancient Sheikah technology could be seen in the way she looked at them now, smiling at their apparent perfection.

The blush on her cheeks, however, came from the knowledge of who was standing behind her, pensive in his duty and yet ever-vigilant of danger. He saw no danger in these skulltula-like machines, and thus allowed Zelda to run excitedly to peer at them with no word of caution passing his lips. Zelda loved looking down from the bridge of her study and seeing the Sheikah’s progress with the Guardians. Although she often felt Hyrule doomed with her sealing power still locked deep inside her, her hope returned when she saw the Guardians or the Divine Beasts.

“Amazing,” she remarked. “We’re at a point now where we can actually control them.”

Zelda turned around to face Link with a smile.

“At this rate, we’ll be well-positioned to defend ourselves, should Calamity Ganon return.”

Link’s expression moved slightly out of its neutrality, betraying Zelda’s expectations of her knight, and yet she welcomed the tease of emotion with open ears.

“Are you sure about that?” Link asked.

Zelda felt something grip her heart, like the cold hand of an Icy Moblin.

“Of…of course I’m sure,” Zelda said. “What…”

“I mean who are you kidding?” Link asked rhetorically, with an edge to his voice Zelda had never heard before. “We all know we’re missing a pretty big piece of the puzzle. Everything else is in line except you. Do you not care about the kingdom?”

Zelda’s eyes stung with betrayal and the cold hand seem to pull her heart down, farther and farther into unknown caverns below the castle.

“Of course I care, Link, what…” Zelda said trying to find her breath. She backed away in fear, her hand meeting the cement ridges of the bridge. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’ve trained all my life,” Link continued, his brow furrowing in his rising anger, “tired myself to constantly better for Hyrule to what? Serve a Princess who sees the Calamity as a joke? Who frolics around and pretends to pray to goddess statues? It’s time to wake up, Your Highness. Own up to your failures and we might even get out of this alive.”

“Link, I…” Zelda said, shaking her head. “You know better than anyone how hard I…”

The ground suddenly shook violently beneath them, Zelda looking down with wide, green eyes to see the bridge under her feet crack.

“Come on,” she heard Link say as he grabbed her hand and started to run towards the innards of the castle, towards perhaps more stable ground.

Yet the floor buckled beneath him at his next step, Link slipping off the bridge, hanging by the hand that connected him to Zelda’s.

They both looked down to what Link was hanging over and Zelda didn’t quite understand what she saw.

It was a large hole, with Calamity Ganon swirling in his own malice like a fish in a small pond of blood.

Link looked back at Zelda, whose gaze was panicked as she started to lose her grip on Link’s hand. She gritted her teeth trying to get a better hold, but it was no use.

Link’s gaze, in contrast, was rather settled for someone whose life was in danger, as if he weren’t surprised in the slightest.

“This is your fault,” he said before Zelda accidentally lost her grip.

“No!” Zelda exclaimed, reaching down with tears in her eyes as Link fell, lost to the darkness of the calamity.

Zelda stood up quickly onto what remained of the bridge, Calamity Ganon’s burning yellow eyes and pig-like snout rising to face her, it’s wispy red and black emanations trailing behind him.

Zelda, with panting, heavy breaths and cheeks endlessly replenished with her tears, held out her hand palm-first towards Calamity Ganon, wishing with all her might that luck would grant her the sealing power she sought, if not the endless years of prayers to cold and unyielding goddess statues.

Yet no power came, even on repeat attempts extending her arm.

Calamity Ganon gave a growling chuckle, smiling insidiously at such a failure.

“Finally,” he said in his groveling voice before surging forward with an open mouth. Zelda crouched in defense, her last resort before darkness succumbed her as well.

She didn’t know where she was falling from or to, nor how long she had been falling or long she had until she met the ground. She had no idea how she was changed from her royal blue dress to her white prayer dress, or what to do about it as the wind whipped through her long, blonde hair, almost tugging at it.

She felt almost dead, like she could fall, float, drift, drop for a hundred years until time became eternity.

She felt herself torn apart, like the Ritos, who pluck the feathers off their deceased before offering the body to the goddess Hylia.

She felt herself chocking on rocks and dirt, like the Gorons, who bury their deceased in the rich grounds of Death Mountain.

She felt herself rocked by unforgiving waves, like the Zora, who dispatch their deceased on a small boat lined with violets.

She felt herself dissipate, like the Gerudo, who burn their deceased to ashes and make them one with the sands.

“Zelda,” She heard a voice echo, surprised she could hear it, surprised someone could still know her, remember her.

“Zelda!” She heard again, louder.

“Zelda!!”

Zelda jolted awake to Link shaking her, Zelda grasping her hands on his arms as she gasped for air.

Her green eyes were absolutely panicked, looking everywhere but at Link, her head twitching like a shaking leaf.

“Zelda,” Link insisted. “Zelda, look at me!”

Link placed his warm hands on either of her cheeks, suddenly aligning her gaze with his with a soft gasp. Her shaky breathing calmed as her eyes filled with recognition, as her ears heard the cracking of a nearby campfire, as her skin felt a blanket fall from her shoulder to her lap.

As soon as Zelda distinguished the line between nightmare and reality, she hurriedly embraced Link, diving her head into the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay,” Link said, clutching the back of her head, her blonde hair entangled in his calloused and yet gentle fingers. “You’re okay.”

He held her and he rocked her as she cried into his tunic, whispering over and over into her ear soothing words that assured her safety, and his safety, and their safety, and their victory, their final long-awaited victory after a hundred years of insurmountable loss.

Link ended up leaning against a nearby tree as he held her in his arms, neither caring at all that their proximity would once, a long time ago, have been scandalous. Their titles were something they were glad to throw away.

Zelda drew circles on Link’s chest as he stared at the campfire, his head leaning on hers.

“Was it like your nightmare last night?” He finally asked, after probably hours of Zelda being awake. Zelda had observed that Link was good at knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

Zelda nodded against his shoulder, her green eyes sad and frankly haunted, despondent as she lamented her nightmare.

“How do you feel now?” Link asked, looking down at her with a soft, blue gaze.

“Better,” Zelda answered quietly, as if she could barely manage to find her voice. “Safer.”

Link kissed the top of her head before leaning his own head on it again.

“Good,” he said.

A distant cicada started to chirp, Zelda immediately sitting up, ears penned and alerted.

“It’s okay,” Link said as he softly rubbed her arm with the backs of his fingers. “It’s just a bug.”

Zelda’s shoulder deflated from their tense state as she took a calm exhale. She nodded and yet didn’t return back into Link’s hold.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said.

Link’s gaze moved downward.

“I suspected you might say that,” Link said. “The good thing is that Dorephan doesn’t know we’re coming, and neither does Sidon, turning back is an option. We can always visit Zora’s Domain later.”

The fire crackled as Zelda considered Link’s words, and yet her mind veered off in another direction.

“Do you feel as I do?” Zelda said, turning her head to her shoulder. “This…guilt?”

Link nodded, sitting up.

“I do,” Link responded. “But then I remember what we were able to do because we survived.”

Zelda turned around to face Link, who was distracted by her beauty in the light of the fire until he saw in deep pain in her green eyes.

“Do you ever think I should have died instead of them?” Zelda asked. “Do you think it’s what I deserve? For failing them?”

“No,” Link said with sunken blue eyes and a shaking head. “No. Zelda, we all did the best we could. You know better than anyone how hard it was to unlock your sealing power. Everything was in place. We just ran out of time.”

“So…” Zelda started. “You don’t…blame me?”

“Of course not,” Link answered. “Why would I blame you?”

Zelda lowered her gaze.

“I’ve ran through it all a hundred different ways in my head, over a hundred years and, the loss is always my fault. A hundred different ways it could have gone, a hundred things I could have done different and…it’s always me.”

Zelda looked up at Link, who was shaking his head. He even graced a small smile.

“See, that’s where you are wrong.”

“Am I?”

Link chuckled, bowing his head before he raised it again.

“Who possessed the Guardians?” Link asked. “Was it you?”

“No,” Zelda said matter-of-factly. “That was Calamity Ganon.”

“And the Divine Beasts? Who possessed those?”

“Calamity Ganon,” Zelda answered, not sure what the trick was, what sort of test this was.

“Who came completely unannounced from beneath the castle and started attacking Hyrule by summoning all sorts of monsters?”

“Calamity Ganon,” Zelda answered again. “Link, what are you even getting at? Of course he--”

“Oh,” Zelda, realizing what Link was doing.

“Who saved my life by awakening her sealing power?”

Zelda sighed.

“Me.”

“And who, may I ask kept Calamity Ganon trapped inside the castle for hundreds of years, thus allowing Hyrule to flourish and grow because they were protected.”

Zelda was starting to blush.

“Me, again.” She said.

“And who finally sealed him away once and for all, bringing Hyrule to peace?”

Zelda rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“Me.”

“Nope,” Link said jokingly. “That was all me.”

Zelda scoffed and hit him playfully, them both giggling and laughing.

“All right, I get your point,” she said with a smile. “How do you always know what to say?

Link shrugged.

“Maybe it’s part of being the chosen hero,” Link said, Zelda glaring at him in disbelief with a tipped head. “Hey, you never know.”

Zelda laughed and her heart felt full as she looked into Link’s eyes, that were just as joyful and warm as hers.

They both smiled at the unspoken invitation between them before mutually leaning into each other, meeting their lips in an indulgent kiss that expressed their love.

Link cupped Zelda’s cheeks as they rescinded with a smile borne straight from pure happiness, admiring her for a lingering second before he spoke.

“It’s your choice,” Link said. “Whether we continue our journey to Zora’s Domain. It doesn’t make you weak to wait until you are ready.”

“I know,” Zelda replied, placing her hand where Link’s was on his cheek. “But I’ll have to face Mipha’s father and brother eventually. I would have trepidations no matter what…I think I just need to work through this.”

“Then I’ll do anything I can to help you.”

#zelink #zelda #link #botw #breath of the wild #calamity ganon #hyrule

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fictionalabyss · 4 years ago

Text

She didn’t show.

Pairing : Dean x Various, Dean x Reader, Sam

Word count : 3,589

Written for : @spnfluffbingo

Square : Online dating.

Warnings : Flangst, online dating, unrequited love, catfishing, guilt, angry Dean, regret.

A/N : I had this idea, and ended up shoving it in this square for a fill and now I’m not thrilled with how it turned out. So this idea is going to eventually get re-done and given some proper justice. Until then, enjoy this version lol.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN Fluff bingo 2020 Masterlist.

Dean smirked to himself as he hurried past the library and towards the garage. His eyes were so focused on his phone, he didn’t notice he was being watched. “Where you headed?”

“Hot date.” his smile widened.

“Yeah? Finally treating your left hand to something nice after all the work it’s done for you?”

“Fuck off.” Dean snapped. “I’ll have you know it’s a real person.”

“Pictures or it didn’t happen.” you crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair. You were surprised when Dean stormed over and shoved his phone in your face. A blonde haired bombshell sitting on a classic car covered his screen. “Looks like something you’d find on some dudes calendar.” you chuckled.

“You’re just jealous that I’ve got a date.” he said smugly before walking away. “Don’t wait up.”

“For you? Never.” you laughed.

As Dean vanished from view, your phone chimed. You pulled out your phone and opened the app with the bright red notification. Going to your messages you licked your lips as you read the latest one that had just come in.

> Can’t wait to finally meet you tonight.

Leaving it on read, you closed the app and hit the power button on your phone as Sam walked into the library, handing you a beer. “Where’d Dean go?”

“Manicure.”

“Manicure?” Sam stopped half way to his seat on the other side of the table and gave you a confused look.

“Said he had a hot date.” you shrugged. “I figure either a manicure, or maybe he’s going to buy some gloves.” Sam’s smile was bright and wide as it grew into a laugh. “You know, change it up a bit.”

“You're an ass.” Sam shook his head, still laughing as he finally got to his chair and sat down.

“You love me.” you lifted the drink to your lips.

“Didn’t you even consider that he might just have found some new porn so embarrassing he’s scared to watch it here?” you snorted, your drink almost coming out of your nose. “Yeah.. you’re right.. It’s Dean. He has no shame when it comes to porn.” Sam shook his head as you laughed hysterically.

“And what could possibly be worse than what he’s already watching?” you clutched at your stomach, sliding lower in the chair as Sam shuddered at the thought.

An hour and a half later, Dean walked back into the bunker, eyes on his phone with a glare as he mumbled.

“Dean?” Sam sat up straighter in his chair, watching as his brother stormed past.

“You’d think he’d be happier after such a hot date.” you mused.

“Fuck off.” Dean snapped. “I’m not in the fucking mood.” he growled before disappearing down the hall.

Getting up, you left Sam behind and went to find Dean. He was pacing around his room, eyes still on his phone. “Dean, you okay?”

“Peachy.”

“Dean-”

“She didn’t show, okay?” before you could say anything he turned to you, finger pointed right at your face. “And don’t you fucking laugh or give me some bullshit about how everyone gets stood up, I don’t.” he growled the last two words.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.” he tossed his phone onto his bed. “I don’t fucking know.” he sighed. “One second she can’t wait to see me, the next.. ghosted.”

“Okay, but for real, Dean. Since when do you give a shit? Since when do you not just move on to the next?”

“I kinda liked her.” he mumbled quietly. “But whatever, right?” He shrugged. “Her loss?”

“Yeah. Her loss.” you gave him a smile. “Beer and pie?”

“There’s pie?”

“There’s pie.” you nodded.

“You’re so good to me.” Dean pulled you into a hug and you smiled, ducking your face against his chest as your arms went around his waist.

“What are friends for, Dean.” the sentiment earned you a kiss on the top of your head before he let you go and you headed for the kitchen.

“You’re in a good mood.” you smiled up at Dean from the motel room table as he walked in, coffee tray in hand. “Let me guess, waitress slipped you her number?” Dean chuckled and shook his head. “Really? Huh.. okay.. Uh.” you thought for a second. “Oh, soccer mom, fresh from school drop off is sexually frustrated cuz her husband is shit in the sack and you’re gonna give her exactly what the dr ordered?”

“You’re disgusting, no.” he shot you a look. “New state, new matches.” he smiled, putting down the coffee and pulling out his phone. “Matched up with this one girl-” you tuned him out as he showed you the girl he’d messaged while out getting coffee.

“Looks hot.” you mumbled, reaching for your cup and tearing your eyes away from his screen. Doing your best to hide the jealousy.

“She is.” he grinned. “You should see this one pic-”

“I don’t think Y/N wants to see some other woman's nudes, Dean.” Sam joked, stepping out of the bathroom in boxer briefs and a shirt, towel drying his hair.

“Of course she does.” Dean scoffed. “She’s my best wingman.”

“Actually, I need to piss. Been waiting for Sammy to get out of that bathroom since the turn of the century.” you laughed as you got up from your seat, leaving Dean laughing at his brothers expense behind you.

“I wasn’t that long.” Sam defended himself.

“Sure there, Rapunzel. “ Dean laughed as the door shut behind you.

Once locked away from them in the privacy of the bathroom, the smile you had plastered to your face fell. Another one? He already had another one? It was the third girl he’d talked to so far this month. Was he planning on meeting her? Fucking her? Of course he was, otherwise he wouldn’t be smiling like an idiot. Pulling out your phone, you opened the app, signed out, and signed up creating a new profile. You kept everything basic but intriguing, found a random picture on google that you knew would grab attention, and hit create. Taking a deep breath, you got to work, swiping past various people as you flushed the unused toilet and ran the water in the sink for a moment. You finished up on your phone, tucked it back into your pocket and stepped out.

“What's your excuse?” Sam teased, poking at how long you were in the bathroom.

“Coffee.” you answered. “You want the details?”

“No ma’am.” Sam was quick to turn back to his own coffee, smile gone from his lips.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Hope you sprayed.” Dean muttered, eyes on his phone.

“Yeah, entire bottle of that cheap cologne you bought for that date last month.” Dean’s eyes shot up and he glared.

“Oof, that bathroom must smell nasty now.” Sam teased.

“Both of you can fuck off, okay, it smelled good.”

“So good she didn’t show up.” Sam teased with a laugh.

“Fuck you both.” Dean spat, getting up from his chair and storming out of the room.

“Think we took it too far, Sammy.”

“He’s done it to me enough times. Since when does he buy cologne anyways?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Did you really spray it?” Sam asked.

“No.” You laughed. “I threw it out a week ago. He hasn’t noticed yet. We’ll just pretend he left it behind somewhere.” you put your finger to your lips to signal it was your little secret.

“Deal. I hope I never smell it again.” Sam scrunched up his face before opening his laptop. “Did Dean get those files from the sheriff?”

“Yeah, I think so..” As you reached for Dean's bag, your phone chimed. Peaking into his duffle, you saw the folders sitting on top and pulled them out, handing them to Sam.

“Maybe we can figure this out while he throws his tantrum.” Sam muttered as you pulled out your phone.

“Yeah.. maybe.” you answered quietly, opening the dating app and seeing you had a new match. You smiled to yourself as you clicked to send a private message.

< For some reason I was feeling a little off today. But when you came along, you definitely turned me on ;)

It was ballsy. Forward and crude could go very wrong, but it just might make him laugh and you were hoping it would. You waited, baited breath as ‘read’ appeared on the screen but nothing followed. You waited a few minutes, pretending to research on your phone before you cursed yourself and closed the app. Your gamble had failed.

With a sigh, you opened your browser and started to actually research. “What’s wrong?” Sam glanced over.

“Dead end.” you lied.

“Yeah.. it’s a rough one.” he nodded, eyes back on his laptop again.

A moment later, your phone went off again.

> Impala67 : Are you a parking ticket, because you’ve got FINE written all over you.

> Impala67 : I’m Dean, by the way.

< Charlotte.

> Impala67 : Nice to meet you, Charlotte.

You expected Dean to come back after an hour pissed, but he didn’t. You didn’t see him until some time a bit after 4:30. “I take it the date went well?” you tried to hide the bite in your tone and were thankful enough he was still enjoying enough of his post fuck high to miss it.

“Didn’t show, but quickly recovered.” he winked as he shut the motel room door behind him. “Why you up so early? Did you wait up for me?” his smile got wider.

“No. You said we were leaving at 5am, remember?”

“Okay but it’s-”

“Almost 5. And Sam’s showering.”

“I’ll just use yours-”

“I’m already checked out.” you turned your attention to your phone. “Next time, take others into consideration, please.”

“What the fuck is up your ass?” he snapped. “Since when do you care where I am or when I get back?”

“Since either I have to smell the stench coming off of you the whole drive, or we’re behind schedule.” you got up from your seat and grabbed your bag. “I’ll be in the car, praying you didn’t fuck in my seat.”

“They’re all my damn seats.” he snapped at you as the door shut behind you. “What the fuck is going on?”

You were behind Dean in the car, he’d jumped in a quick shower, even changed his clothes but when you looked up your eyes were drawn to the dark mark on his neck. Rolling your eyes, you unlocked your phone, signed out of the app and created a new profile.

“What’s gotten into her?” you heard him mumble to Sam.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

You glanced up, and Dean's eyes were on you in the rear-view, but you were quick to look back down at your phone.. “Never mind.” he sighed. “Forget it.”

Another city, another stand up, another pissed off Dean, and then it was back home to Lebanon. The recently finished case on no one's mind. Dean's mood was shit. It was the 12th time he’d been stood up and he was swearing he was done with the dating apps. Fed up with women ghosting him like he was some chump.

You were answering messages on your phone when Dean slammed on the breaks, making you hit the back of the seat in front of you and drop your phone.

“HEY ASSHOLE! YOU NEVER SEE A FUCKING STOP SIGN BEFORE?” Dean was screaming out the window, much to Sam’s embarrassment. The guy flipped him off and Dean revved his engine ready to follow.

“Dean.” Sam warned.

“Whatever.” he surged the car forward, making you fly back against the seat again. With a sigh and a head shake to Sam who’d glanced back at you, you looked out the window and waited for the bunker to come into sight.

Dean was still sitting in his car, parked in the bunker garage. He couldn’t figure it out, and he was trying. Was it something he was saying? Was he being too eager? Too desperate? Too cocky? No, this always worked for him, he hadn’t changed anything. Maybe it just wasn’t how shit worked online, but why agree to meet up if they weren’t going to show..

He was deep in thought when he heard a phone chime. He sighed and pulled out his, but saw no notifications. That confused him until he heard another chime. He glanced around and into the back seat. It took him a minute, but then he spotted it, your phone down on the floor. You must have dropped it when he’d slammed on his brakes when that asshole almost plowed right into him and forgot it. Leaning over the back of the seat, he reached for it.

He was making his way out of the garage when your phone chimed again, and he looked down at the screen as it lit up with the notification. “Dude is coming in hot.” he laughed seeing the beginning of the message some guy had sent. “Is this the kinda shit chicks like?”

Curious now, he swiped his thumb across your screen and was surprised it unlocked without some kind of code. He’d scold you about that later, because he knew he’d get an earful right back for snooping.

He recognized the app that opened. It was the same dating one he’d been trying out. He had no idea you were on there and wondered why he’d never come across your profile. “Why does she even need online dating?” he wondered, reading the messages from some strange guy. Dude was bold, coming on too strong, and he could see your messages were half teasing, but mostly uninterested.

Then he saw the name. “Son of a bitch.”

“You!?” You spun around as Dean stormed into your room, your phone in his hand, and your eyes shot right to it. “It was fucking you!?”

“De-”

“Were they all you?” he demanded, and you clamped your mouth shut. “They were, weren’t they?” he scoffed. “I can’t believe you. I thought we were friends, who the fuck does that to someone? Do you know how fucked up that is?” he unlocked your phone and showed off the messages with him that had spanned the last week and a half until he got stood up and you stopped responding. “Why would you do this to me? WHY!?”

“I’m-”

“Don’t you fucking tell me your sorry.” he growled. “Sorry doesn’t mean shit to me right now, sorry doesn’t even begin to fucking cover what you did to me. I thought it was me. I thought I was the fucking problem, but it wasn’t. It was you.” he shot your phone onto your bed.

Tears blurred your eyes. “Dean, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even want to fucking see you.” he spat before storming out.

You stood there staring at the spot on the floor he vacated. Fighting not to let the tears loose. You’d fucked up. You’d fucked up so bad and there was no taking it back. Swallowing, you turned and started re-packing the bag that you’d be unpacking when he stormed in.

You were working on your second bag when you heard Sam sigh from the doorway. “Why’d you do it?”

“Doesn’t matter.” you mumbled, not turning to face him. Not wanting to see the same look his brother had given you before storming out.

“It matters to him.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Where are you going to go?” Sam asked after a moment of silence.

“I don’t know. But I’m not wanted here anymore, so..” you zipped up the bag and grabbed your phone and keys before slinging one of the bags over your shoulder and grabbing the other.. “It is what it is.”

“Keep in touch, at least?”

“No promises. Good bye, Sam.” and with that, you walked past him and headed for the garage and your car that had been parked there for months.

Before deleting the app, you send out one last message, an apology. Then you deleted all accounts, deleted the app and changed your number. You’d driven off beyond the Midwest and out of their lives, trying your best to never look back, but it was hard. You’d been moving from motel to motel, hunt to hunt like you use to years ago. You’d gotten so use to having somewhere to settle, somewhere to call home. Now all you had was shitty diners, shitty beer, and even worse motel rooms.

It had been about 4 months since you walked out of the bunker. You were tired, and lonely, but no one in the bar you sat at caught your interest, so you finished off your beer and left. The 10 minute walk back to the motel in the cool air doing nothing for your mood. But nothing had been able to lift your mood in a long time.

You walked into your motel room and looked around. It was time to move on, you’d been here a week too long already, but you weren’t sure where to go next. Dropping onto the bed, you grabbed your laptop and started to look for a case.

A knock sounded on your door, and you ignored it. Then again. The third time it was louder. “I’M NOT FUCKING INTERESTED.” you yelled out, only for whoever it was to pound on the door this time. “Jesus fuck.. Take a goddamn hint-” the words died on your lips when you yanked the door open and saw him standing there. “Dean..”

“About fucking time.” he muttered stepping past you and into the room, looking around at the mess. “Looks cozy.” he teased.

“A real home away from home.” you muttered, shutting the door.

“Speaking of, when are you coming back?” he glanced back at you behind him. “I think your tantrum lasted long enough, don’t you?”

“I’m not.” you gave him a confused look. “You didn’t want to see me again, remember? So I left. Why are you here, Dean?”

“Couldn’t exactly call you.” he pointed out. “Numbers disconnected.”

“Changed it.”

“Yeah. And ghosted me again.”

“Again, you didn’t want to see me again.” you pointed out. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to know why. Why’d you do that to me, you have to admit, it was fucked up.” You sigh as you cross the space and drop back onto your bed, staying quiet. Dean sits so he’s facing you and asks again. “Why’d you do it?”

“Because I love you, you dumbass.”

“You-” his brow furrowed as he watched you, you were looking down at your hands like you were afraid to look at him. “How does that even make sense? Why didn’t you just say something?”

“I did.. I tried.” you were picking at the skin around your nail. “But you didn’t seem to notice. You were meeting girls at bars, at diners, and then you started with the app.. You had more dates, spent more and more time on your phone.. I can’t compete with that, Dean. I got jealous, I got upset. I made that first profile not thinking I’d actually get anywhere, but then I did, you saw me, you talked to me like you talked to them and I got lost in that feeling, it felt so good to finally be seen. But then you wanted to meet. And I got scared. Scared that you’d be disappointed it was just me, but I couldn’t bring myself to say no to you, I never could.”

“So you said yes and didn’t show?”

You nodded. “And you were upset, and I felt bad. But I wanted that feeling again, I wanted more than anything to be anyone but me just so you’d see me again. So I became someone else. Always someone else. Catfishing you seemed to be the only way to get your attention. You liked me, Dean. Each and every time it was me and you seemed to like me, but when I acted like that with you, face to face.” you shrugged and finally looked up again. “Sometimes even saying the exact same things, I got nowhere. I was your wingman, I was your friend, but you couldn’t see me beyond that, and I should have just accepted it. I should have respected that I was nothing more and this was one sided and just moved on. I realize that now, and I’m sorry."

Dean was watching you, taking it all in. Processing. He could see the guilt all over your face, the tears stinging your eyes, he knew you meant that apology more than anything. To be honest, he’d forgiven you months ago, but now he had answers to process.

“I’m sorry I fucked up.” you continued. “I’m sorry I fucked up our friendship. I regret it, I regret all of it. I miss you, I miss having a best friend, I miss having a home.” the tears started running down your cheeks and Dean reached out to wipe them away.

“Then come home.”

“I can’t. It can’t go back to the way it was. I can’t just sit there, and watch you with someone else, or-”

Dean cut you off, pressing his lips gently to yours before pulling back again. “Come home. I miss you too.”

“I hurt you..” you whispered.

“Yeah, you did.” he agreed. “We’ll figure it out. Because you’re right, I did like you. I loved our late night chats, I love how dirty you get in DMs, and I miss my closest friend by my side. Come home with me.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” he smiled. “Don’t ghost me this time.”

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging : Dean - @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @evyiione @karikatz12481 @idksupernatural

SPN - @sandlee44 @just-another-busy-fangirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @deanandsamsbitch @deans-baby-momma @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh @ksgeekgirl @hobby27 @maddiepants @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn @fandom-princess-forevermore @kalesrebellion @deanwanddamons

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted @kazkingdom @babypink224221 @emoryhemsworth @ilovefanfic86 @pie-with-hunters @deanmonandnegansbitch @lazinessisalliknow @feelmyroarrrr @letsdisneythings @cdwmtjb8 @notyourtypicalrose @xostephanie @marvelmenmusicandroses @ilovedeanspie @defenderrosetyler @amandamdiehl

#fluff bingo #online dating square #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #dean #dean fic #dean winchester #reader insert #spn #spn fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #sam #sam winchester

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tanakavox · 3 years ago

Text

A look into the multiverse chapter 8 SAOA

Many thanks to my friend friend @bssaz97 for his work on the reactions. And TheGoldenBoy2188 for the strict for SAOA making writing easy. The next reaction will be a suprise so stay tune.

Amidst the streets of Mantle, Whitley Schnee walked towards a destination while wearing a disguise consisting of a coat, scarf, shaded glasses, and a flat cap. He had a mission and he would not waste this opportunity!

It was not every day that he could simply leave the manor without Father's permission or notice so he needed to be quick but not noticeable. He had waited months for this day to arrive. Whitley had pre-ordered the latest MMO game of his favorite game series a week before the initial release date and had come to pick it up. Having connections in the right places certainly did have its benefits. The only downside was he had to acquire his prize somewhere outside of his father's notice. So what other place to go than Atlas's sister kingdom.

Outside of his notice, a young white haired faunus woman with sheep ears followed close behind him. Fiona Thyme was out picking up some food for the rest of the Happy Huntresses when she noticed an unfamiliar person walking around. She knew almost everyone on this side of Mantle, so a new person popping out of the blue was very suspicious. Normally she would have reported this back to Robyn but upon further inspection she recognized who this person was.

It was the sole son of the worst man on Remnant and the newly appointed heir of the Schnee Dust Company, Whitley Schnee! Why was he here in Mantle?! Fiona determined he was up to no good and decided to follow him. Wherever the SDC goes, trouble usually follows!

Whitley finally arrived at the destination he was seeking… the Post Office! Now all he had to do was open the door, enter the establishment aaaaaand- stare dumbfounded as the inside of this place was a theatre.

"What the-? This isn't the post office. Where am I?!" Whitley shouted at no one in particular.

"Ah-ha! Caught you right where I- Huh? Where the hell? This isn't the post office!" Fiona also dumbfounded.

"Whitley?" Both Weiss and Winter stated in a mix of shock and disbelief at seeing their little brother. Maybe some hostility on Weiss part.

"Weiss? Winter? How-?"

"What the hell is this?!" A loud female voice shouted as four more people arrived out of nowhere. Consisting of two normal sized humans, a bunny faunus and a very large man.

"Coco/Velvet/Fox/Yatsuhashi!" Teams RWBY and JNR said collectively.

"Oh hello everyone! This… is a surprise! When did you get to Vacuo?" Velvet asked the group.

Fiona turned towards the new strangers, "Vacuo? What are you talking about? You're all in Mantle?"

"I'm most certain we're in Vacuo at the time." Yatsu spoke.

"You are in neither at the moment." Ozpin spoke up.

"What the- Teach? Weren't you supposed to be dead?!" Coco confusingly points out.

"I believe an explanation is in order."

*One short but informative explanation later*

"Wait so we were brought here to watch… alternate realities?" Fiona says after she and all the new arrivals had been told everything about the theater.

"We call them viewings but yeah pretty much." Ruby said.

"Hold on, I can understand why all of you were brought here, seeing as you all are huntsmen and huntresses. But that doesn't explain why I'm here." Whitley, having taken off his disguise.

"A great question indeed." Weiss mutters.

"I think I have a theory." Blake stepped forward. "So far now, I've noticed that the people who are here have at least some involvement in the viewings that we have been seeing. Remember that one viewing we saw of Whitley being stuck inside a video game?"

"I was stuck in a video game?"

"Also if you die in the game you die for real." Nora added.

Whitley's eyes widened at the implications.

"Well you're still stuck as far as we know. But apparently you're very good at the game so you might be fine." Jaune clarifies. Slightly feeling guilty that his alternate is the one who traps him there.

"Oh joy, now I'm trapped inside a place against my will in two realities!" Whitley throws his hands in frustration.

"Oh boo hoo! Is the rich boy gonna cry because nothings going his way today?" Fiona says in a mocking tone.

"Oh I'm sure you would know so much about crying and complaining about trivial things, thief." He shot back at Fiona.

"At least I think about the people of Mantle! When was the last time you thought of someone outside of yourself, Schnee!" Fiona retorted.

Winter sensing that this conversation was going nowhere stepped in between her brother and the happy huntress.

"Enough! None of us came here by choice so let's just stop this pointless arguing and move on."

Fiona huffed, "I couldn't agree more." She stomped away from the two siblings and found herself a seat in the theater.

Winter sighed, "It may not be ideal but as long as you are here Whitley, I would just suggest sitting tight and wait until you or all of us are able to leave this place."

"Hmph, very well. Thank you sister, it almost sounds like you care." Whitley took his leave and found a seat that was about four seats away from Weiss's team.

"Isn't there anywhere else you want to sit," Weiss practically hisses.

"Oh but Weiss it's the only seat that's close enough to you." Whitley affirmed.

Weiss groans in frustration, 'Hopefully it's only for one viewing…'

An acoustic guitar plays in the background as a montage of the events of and post-Episode 1 appears on the screen and a narrator began to talk.

" A month had passed since that fateful day. When everyone's world got all twisted, leaving them stranded in a castle in the sky. Since then, 2000 poor souls came to an abrupt and tragic end. Some by bad luck, others by sheer stupidity. I mean, really. Why would you just stand in fire? Anyways, that didn't bother The Kid none. He only cared about one thing, and one thing alone. Himself. 'Cuz in a game of life or death, you either live... or you die."

The scene transitions to Shirou leaning against a wall with an annoyed look on his face.

"What?! Two thousand of the players have died already!" Ruby yelled, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Not surprising, seeing as many of them looked weak last viewing." Cinder coolly replies.

Many huntsmen and huntresses glared at the red clad woman. She paid them no mind.

"Well thank you very much Narrator, you're doing a wonderful job of explaining the total death count of this video game prison." Whitley commented dryly.

"Oh, WOW. What brilliant insight! It's so deep it loops right back around to being stupid." Shirou snarked.

"The Kid ranted at no one, it slowly dawning just how alone he truly was" Narrator continued..

Whitley's eyes narrowed, "Am I being sassed by the narrator?"

"Maybe you said something to piss them off." Fiona added.

"Wait, what was that?" Shirou asks, shocked.

"He asked the sky, like a preacher to his silent gods."

"What gods? What are you talking about?! It's all bullshit metaphors with you!"

"He cried, not knowing the difference between a simile and a metaphor. The tininess of his brain dwarfed only by the tininess of his di-"

Whitley's eyes narrowed and face twitched at how much of an annoyance this narrator was being.

Weiss was doing her best to conceal her smile but was failing and breathes out a laugh. She was enjoying the exchange that her brother was going through and found it amusing. Her team gave her a side glance while Fiona and a few others laughed at the roast session the young Schnee was being given.

"Narrator off." Shirou commands the system with an annoyed tone.

"YOUCANSILENCEMEBUTYOUCAN'TSILENCETHETRU-" The narrator got cut off.

"Dick."

"Thank gods that's over, that narrator was extremely rude." Whitley sighed thankfully now that the narrator was silenced.

Weiss and Fiona grumbled that their fun was ruined.

Fade into December 2, 2022, on a strategy meeting led by man called Diabel. He gave a big smiled out to the crow

"Hey everyone. Thank you all for coming to our little powwow. Now, I know many of you may be discouraged by the fact that 2000 people have died so far."

" WHAT?!" A player screamed

" 2000 PEOPLE ARE DEAD?!" Another screamed.

"IT HASN'T EVEN BEEN A MONTH YET!"

"OH MY GOD, WE REALLY ARE FUCKED!"

"Pretty much, sucks to be you!" Mercury laughed.

"These are the people that have to survive this game. Honestly what was blondie expecting," Emerald facepalms.

"Hey! Just because they've lost numbers doesn't mean that they have to lose hope!" Ruby glared at the two assassins.

"And I know even more of you are a little down because we haven't even cleared the First Floor yet." Diabel added, trying to keep the smile on his face.

"WE HAVEN'T?!"

"I THOUGHT WE WERE ALMOST DONE...!"

"You were saying." Cinder looked back at Ruby.

"Well…" Ruby trailed off, thinking of a way to defend these players.

Diabel's smile wavered

"Uh, you guys do know there are 100 Floors, right?"

"WHAT?!" A crowd of players yelled.

Diabels sighed a bit.

Ruby, despite her best attempts, also sighed and sat back down.

"Oh jeez, I am just making things worse. Point is, we found the Boss Room!"

The crowd gasps.

"Now, we've formulated a few strategies with some help from the beta testers-"

"BETA TESTERS?!" A voice yells out.

"Oh goddammit!" Diabel groaned argnily

A player named Kibaou jumps in.

Kibaou, what do you want? Diabel looked tired addressing this player.

"Beta testers? They're the reason we're stuck in this game!" Kibaoyu sneered

Many that heard this player's statement and quickly frowned at his blatant accusations towards these 'beta-testers.'

"This guy can't be serious, right?" Coco stated.

Dianel looked at Kibaou flatterausted at the stupidity of the statement he heard

"What?! Do you have any evidence to back that up?"

Kiabrou scoffed at the question. "Pfft! Evidence. I don't need no evidence. Isn't that right, Jesus?" He points to a player named "Jesus"

" It's pronounced "Hey-Zeus", and I don't know you."

"Wow, really selling your reasoning by having no one else to support your claim." Jaune stated while crossing his arms.

"Well, they still should have helped us newbies!" He exclaimed

"If I might interject...:" A deep voice called out.

A big muscular man gets up and comes to the stage.

Velvet taps Yatsu's arm excitedly, "Hey you're in this game too Yatsu! …oh gods you're in this game too."

"So it seems," Yatsu, doing his best to keep a straight face.

Coco lowered her shades along with a confused look. As far as she knew, Velvet was the only one who played video games on their team. Unless...

"And who the hell are you?!"

"I am known by many names.", "Closed eyed demon. The memory easer., "Hooked clawed tiger". But you? You may call me... "Velvet".

"Velvet huh? That's a... pretty masculine name." Kibaoru said adwarkley

"Shouldn't be. It's a woman's name." Velvet replied casually.

"Damn it. I had a feeling but I didn't want to be right." Coco cursed quietly while shaking her head.

"Wait, why would Yatsu have a character named after me? That doesn't- ...Oh ...oh my gods." Velvet's eyes widened at the implications, tears starting to build. That is until she felt a nudge on one of her shoulders. She turned her head and there was Yatsuhashi looking at Velvet with a gaze that said, 'It's not your fault.'

"Kay, I don't know how to talk to you."

"Good. Then you can shut up and listen. Does everyone here have this book in their inventory?"

" Yeah.

" Yes."

"Yup."

"Yeah."

" No... Wait, can I change my answer?"

Velvet/Yatsushi held up a book to show to everyone.

" This book is full of tips and strategies on how to survive this game, put together by the beta testers. Everyone read it, yet some people still died. The beta testers did everything they could."

"Yeah, that means Mace Hair has no reason to blame the beta testers!" Ruby points out.

Many of her friends nodded and Yastu's team smiled at the sound defense his alternate presented.

" Actually, I didn't read it." One player chimed up.

"Yeah, I didn't read it either."

"I skimmed it."

"OH COME ON!" Many members of the audience shouted in agitation.

"What? Didn't ANY of you read it?! It is literally a matter of life and death." Velvet exclaimed

"Well, dude. It's like 80 pages." A player pointed

"2000 people are dead!"

"THEY ARE?!"

"Again. These are the people that have to survive this game." Emerald reiterates.

Brief pause. Shirou looks shocked at their stupidity.

"I am so done with you people." Velvet mutters, walking off the stage.

" What do you mean "you people"?" A player asked a bit offended.

The Faunus in the room narrowed at their eyes at the implications made by that player.

"What do you mean, "you people"?" Fiona asks no one in particular.

Velvet and Kibaou take their seats.

Diabel continued with the meeting. "So, as Mister Hooked clawed tiger was saying, this book has some great strategies, including how to beat the First Boss, Illfang."

He clears his throat and starts reading from the guide.

"So as you enter the Boss Room, he's gonna throw wave after wave of disposable minions at you... and you must answer in kind."...?

"Uh, what?" A player asks, mirroring Diabel confusion.

Many in the audience reacted just as confused. All except Whitley, who had a good feeling where this was going.

Diabel continues

"Send the weaker players first. Good rule of thumb: If a player asks you for gold 2 seconds after meeting you, front lines."

"Ha, serves 'em right!" Kiaboru said with a laugh

"If they hijack conversations to rant about their political views, front lines."Diabel said with a smirk looking at Kiaboru.

Kibaou went pale. "Aw, shit."

"Ha! Serves you right!" Nora laughed.

"If they ask female players for pics of their boobs, front lines."

"OH BULLSHIT!" One player screamed out in rage.

"THAT'S DISCRIMINATION!" Another one howled.

"BOO!"

Many of the women in the theater frown at the way those players reacted. Winter was more than certain that those players were the type that participated in the mentioned acts the speaker spoke on.

Diabel smiles and waves them down. "Now, now, people. I think there are some valid points being made here. Now, it goes on to say when Illfang's health goes into the red, he's going to switch from his axe and buckler to something called a "Talwar". At that point we should initiate a strategy called "The Final Solution" and- I'm just gonna stop reading! Jesus, who wrote this thing?"

Shirou giggles evilly.

"Of course Whitley wrote that book." Weiss sighed.

"Why sister, it sounds like that didn't surprise you in the least." Whitley pretending to act hurt.

"Please. The manipulative tone of the text almost makes one sound too much like you." Weiss bit back.

"Well I suppose you would know." A wide smile on Whitley's face.

Weiss scoffs turning her head away from her traitorous brother.

Team R_BY and Winter watched the exchange and sighed.

"Okay, so the guide's a bust. But it'll be fine. I'll come up with a great plan for us." Diabel smiles at the crowed.

"Like what?"

" Well... we... could... Uh... Uhhhh... I'm open to suggestions."

"Woah, guys, we could- we could, you know, like, group up and-"

"And hit it 'til it DIES!" Another yelled finishing the other player sentence

"Woo, nice!"

"Yeah!"

" High five!"

The two hive five.

"Well. It's something, right?." Velvet does her best to be optimistic.

Many of the more experienced members of the theater shake their heads.

"That's... a good start. But let's hear some other suggestions."

"I'd like to hear more about this "Final Solution"." A player in a german accent piped up.

"Fuck it, group up." said Diabel said tirely.

Shirou slides down the seats towards a girl, named Fiona, who's on her own.

Fiona blinks in surprise, "Oh my gods, that's me! I'm in the game! Hey other me, stay away from the Schnee!"

"You have my condolences." Weiss says to the sheep faunus.

"So, why aren't, uh, you joining anyone's group?" Shirou asked.

"I have my reasons." She said mysterioly

" Is it because you're a girl?"

"No. It's because... I don't know how to play."

"Because you're a girl?"

Many of the females and males who enjoy video games, such as Yang, Ruby, Velvet, Nora,, Jaune, Oscar, Ren, surprisingly Mercury and Emerald, along with Fiona herself, threw questioning glares towards the current heir of the SDC. Weiss and Winter glared at him as well but for other reasons.

Whitley looks around to see all the glares directed towards him. "Why are you all looking at me? I said nothing."

"No!" Fiona snapped. "It's just... I don't know how to open the menu."

"What?" Both Fiona and Whitley asked.

"Jinx!" Nora shouts.

"What?!" Shriou looked at the girl in shock. "But you can't do anything in this game without the menu. How have you survived all month?"

Cut to Fiona holding a piece of bread. She is staring at it intensely. "HOW DO I EAT YOU?!" She screamed at it.

Many laughs were had at the poor girl's predicament, despite some of them doing their best to not do so but could not help themselves.

Fiona slowly sank into her chair, covering her face in shame. Her alternate was the utter definition of a newb player.

Back to the present.

"It's... been a challenge…" She muttered before looking at Shirou. "What about you? Why haven't you join the others?"

"Oh, lots of reasons. Mostly because they're a bunch of mouth-breathing neckbeards who think "LMAO" is how French people laugh."

" Ha ha, that's so Le Mao!" Said one player far away causing to Shirou shudder.

Whitley in the theater also shudders in disgust. If these were the people that he would have been surrounded by inside the game, then he too would have avoided them like a plague.

"Wow. You certainly... speak from the heart."

"Funny, I thought I was speaking from my mouth. But, eh, shows what I know about biology." He said with a smirk.

"No one else wanted you in their group, did they?"

"Shut up! It was mutual!"

"And who would blame me? Have you seen the players of this game? I'm honestly surprised they lived this long."

"You're just saying that 'cause no one wanted a smartass on their team." Fiona smirked.

"I'm sorry, were you speaking Menu Girl?" Whitley nonchalantly retorts.

Fiona's face grew red in embarrassment and agitation. She wanted nothing more than to raise her hand and activate her semblance right now. 'Give me a reason Schnee, I dare you.'

It cuts back to Diabel smiling and clapping his hands.

"Alright, looks like everyone's grouped up. Get plenty of rest tonight, people! We leave at noon!"

A player groans "Noon?"

"That's so early!"

Diabel sighs. "Alright. What about 1 o'clock?"

" Dude, come on!"

" God, fine! We leave at the crack of... 2:30, I guess. Lazy butts…"

"Christ, I'm gonna have to set my alarm."

Everyone in the theater did not have high expectations for these players as they would face their first challenge.

Cuts to December 3, 2022 Floor 1: Illfang's Tower, 7:30pm. Everyone's at the Boss Door and everyone except Diabel is exhausted.

"Okay, so there were a few more stairs than we realized. Apparently real life athletic ability translates into the game. Good to know." Diabel looked out to the sad sight in front of him.

"Oh, god. I can feel my lungs trying to kill me." One player whined.

" Is this sweat?!"

" I peed a little."

" Jesus, this is sad." Diabel said with a grimace.

One player vomits.

"Congrats Jaune, someone else has now become the new Vomit Boy of this viewing!" Yang exclaimed.

Jaune rolled his eyes at her attempt at making him feel better.

"Fuck it. Why don't you all just take a Cheetos and Mountain Dew break, and we'll reconvene in an hour."

1960 Batman-Esque transition with Cheetos and Mountain Dew.

" Dammit, guys! I was kidding! You weren't supposed to actually take an hour!" Dibal said in a rage."God, we've lost so much time. Let's just do this already! You all know the plan!"

Illfang jumps into the center of the room and roars. Kobolds pop in, and an error message pops up on the third one that says "Error: "Sentinel_ " not found."

Ruby and Nora laughed at the mob that got glitched.

"Alright, men!" Diabel began,"Form up and-"

"EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" A player screams

The armies converge on each other.

"Are they serious! You can't just go gung-ho in a boss battle!" Jaune exclaimed at the increasingly apparent, dim-witted players.

"What?! No! Goddammit guys!" Diabel begins to bark out orders. "Squad B, quit attacking the Boss and keep the Sentinels off us! C, D, stop attacking from the front! Do you even know what "flank" means?! Squad F, for fuck's sake! Stop playing Bejeweled! *Groans* Squad G, get in there and help A and B!"

"Got it!" Shirou said with a nod rushing in.

"Don't talk back to…" Diabel did a double take."l Holy shit, really?!"

"How is Whitley the most sensible minded player in this game?!" Weiss asked.

"Weiss, have you seen the other players?" Blake asked her in a deadpanned tone.

"...Yes you're right, that's actually too much of an insult." Weiss admits.

Shirou attacks a Sentinel, leaving Fiona to finish it off.

"Okay, Fiona! What you're gonna wanna do here is-"

Fiona lets out a Battle Cry and kills the Sentinel in one hit.

Fiona in the theater perked up at this display, "Oh my- I can fight! Oh thank gods I can fight!"

Shirou eyes widened in shock "Wow, I thought she was hopeless, but her technique is flawless. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's even better than I-"

"Hey Shirou! I killed the thing and now it says I have XPs! Is that bad? Am I dying?! Fiona cried out to him in fear."

Shirou rolls his eyes"Or... maybe... not."

"Miss Fiona, either your alternate is very lucky or is very out of base with technology. I can't tell which it is." Whitley stated.

"Shut up Schnee, she's trying!" Fiona defends her other self.

Illfang's health drops into the red. He snarls at the players and he tosses his weapons.

"Alright, men! This last part's gonna take careful coordination…" Diabel ran towards Illfang. "which is why I'm just gonna do it myself!"

Diabel charges his weapon art. Illfang draws his Ōdachi.

Ruby's eyes widened, "OH NO!"

Shirou looked and saw the weapon and his eyes widened calling to Diabel. "Oh shit! Diabel, look out! That's not a Talwar! It's an Ōdachi!"

"What's the difference?!" Diabel ask still running towards Illfang.

"Well, a Talwar is of Indian descent while an Ōdachi is Japanese! While both are primarily slashing weapons, the Talwar was favored by cavalrymen, as opposed to an Ōdachi which was mainly used for dick measuring!" As Shirou is talking, Illfang starts jumping off the walls.

" What's your point?!" Diabel asked impaintely.

"Well if you let me finish, I was getting to that! You see…"

Diabel gets hit by Illfang, screaming in pain.

Many of the huntsmen and huntresses in the theater either gasped in fear or looked away at the surely doomed player.

"What's happening? Did I miss something?" Fox called out.

"Oops." Shirou sheepishly said.

Illfang hits Diabel again, sending him flying.

"DIABEL!" Kibaou yelled out.

Illfang pops down in front of Kibaou and roars. A message pops up "Bonus Item: Soiled Pants". Above Kibaou

"Hey, rare drop!' A player said cheerfully.

Mercury laughed at the joke while most of the others were disgusted by the fact that that achievement was unlockable.

Shirou runs over to Diabel and holds him up.

" I was trying to say an Ōdachi's a little bit longer than a Talwar, so it'll have more reach and do a bit more damage."

"And why couldn't you say that first?" Diabel asked weakly

"Yeah you dummy! You almost might've killed him!" Ruby cries out.

Whitley was actually taken aback by that statement. Sure he had moments of pride and arrogance, sometimes he looked down on people but he didn't believe he would ever intentionally kill someone.

" I like to think of myself as a teacher. Anyway, drink this."

Shirou tries to give Diabel a healing potion but he stopped Shirou shaking his head.

"No. It's better this way. I just can't do it anymore. I had such high hopes at first. But now? Our best player is a girl who thinks DPS is some kind of sex thing." Both turned to glance to Fiona.

"I know. It's weird, right?"

Fiona sulked more into her chair.

"You're clearly not like the rest of them. How do you stand it, Shirou? Where do you draw your strength?" Diabel look at Shirou like a sage.

Shirou sigh and drops his wisdom onto him. "I've been playing MMO's a long time, Diabel, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that lions do not concern himself with the opinions of sheep. Just take that little voice in your head that tells you to be tactful and understanding... and shoot it. Shoot it in the goddamn face."

" You are so wise. If only I'd met you sooner. Perhaps, things would have been different. You must lead them now. Show them this game can be beaten." Diabel let's go of Shirou wrist.

Weiss was taken aback that this man was actually willing to place trust in this alternate of her brother. This stranger who barely even knows him placed the lives of all the players into his hands. Much like how she tried to trust Whitley once… this caused a bitter frown to grow on her face in recollection. Even if this was a different version of him, it was still Whitley in her eyes.

Shirou smiles fondly at Diabel. "Another life... in another time... I think we could have been friends."

"I... doubt it." Diabel gasps out before turning to shattered glass, dying.

" Well fuck you, too!" Shirou said angrily his smile dropping into a frown.

Fiona slips in by Shirou's side and began to lay out a plan.

"Alright, Shirou. Here's what we'll do. One counters his blows to knock him off balance and the other switches in to attack. Rinse. Repeat. Victory."

Shirou looked at her with one eye. "You came up with that, but you can't open a menu."

"Shut up!" Fiona cried out.

Illfang roars and they take off running toward him.

"Alright, so you counter and I'll attack!" Shirou yelled to Fiona.

"What? No, it's my plan! I should attack!" Fiona yelled back.

"Fine, just get ready!"

Shirou makes a battle cry and counters Illfang's attack.

"SWITCH!"

Fiona moves in and gets her cloak destroyed by Illfang before attacking revealing white curly hair and sheep ears.

" See? You almost got yourself killed! I'll attack him!" Shirou yelled again and began to attack Illfang.

"Oh, that was a fluke, and you know it! He's mine!" Fiona yelled back.

Fiona attacks Illfang.

"Oh shit. They're actually giving that boss the work!" Coco called out.

"He's mine!" Shirou yelled.

Shirou blocks Illfang's next attack, but Fiona attacks him before Shirou can do so himself.:

"Mine!" Fiona screams

"NO! HE'S! MIIIIIIIIIIINE!"

Shirou slices Illfang and he explodes. Everyone is stunned. Lame party kazoo sound effect and a banner with the word "CONGRATULATION" appears.

"Yeah!" A player cheer.

This caused almost everyone in the audience to laugh. Despite the dark humor of it all, it was still pretty hilarious.

"What happened? Did they win?" Fox asks

"Oh yes, I'm sorry Fox! They beat the boss and a victory banner came out."

"...heh." Fox chuckled.

Shirou is panting. He gets an item as a reward for defeating the Boss.

"Congratulations!" Velvet said, patting him on the back. "That was even more impressive than that cat that learned to play."

Cut to a player with a cat's head, with another player staring at it.

"Meow."

"Huh what did you know?" Yang replied.

"Oh my god! You guys can see it too?! So I'm not crazy! Isn't that great, Jesus?!" We see things from the players' perceptive, with a giant hallucination of Jesus Christ looming over the crowd.

"That's right, Jeffrey. Now... kill them all." Jesus said, his voice growing darker.

"As you command, my Lord." Jeffrey whispered.

"Somethings very wrong with that guy." Qrow states.

"I honestly agree with you, Branwen… Blegh! That left a horrible taste in my mouth." Winter stated.

Cut back to Velvet talking to Shirou. The other players are applauding his victory.

"You've led us to victory, Shirou. These men and I will follow you to hell itself. Now... address your people." Velvet is smiling and pushing Shirou to the crowd.

Shirou gets up and smirks. "I always knew this day would come. Ahem. Fellow gamers! We have traveled far and up many stairs to get to this point. Fighting side by side, noobs, and leets, alike. I'd like to take a moment to say that I couldn't have done it without the help of each and every one of you."

"Aw, that's a nice thing to say-" Velvet was cut off when Shirou counties.

"Of course, I'm not a liar, so I'm not gonna say any of that."

"Oh shit."

"I thought as much." Weiss states.

Shirou grins look at the group. "I mean, really. I could've done this whole Boss Fight myself. But to be fair, I guess you did absorb a bit of damage for me, which was nice. You were an adequate meat shield, and no one can ever take that away from you."

"Fuck. Fuck! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Velvet started to say.

"So for those of you who came in late, and that one guy playing Bejeweled back there... shoot for the stars... it'll make it more fun when I kick you back into the dirt."

"You're not better than us!" Kiaboru said.

"Yeah! What makes you think you're so cool?!" Nora shouts to the screen.

Shirou equips the coat he got for beating Illfang and smugly looks at the group."My sweet-ass coat begs to differ."

"Dammit, he's got us there." one player muttered.

Shirou ascends the stairs out of the Boss Room. Fiona follows him and grabs him by the shoulder. "Shirou, wait!"

Those in the audience looked on at Fiona's alternate in hope. Surely she could turn him around after their excellent display of partnership.

"I want half." She said, staring at him blankly.

That hope was quickly squashed, shot at, and finally burned to death via gasoline and cracking a fire dust crystal.

Shirou turns to her confused. " I'm... sorry. What?!"

"I want half the coat. I did half the work, I should get half the coat." Fiona explain and extends her hand for him give it to her.

"No! It's not fabric I can cut! It's just a bunch of 1s and 0s!" Shirou was getting frustrated.

"Fine, then give me the 1s."

" Fuck you! I want the 1s!" He groans and open the menu. "I am not having this argument. I'm disolving this party." Shirou opens his menu and "Di-solves" their party.

"Shirou! If you walk away with my half of the coat, I will make your life a living hell!" Fiona screamed.

"You know what? Fine! I'll give you the damn coat! Just send me a trade request."

"A... what?"

Fiona's eyes widened as she watched from the theater, "No…"

Shirou grins viciously "Oh, it's quite simple really... Just open your menu." Shirou starts laughing maniacally as he walks out the doors as Fiona screams at him:"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" At him.

Outro Plays.

Fiona screams, "I can't believe the nerve of that-! GRAAAAH!"

"Can you please stop screaming! You're going to cause everyone's ears to bleed." Whitley said while using a handkerchief to rub his ears.

Fiona huffed then matched off, going to another place in the theater.

"Well that was interesting. So you all say there's other viewings where we see other worlds besides this one." Coco asked the group.

"Oh yeah, we've seen a couple worlds ourselves, but only a handful I'd say." Yang admits.

"Well as long as we're here, we might as well take time to catch up." Velvet smiled.

"Yeah, this will be great! It's almost like we're back at Beacon, right Weiss? ...Weiss?" Ruby looks beside her but noticed that her partner was not with them anymore.

In another side of the theater, the all three Schnee siblings stand together. Both of the youngest siblings look at Winter who brought them here.

Winter clears her throat, "I understand that there are some… tension between the three of us during this viewing. So I asked you both here so that we may come to terms with our situation."

Weiss scoffs, "Come to terms with him! I highly doubt that."

Whitley crosses his arms, "Yes it does seem like a lost cause Winter."

"Enough! Both of you!" Winter raised her voice causing both of her younger siblings to go rigid. "I'm not expecting you to get along or even apologize to each other at the moment. What I ask is if you two can at least act civil with one another while in the theater?"

Both Weiss and Whitley looked at each other and sneered at each other.

"Why of course I can be civil with Whitley. It is a virtue of a lady to be civil at all times." Weiss said with hidden venom.

"Quite true, but being civil is also a quality an heir of the Schnee family must cultivate as well. So I look forward to spending this immeasurable amount of time with you my sisters." Whitley said with his best presentable smile.

"Yes, how I enjoy us taking this time to reacquaint with each other." Weiss said while one of her eyes was twitching.

"Well then sister, shall we?" Whitley gestured for Weiss to go ahead of him. Almost would have been believable if one did not notice the glint in his eyes and his strained smile.

Winter watched as both Weiss and Whitley walked back to the auditorium where everyone else had remained.

"...This can only end badly."

Hope you enjoyed.

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the-l-spacer · 4 years ago

Link

Summary: After a battle goes wrong, Madeleine realises that he's not as infallible a knight as he'd hoped.

(He deals with it badly. Espresso helps.)

haha madeleine hurt/comfort time.

Madeleine wasn’t okay.

Madeleine wasn’t okay, and yet, he knew it hardly mattered. Not when the battle had gone this wrong.

Surrounding him were remnants of the fight. Ripped pages of monster books that snapped at their heels now drifted slowly to the ground, the air clouded with dust from collapsed bookshelves, the wisps of the nightmare-ridden librarian’s howling specter dissipating slowly. Behind him, his fallen companions; Custard, Chilli Pepper and Gingerbrave.

The companions that he had failed to protect.

The only other cookie that remained standing was Espresso, though the mage was hardly in any position to help. Bleeding from several places, and swaying on his feet, his eyes unfocused.

First order of business, help the mage off his feet.

Madeleine limped over, gritting his teeth whenever his weight landed on his shattered right ankle. He slung an arm around Espresso. “Alright, I’ll get you somewhere you can rest. Then, I’ll tend to the others.”

Espresso did not respond, only sinking ever-so-slightly against Madeleine. Together, they hobbled over to the nearest bench, where Madeleine set his friend gently down.

“K-knight. You need to rest, too,” Espresso finally rasped. “You’re in no state to move. The others will wake up on their own.”

“There’s no guarantee that they will. The librarian hit them hard.” Madeleine felt panic begin to rise from his chest, his usual eloquence leaving him. “They looked bad. Really bad. I must go to them. I must.”

He got back up roughly, batting away Espresso’s thin, brown hand that reached out to hold him back.

In his head, over and over again, The young cookies are dying. Dead. And it’s all your fault.

“No. No. Nononono.” He reached Custard first, knelt gracelessly on the dank, carpeted floor beside the would-be boy king. With hands that shook from panic and pain, he drew the last of his healing potions from his pouch, and tipped half of it into the boy’s mouth. “T-The Divine, please spare your grace to save this child. If it be your will, if it be your will-”

A sliver of light filtered in through the dust-caked windows, warming his skin. Sleepily, Custard’s eyes opened.

The relief he felt nearly made him double over, but he knew he couldn’t spare a moment to rejoice.

“Heal the others,” he softly said. Standing on knees that trembled, he made his way to Chilli Pepper. When he first met the de-facto caretaker of the young band of cookies, he’d turned his nose up at the common, mercenary thief. Yet, over their journey she had proven to genuinely care for the children she’d unwittingly found under her charge, and Madeleine knew she could be trusted to take care of them now, when they were at their weakest.

His left knee hit the ground at her side, and he gave Chilli Pepper the dregs of the red potion. The thief’s eyes flew open. “Madeleine…? You.. what’s going on…” As memories of the fight returned, she sat bolt upright. “Gingerbrave! Custard! The stupid brats insisted on coming with us to fight, and now-”

“-Custard is awake. Gingerbrave is still out,” he hoarsely interjected. “Go to him.”

Ordinarily, Chilli Pepper would have scoffed at taking orders from a toff. Now, she only nodded, and stumbled to her feet.

Madeleine was left, kneeling gingerly on the floor, lacking the strength to get up, willing himself to stay conscious. As if through water, he could hear the sounds of pounding footsteps. Wizard and Strawberry, who had stayed behind where they had made camp, arrived at the scene.

Distantly, he heard the cookies crowd around Gingerbrave, saw the healing glow as Custard laid his hands over the boy. He prayed to The Divine that it would be enough.

A collective cheer rose from the group, and Madeleine let his head hang in relieved gratitude.

A while later, he became aware of several presences around him. “Mister Madeleine? I’m going to heal you now!” The voice of Custard cut partly through the fog in his mind, and he gave a small nod.

He felt hands — child’s hands, too young and small to have to face the battlefield like this, and yet, unshaken in his determination to do so — rest on his shoulders.

And bit by bit, the pain was lifted. Cuts sealed, bruises faded from purple, to yellow, and then, nothing, the gash around his midsection closed up, his ankle righted itself, and the sudden lightness that he felt left him giddy.

He slumped forward, and found himself caught by a pair of familiar arms. “Don’t pass out on me, Madeleine” He looked up, and there Espresso was, brown eyes filled with concern.

“Espresso…” Madeleine murmured. Then, noticing the others around him, he tried to right himself, despite the churning of his stomach, “Espresso! How kind of you to catch me. I must say, I’m much obliged!”

Upon hearing him speak, the cookies let out a breath of relief. Gingerbrave threw his arms around the paladin, shouting, “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Before he could respond in kind, Chilli Pepper quickly pried Gingerbrave off. “Hey! The guy needs some space. Let’s go back to camp, yeah?” A responding chorus of cheers rose up from the kids, and they began running back the way they came, the lure of warm food and rest drawing them away from Madeleine and Espresso, still kneeling amongst the carnage.

Madeleine watched as Gingerbrave, who just minutes before had been nothing but a crumpled heap, raced the others, darting between bookshelves, yelling and laughing. He saw Custard bossing the others around playfully, as if the very same did not happen to him.

Espresso’s hand cupped his face, gently turning it back to his. “Madeleine, are you certain that you’re ‘okay’. You seem… unlike yourself.”

Upon hearing the other cookie’s words, the weight of his guilt doubled on his shoulders, and he sagged. “I failed them, Espresso.” He whispered. “I swore I would protect them at all costs, but then…”

The specter of the librarian, dwarfing the bookshelves of the Forgotten Academy’s library. Its ghastly form ranting and raving over distant memories of noisy students,. Flinging wild, relentless projectiles the size and weight of bricks at the party before it.

Custard going down under the barrage. Gingerbrave and Chilli Pepper’s anguished screams as they saw their friend fall, before swiftly meeting the same fate.

His breathing quickened as scenario after scenario flashed before his eyes. If the potion had been too weak, if The Divine hadn't answered, if Custard and Chilli Pepper had been too slow in stabilising Gingerbrave.

Dimly, he could hear Espresso’s voice. “Madeleine? Madeleine! Listen to me, you’re spiralling, you foolish knight!”

His heart racing, he laughed, high and unnatural. “Yes, I’ve been foolish, haven’t I? If I hadn’t been so slow, so weak, so foolish, perhaps none of this would have happened. Perhaps, perhaps if I hadn’t been such a failure of a protector!”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Espresso said, panicking, mentally combing for books he’d read on how to deal with a situation such as this. “Okay. You need to breathe. Can you breathe with me? In for three, then hold it for four counts, then let it out in five? Can I hold you?”

Everything was too much. Too much and Madeleine was shaking and he wanted to scream or cry or both but all he did was give a tight nod.

Arms encircled his shoulders, warm and feeling like home, and he almost threw them off because how could someone like Espresso want someone like him, someone who had failed so badly in his oath, who, through incompetence nearly caused the death of children?

“I- I- Espresso, it's my fault,” he gasped, “my fault.”

Espresso’s voice was soft. “It wasn’t your fault, Madeleine. Now breathe with me. In… and hold… and out.”

Madeleine tried to match the other cookie’s breaths, and after a while, his own breathing slowed.

They stayed there, simply breathing together. Then, Espresso repeated, “It wasn’t your fault. None of us were prepared for this. Even with the extent of my skill, I nearly perished trying to defeat that… that thing. You did the best you could.”

“I promised myself, when I first knew that the cookies I’d be escorting to the Vanilla Kingdom were children, that I’d defend them. I’d take the blows so they didn’t have to.”

“And you have.”

“But it wasn’t enough.” The tears came, pooling in his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. “In the end, it wasn’t enough.”

Wordlessly, Espresso’s arms tightened around him, and Madeleine collapsed against him, face pressed to Espresso’s chest, tears wetting the front of his robe.

Silence, but for Madeleine’s soft sobs. Espresso closed his eyes, and continued, “I’ve never said this before, but I suppose there’s no other time but this. You’re the-” He grimaced slightly against the next words, unused to such openness. “-The strongest, bravest cookie I know. I don’t know no one else so willing to throw themselves in front of others to defend them. Foolhardy as all hell, but brave.”

A choked, disbelieving laugh. “Really.”

“Really,” he affirmed.

“And what of today,” Madeleine said, “If- when the ‘brave’ defender fails to defend.”

"You forgive yourself. You train, become stronger, and do better. You thank the stars that everyone made it out alive. There’s no use dwelling on ‘if’s. I know I'm a damn hypocrite for saying this, but failure doesn't doom you." A sound of incredulity from Madeleine. "It's something I struggle with too, but I do remember Latte telling me something of this sort... Our failures don't define us. We- you are enough, just as you are."

They remained that way, Madeleine clinging to Espresso until his tears slowed. A few minutes passed, perhaps more. Faintly, Madeleine said, “...my leg’s fallen asleep.”

Espresso chuckled. “We should probably get up, then.”

The two cookies helped each other to their feet, and began the slow walk back to camp, in companionable quiet that followed. Espresso chanced a look at Madeleine. The paladin was running a hand through dishevelled hair, cleaning up his appearance so the others wouldn’t worry. His red-rimmed eyes fixed on him. “Thank you,” he murmured, “for calming me down. For… for your words.”

“Don’t think I didn’t mean every one of them.”

Madeleine took Espresso’s hand in his, squeezed briefly, and let go.

“...Besides,” the mage smiled impishly. “What else are boyfriends for?”

He strode ahead, leaving Madeleine trailing behind, gobsmacked, his mouth forming the word ‘boyfriend’ over and over, a stupid grin eventually spreading across the paladin's face.

After all, sometimes what one needed to feel better was warm reassurance, and sometimes, one needed a surprising kick to the system. And like all good coffee, it was Espresso’s pleasure to provide both.

#cookie run #espresseleine #cookie run kingdom #ESPRESSELEINE BRAIN ROT REAL AAAAAAAA #anyways kinda rushed this one out just. take it a;lkdjfklsd

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Sorry (Part 4)

Summary- You are Michael’s vessel as you are Dean’s kid and letting him use you instead of your dad.

Dean x Daughter!Reader

Word count- 3862

Masterlist

It was an abandoned church people were hanging from chains, some crying others passed out from their wounds one man slowly bleeds in a goblet bound to a chair. Footsteps approach Michael healing a cut on the man bleeding Michael takes the goblet that is now full of blood and nods approvingly.

“A little of this… a little of that.” He pours some angel grace in and swirls it as it dissolves, “and," Michael forces the man’s mouth open and pours the blood down his throat.

“Yes, good boy.” The man begins to choke and gasp before the vessel burns out.

Michael frowns, “Hmm. Too much ‘that’. How disappointing.” He grabs the corpse and drags him over to a pile. All failed attempts bodies piled up with burned-out eyes and blood pouring from it. Looking over the line of people in chains he spins his knife

“Alright. Who’s next?”

In the bunker, Mary and Bobby look over weapons “Who goes to Duluth in October. Sure Michael didn’t touch down in Orlando?” Bobby says check over a handgun

Mary looks over at him “Jo was pretty specific. Duluth.”

Bobby sighs ”Yeah, well, angels ain’t exactly known for their veracity.” Mary clears her throat and looks behind Bobby, as Cas enters “No offense.”

Cas nods ”None taken. I tend to agree with you.” Mary clicks the barrel back in handing it over to Sam who sits with his laptop. “Here you go.”

Sam nods scrolling through the police reports “Thanks” Footsteps cause every to look over at who entered and it was Dean holding a beer

“Hey Dean how are you.” Mary greets him everyone walking on eggshells.

“I’m fine do we have anything.” Dean sits across from Sam taking a sip.

“Uh yeah, so I’ve been searching through police reports in Duluth. Cops just turned up a pile of corpses that was dumped near some train tracks just north of town and their eyes were burnt out.” Sam explains tilting the screen toward everyone else.

“So Michael. We should go now.” Sam glanced over at Cas

“No. This isn’t just Michael we’re talking about.”

“It’s Y/n,” Dean stated

Sam nodded “Yeah. Cas, you know why you can’t come with us, right?”

Cas looked down upset he couldn’t help “My angelic presence would be sensed by Michael, thereby nullifying your hopes of a sneak attack.”

Sam gave him a pity smile “Yeah, sorry.”

“And, you need me to stay here and babysit Nick and Jack.” Cas frowns putting his hands in his coat.

“It’s not babysitting, Cas,” Dean responded sipping his beer.

Cas look over at Dean and frowned “Only in the sense that they’re not infants, but they both have to be supervised. Jack is lost without his grace, Nick is...he’s just a mess.”

“Well, it-it’s not his fault. Cas, Nick was housing, you know. He-he deserves a shot at rebuilding his life.” Sam defended Nick even though he did house Lucifer.

“And yet every time I look at him, all I can see is the supreme agent of evil.” Cas retorted but frowns seeing Jack walk in feeling bad talking about a touchy-subject

“You’re talking about my dad again? Look, I understand. Being around Nick...it’s hard for me, too.” Jack says

Mary comes over placing a hand on his shoulder “Uh, Jack, we’re going to need you to sit this mission out. Not a permanent thing.” Jack nods

“I know last time, I sucked when it mattered, and I need to improve. So...that’s what I’m gonna do.” Sam stands up grabbing his gun

“Alright. Okay.” Sam looks over his family and rests on his brother who nods in return

“Let’s move.” When they arrived at the station they were taking into the morgue where multiple people laid on tables.

“These are just some of the victims. More are in the hall, a couple in a storeroom,” The coroner grimaced “we don’t usually see this kind of action in Duluth.”

Mary glanced over the other bodies “The injuries all pretty uniform?” The Coroner nodded handing Mary over a clipboard

”Yep. The boys upstairs think maybe we’re looking at a spree killer.”

“If they were DOA, you have an ETA on TOD? Any sample DFA?” Bobby questioned, Sam quickly clears his throat, “DNA.”

The woman glanced at him and shook her head. “Uh, frankly we don’t even know the precise cause of death. I mean, there were the neck wounds of course, but there was also considerable internal trauma, so-” her phone goes off “Excuse me.” She gives a smile walking out.

“Yeah. Sure,” Dean nods and looking over at Bobby “DFA.” he smirked

“I’ve been fighting a friggin’ apocalypse for 15 years, my, FBI might be a little rusty.” Bobby countered.

Mary grabbed gloves “Let’s give them a quick once-over, see what they missed.” The brothers and Bobby pulled on gloves as well each going over to a body studying it.

“Angel kills for sure, and not grunts,” Bobby look at the distinctive burned eyes, “We’re talking 5-star smitings.”

“Knife slits in the throat, but it doesn’t appear they bled out.” Dean pointed out leaning the head back pointing to the scar.

“He kept these people alive for a while.” Mary said looking at the others Sam opens the mouth of one of the corpses

“Maybe these people aren’t people. Looking at a vamp.” He presses against the gums fangs popping out.

“Same here.” Bobby said, “Me too.” Mary added.

“Why milk ‘em if he’s just gonna smite ‘em?” Bobby questioned. Dean glance at Sam “And why is an archangel hunting vampires in the first place?”

Sam went over to the Coroner’s office and knocked on the doorframe “Sorry. Excuse me. Um, did anyone come to claim or identify these bodies?”

The women nodded “Oh, yeah. A young lady. Said she heard about the killings on the morning news, thought she might know one of the victims.”

Dean leaned forward “And?”

She shook her head “She didn’t. Then she disappeared, never even gave us her last name.” Sam glances outside to the parking lot

“Huh. Do you happen to have surveillance cameras outside?”

Back at the bunker, Jack is seated at the table in the main hall reading when Cas enters. “Looks like about...two centuries of biblical lore. Light reading.”

Jack looked up at the angel ”I’m researching how long it takes archangel grace to replenish.”

Cas sits next to Jack “Well, archangels being exceedingly rare, the data on that is woefully scant.” Jack points at a section “The books say it can take from a month to-”

“A century,” Cas cuts him off, “Yeah. Complicating factor being your human component, which slows the process,” He pauses, “Jack, um...mourning what you’ve lost...it’s wasteful. Might be smarter to focus on what you still have.”

“You don’t understand what I’m going through.” Jack frowned feeling dejected.

Cas placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder “Yes, I do - a little. At the time of the Great Fall, when angels were banished from heaven, I lost what I thought was everything. I had no grace, I had no wings. I felt hopeless and useless.”

Jack looked up at the man he sees as a father-figure “What did you have left?”

“Well, uh...well, I had Sam, Dean, and Y/n. But I had something else that was extremely helpful. I had myself. Just the basic me, as, uh...as Dean would say, without all the bells and whistles. You know, Sam and Dean, they weren’t born with their expertise. They’ve been at it since they were children. Failing, winning, developing over the years. And Dean had no idea how to raise a kid and Y/n is one of the smartest, bravest, human I have ever met. Patience, persistence - those are skills too. The past, where you come from, that’s important, but it is not as important as the future and where you’re going.” Cas explained thinking of all the times the brothers and he has gone through hell and back and helping Dean raising a child was one of the greatest accomplishments in his time on earth.

In a hotel, Michael looks at himself in the mirror smoothing out the wrinkles in the suit fixing the buttons. His reflection in the mirror changes from Michael to the Winchester daughter

“Get...Out.” She breathed out angrily.

“I don’t think so.” Michael smiles staring back at the girl in the mirror

“You can’t.” She cried

The archangel grins “Oh, but I can. Because see,” Michael punches the mirror, and Y/n is gone he smirks smoothing out his vessel’s hair,

“I own you. So hang on, and enjoy the ride.”

In a cheap apartment in Duluth, a young woman lies in her bed but is interrupted by pounding on the door.

“Yes?” She calls out.

“Lydia Crawford, this is the FBI. Open up.” Sam call out Lydia looks terrified and tries running for the window while Sam keeps pounding on the door

“Open up!” Sam yells again. Dean breaks down the door and rushes in gun drawn with Sam right behind him, with Mary and Bobby following.

“Hey! Stop!” Dean yelled.

“Get away from me!” She cries trying to put as much distance between her and the Winchesters.

“Don’t move. We know who you are. We know you went to the morgue.” Sam threatened his gun pointed at her.

“We saw your license plate on the security cams and pulled your address. You should’ve ditched the car when you first got turned. Made this way too easy.” Bobby commented Lydia look at the four of them

”You’re not FBI. You’re hunters.”

“That’s right.” Dean nodded and begins to pull out a knife

”I haven’t done anything wrong!” Lydia exclaimed.

“No, vampires never do.” Bobby replied sarcastically

“My nest, we - we fed on animal blood,” Sam paused and lowering his gun and Dean lowered the knife, “We lived quiet lives, until...until she came.” Lydia explained still shaken from the incident.

“She? She who?” Sam asked

Lydia shook her head “I don’t know her name, but...she was strong. She tied all of us up and one by one she’d take blood from us. I couldn’t see what she was doing, exactly, but every time there would be this explosion, and my friends would be dead. When she was coming for me, a couple of the others tried to att- tried to attack her. I was able to get away, but...they didn’t make it.” She started tearing up at the memory.

“Why was she killing you? Did she say?” Sam questioned

“I don’t think she meant to. It-it’s just that...things seemed to go wrong. She wasn’t killing, it was like...it was like she was experimenting.” Lydia said

“Experimenting? What for?” Dean asked Lydia frowned

“That’s - that’s all I know.”

“Okay,” Bobby nods grabbing his own blade, and advances to Lydia, “Nice chattin’ with ya.”

Lydia presses herself further into the wall holding her hands up ”Wait! Wait! I-I don’t know what she wanted, I-I don’t know who she was, but I do know where she is. If - if you let me go.” Dean and Sam look at each other having a silent conversation.

The door opens in and in walks Michael and a woman.

“Thank you. Oooh, Very elegant. But then, so are you. I didn’t expect you to be interested in this side of the spectrum.” She giggles

Michael chuckled leading her into the room “Yeah… Thanks for showing me around,” He uncorks some wine and pours them both a glass, “I didn’t realize there was so much going on in...where are we again?”

“Duluth.” She answered taking a sip of her wine.

Michael nodded “Of course. Nothing like where I’m from.”

The woman hummed “What’s it like in your hometown?”

“Hmm. Empty. Windswept. Dead bodies lying around.” Michael shrugged taking a sip of his drink.

She chuckled “You’re so funny. What a nice surprise, meeting you. I bet you were wondering what I was doing, all by myself in that bar tonight.”

Michael smirked “I’m pretty sure I know exactly what you were doing in that bar tonight.”

The woman smiled setting her glass down “Oh, Michael. I am so not that girl.” she walked closer to Michael

“But you really are, aren’t you?” The woman wrapped her arms arounds around her neck

“You’re terrible.” She sighed. His vessel smiled showing off a dazzling smile

“You have no idea.” The woman giggled moving her face closer to the young Winchester and her eyes flash green and her teeth come out ready to bite what should have been an unsuspected victim. Michael grabs her by the throat as his vessel’s eyes glow blue.

“Did you honestly think I didn’t know what you are?” Michael lifts her off the floor choking her as she trashes in his arms, “You think you picked me? I picked you.” Michael throws her across the room and turns over to take a sip of wine and turns back to her still on the floor.

“Now, summon your master.”

Still in Michael’s room he hands a glass to a man seated next to the woman from earlier.

“You first.” The man points to his glass.

“One hundred-year-old cognac. Strong notes of vanilla and apricot,” He takes a sip, “and zero notes of silver.” The man also drinks “I appreciate you accepting my invitation.” Michael crosses one of his knees over the other.

“Yes, well, the ever-tactful Melanie,” he nods over to the woman, “thought a refusal might be unwise. She thinks you’re a god.”

Both of them chuckle “An archangel with a decent vessel. But close.”

The man nods “And I’m the leader of a werewolf pack. Why on earth would an archangel care about us? About me?”

Michael smiles swirling his drink “I admire you. Eating on the run, surviving, despite being stalked by those venal humans, who think of you as nothing but vermin.”

The man leaned forward “My pack has survived and prospered for centuries, despite the humans.”

“Yes, well, I’m new to town, and from my perspective, the real monsters of this world, the ones that cheat, cover, lay waste to this planet, are the humans. Who made them top dog? Pardon the pun.” Michael explained taking a drink of the cognac.

“God, I suppose.” He questioned

“God who? Between us, Phillipe, God’s on permanent vacation. Gone fishing. Demons and angels don’t seem to be much of a factor here, so, I’m in charge.” Michael smiled leaning back in the couch

“And what do you want from me?” The man we know as Phillipe asks.

“You and your kind, you are who you are. You kill, but not for sport, for trophies - to live. There’s a purity in that. Isn’t it time you had your due?” Michael explained waving his hand towards Phillipe.

Phillipe frowned confused “Our due?”

“There are ways to enhance your - let’s call them ‘talents’.” Michael points out.

“And these ways are..” Phillipe waves his hand hoping he would explain.

“Fully tested. There were some misfires early, I will admit to that. But I have cracked the code.” Michael explains clapping his hands together.

“And now what? Do you propose we wage a way on the humans, keeping only as many of them alive as we need for slave labor and a steady food supply?” Phillipe laughs “Because I love that world, but believe me, it’s an absurd dream.”

Michael smirks “Is it? Why be the hunt-'ed’, when you can be the hunt-'er’, hmm?” He smiles watching his plan slowly come together.

After Sam and the others had left with the information on Michael, Lydia rushed around her apartment frantically packing her stuff to leave. The sound of someone appearing and as she turns to grab another handful Michael is sitting at her table.

“Lydia..” Michael singsong. She freezes the items in her hands falling.

“I didn’t!” Lydia defended

“Of course you did.” He laughed at her attempt to lie. “The hunters,” Michael stands up, “Why do you think I dumped your brothers and sisters in plain sight? Why do you think I let you escape?” He points at her watching her face fall.

“You let me escape?” She whimpered

“Rule number one: you can’t have a trap without bait,” He smirks walking past her, “That brings us to rule number two, which says once the trap has been sprung, you don’t need the bait anymore.” Michael’s eyes glow blue and Lydia scream as she is burned out. Her body hits the ground and Michael turns looking at it before leaving.

Back in the bunker Jack turns the corners of one of the halls with Cas following him

“Jack, what were you thinking. Taking that kind of risk?” Cas scolded him

“It wasn’t a risk.” Jack disagreed

“To-to go out there alone?” Cas sputtered “Jack, you have been on the radar of every angel and demon and power broker in creation since the day you were born and I’m sorry, but you’re not exactly yourself.” Cas followed Jack as they entered the war room and Jack turned around

“Weak and defenseless, you mean.” He stated

“I mean that the possibility of capture is real, yes.” Cas explained

“I heard what you were saying, Cas, about me finding out where I came from. I never knew my mother. I thought the next best thing might be for me to meet the only real family that I have left.” Jack confessed

“That is not-” Cas visibly reins in his frustration, “Well, did it help?” Cas sighed and Jack nodded “And you didn’t tell them who you were, did you?” Cas questioned

“Of course not.” Jack deadpanned “I...wanted to. I wanted to tell them I was their grandson. They thought I actually kinda looked like her?” Cas nods in agreement Jack smiles but it fades as he sits against the steps to the library, “I...couldn’t tell them that she died. They just love her so much. I know I should have.”

”What you did you did from a place of kindness. I suppose there are worse ways to be human than to be kind.” Cas reassured the Nephilim sitting across from him

“Have you heard from Sam and Dean? Did they find Michael?” Jack asked

“Yeah, they think so.” He nodded

“So they’re going to try to kill him?” Jack stated Cas shook his head

“Uh, no. No, the plan is to subdue him using angel cuffs and spellwork. They have to get Michael out of Y/n.”

“And if he doesn’t leave?” Jack noted

“Then they’ll try to drive him out.” Cas responded.

“And if that doesn’t work?” Jack said getting upset

“Jack-” Cas started

“Cas, Michael has to be stopped.” Jack cuts him off

“I know, and he will be - after Y/n is-” Cas tries to reason with him

“No, Y/n doesn’t matter” shot Jack, “You’re all so focused on trying to save Y/n and I get it, I understand, but - if she can’t be saved, if it comes down to her or Michael - Michael has to be stopped. Caged, or killed-”

“And if that means that Y/n dies too?” Cas shouts

“Then Y/n dies.” Jack snaps, “I know this Michael. I’ve seen what he’s done to an entire world, and so have you. If stopping that from happening here means that Y/n has to die, then…” Jack and Cas both start at each other, “Do you think she’d want it any other way?” Jack stands up and walks away leaving Cas there with a choice.

Back in Duluth Sam, Dean, Mary, and Bobby enter the abandoned church Lydia told them.

“You think vamp-girl was lyin’ about Michael hanging out here?” Bobby asked looking around the place.

“Not sure why she would. I mean she has every reason to want him dead.” Dean states aiming his flashlight over in some dark corners

“She wasn’t lying about the slaughter happening here,” Mary called out her flashlight pointing to a stain on the floor, “whole lot of dried blood on the floor.”

Sam walked further into the church “Why was he killing them? And what does she mean by ‘experimenting’?” He questioned.

Bobby shrugged “Don’t look like he’s here.” The stained glass windows shatter sending glass flying as werewolves break through them. “Werewolves!” Bobby yells and is then tackled by one.

Sam fires his gun at one coming towards Dean and it has no effect. “Silver bullets aren’t working! Nothing’s working!” He yells.

Dean punches one of the werewolves “Son of a bitch!” Dean yells and is tackled by another and smashed into a bean. Mary is struggling against another as they both fall to the ground. A werewolves tries to go for Sam but he grabs his machete and decapitates one

“Well, that works.” Bobby yells and is punched by a werewolf. Dean pushes the one of him grabbing his machete and chops one of the heads off, Mary stabs the werewolf with one of her knifes but it has no effect and is shoved to the ground. Mary grab the small hatchet and began to chop at the werewolf before is falls to the ground. Bobby is pushed to the ground and before he is attacked Mary throws the hatchet into the werewolf’s back and Bobby decapitates it. Mary hears growling and turns and sees another werewolf but Dean decapitates it just as Sam kills the last one.

“Is everybody okay? Anyone get bit?” Sam pants out

“No.” Mary replies.

“I’m okay.” Bobby answers all of them grouping up again

“What the hell kind of werewolves were those?” Dean asked wiping the blood of his blade.

“Silver didn’t touch them.” Mary added Sam sighed all of them out of breath from these new monsters. A loud bang causes everyone to look towards the door as it opens revealing Michael, backlit in red light.

“Oh god.” Mary breathes out He slowly walks towards them raising his hand. Which she uses to grab a post and staggers into the light breathing heavily removing her cap as she does.

“Dad. It’s me.” You breathe out your voice shaking. Dean stares back at you tearing up. Dean rushes towards you as you knees give out and helps you sit down. Sam is sitting next to you with Dean in front of you.

“Y/n is it really you?” Dean asked looking over you

“Yeah, it’s really me.” You answer your hands are shaking trying to understand what was going on.

“Are-are you okay?” Sam questioned

“No, I’m not okay!” You yelled putting your face in your hands. Dean placed his hand on your knee making you look up at him.

“But you got Michael to leave.” Dean tried to reassure you that everything was ok.

But you shook your head. “No, I-I don’t...I didn’t.” You stated.

“What?” Bobby questioned looking at the younger Winchester.

You look at your dad in fear, “He just - he just left.”

Dean squeezed your hands “Why?”

“I don’t know…” You shuddered, “I don’t know.”

#dean winchester #dean x daughter!reader #michael!reader #x daughter!reader #Sam x niece!reader #castiel x reader platonic #jack x reader platonic #SPN #supernatural #daughter!reader masterlist spn #I'm Sorry Masterlist

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southeastasianhistories · 4 years ago

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It was May, 2012. Inside a gloomy, oak panelled courtroom in the Royal Courts of Justice in London, a group of bewigged British and Malaysian lawyers confronted a legal team from the British Foreign and Commonwealth office in front of a panel of judges. Led by John Halford of the Bindmans law firm and Dato Quek Ngee Meng, the legal team was in court to argue the case for a public enquiry into what they called “a grotesque, on-going injustice” committed decades earlier in British Malaya. This was the period of the ‘Emergency’: a war without a name fought in the Malayan jungles against communist insurgents who wanted an immediate end to British rule.

On the other side of the court sat lawyers for the defendants, the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office. In that rather claustrophobic courtroom, British justice was being asked to make a judgement about history and moral responsibility.

For me as an historian and journalist, it was a highly charged moment. As they spoke, the words of the lawyers seemed to evoke the restless spirits of 24 Chinese workers shot dead in December, 1948 by British soldiers on a plantation close to the Malayan village of Batang Kali.

Just one man was left alive. His name was Chong Hong and he was in his 20s at the time. He had fainted in terror and the British soldiers left him for dead. By 2012, Chong Hong was long dead. But a handful of eye-witnesses remained alive. Loh Ah Choy, just seven when the soldiers rampaged through the plantation; Tham Yong, aged 17. In Court 3 that day in 2012, three of the villagers – now in their late 60s and 70s, who had long ago watched the slaughter of their menfolk – sat apprehensive and rather frail beside their lawyers. I talked briefly to Loh Ah Choy during a break in court proceedings. After so many years, there was still pain in her eyes as she talked about the men who had died.

The ‘Batang Kali massacre’ has sometimes – and not entirely accurately – been called ‘Britain’s My Lai’: referring to a Vietnam War atrocity when ‘Charlie Company’, led by Lt. William Calley, murdered hundreds of unarmed civilians on March 16th, 1968.

Since the killings, successive British governments refused to hold a public enquiry into what had taken place and why the men were killed. At the time, it was claimed that the victims were ‘bandits’. This was baseless. No apology was, it seems, considered by the British. For decades, the relatives of the dead men like Tham Yong and Loh Ah Choy kept their silence. They had been left destitute after the killings – and survival had more meaning to them than a search for justice.

In the end, the legal case failed. The lawyers’ arguments were rejected by the UK Supreme Court in 2015 – but for the British establishment, the Court’s judgement made uncomfortable reading. For Lord Kerr, one of the court’s justices said the “overwhelming preponderance of currently available evidence” showed “wholly innocent men were mercilessly murdered and the failure of the authorities of this state to conduct an effective inquiry into their deaths.” The problem for the Court was time. The killings may have been unlawful, Lord Neuberger concluded, but they occurred more than 10 years before the critical date when the right of petition to the Strasbourg court of human rights was recognised by the UK and created a duty to investigate.

The lawyers generated a great deal of new historically valuable information – not only about what happened in Batang Kali, but about how and why a ‘very British cover up’ was maintained for so long.It was thanks to the efforts of the legal teams that we now know what happened on that day in British Malaya. There is now no dispute that on December 11th, 1948 a 14-man patrol from the 7th Platoon, G Company, 2nd Battalion Scots Guards, led by two lance-sergeants, Charles Douglas and Thomas Hughes, entered Batang Kali where they encountered 50 or so unarmed villagers.

The tiny settlement was part of the Sungei Remok rubber estate in the state of Selangor, which at the time was a British protectorate. By the time the platoon left the village the following day, 24 men had been shot dead. The first report of the killings in the Singapore-based Straits Times sounded a shrill note of triumph: ‘Police, Bandits kill 28 [sic] bandits in day … Biggest Success for Forces since Emergency Started’. It would not take long for the official story to unravel. ‘Good news’ like the Batang Kali operation was in short supply at the end of the first year of the Emergency. The roots of the conflict go back to the Japanese occupation of Malaya and Singapore, which began in February 1942. The traumatic loss of Singapore to a grossly underrated Asian foe shamed and humiliated the British and led many Asians to reassess their former masters.

In the first months of the occupation the Japanese slaughtered many thousands of Chinese civilians in Singapore and across Malaya. Japan had been waging a brutal war in mainland China since 1937 and alleged that the Chinese in Malaya were a security risk. Many young Chinese fled into the dense Malayan jungle, where they began to organise guerrilla units to fight back against the Japanese. The Malayan People’s Anti-Japanese Army (MPAJA) was dominated by the Malayan Communist Party (MCP) and by the end of the war was backed by the British ‘Force 136’, a branch of the Special Operations Executive. After the Japanese surrender in 1945 the British honoured the MPAJA , awarding its future leader Chin Peng an OBE.

As India moved towards independence the chronically indebted postwar British government clung onto Malaya, with its valuable tin and rubber resources. Although the returning colonial power signalled that independence was on the agenda, it seemed to both a new generation of Malay nationalists and the Communists that it was ‘colonial business as usual’.

This was intolerable. The MPAJA now became the vanguard of anti-British resistance, as the Malayan National Liberation Army (MNLA), turning their British-supplied guns on the returned colonial authorities. The MNLA was backed by a secret army of supporters known as the Min Yuen (People’s Movement). MNLA fighters depended on the Min Yuen and Chinese villagers, willing or unwilling, for essential supplies. This was the background to the events that unfolded in December 1948. It explains why, to begin with, the British could claim that shooting Chinese civilians on a rubber plantation was a ‘success’: in the eyes of British troops, any Chinese-Malayan villager might be a ‘bandit’ – and so ‘fair game’.

The ‘successful operation’ story crumbled rapidly. A few of the surviving villagers told their story to Li Chen, the Chinese consul-general, who held a press conference on December 21st. The following day the British owner of the Sungei Remok Estate, Thomas Menzies, who had serious clout in the British estate-owners’ community and was dismayed by the loss of 24 workers, publicly stated that his men had a long record of good conduct. By December 24th the Straits Times was calling for a public enquiry.

At the end of January the British Communist MP Philip Piratin demanded that Arthur Creech-Jones, the colonial secretary, explain the actions of the Scots Guards. Creech-Jones replied that an “enquiry by the civil authorities” had concluded that “had the security forces not opened fire, the suspect Chinese would have made good an escape, which had obviously been pre-arranged”. Creech-Jones’ ‘enquiry’ into a “necessary but nasty operation” quashed the debate about the killing.

But then there was an unexpected turn of events. In December 1969, a former National Serviceman called William Cootes confessed his role in the killings to a journalist from the People, then a British Sunday newspaper. Cootes said he was motivated by the furore unleashed by US journalist Seymour Hersh’s revelations about the My Lai massacre the previous year. The scandal provoked a debate about whether British troops would have been capable of committing such an atrocity. Public opinion resisted such slurs, but Cootes knew better. He had been one of the 14 Scots Guardsmen who had entered Batang Kali.

Cootes claimed that his commanding officer, George Ramsay, had briefed his men that they were going to a village and would “wipe out anybody they found there.” Other former members of the platoon also came forward and backed up Cootes’ allegations. Alan Tuppen testified that: “He [Ramsay] said we were to go out on patrol and that our objective would be to wipe out a particular village and everyone in it because, he said, they were either terrorists themselves or were helping terrorists in that area.”

Tuppen provided shocking new detail about the killings: “Instinctively, we started firing … at the villagers in front of us. The villagers began to fall. One man with bullets in him kept crawling … He was finally killed when a bullet went through his head.” Yet another former guardsman, Victor Remedios, testified that after the platoon returned to base “we were told by a sergeant that if anyone said anything we could get 14 or 15 years in prison.” No one had been shot trying to escape.

In the aftermath of the People story and the media storm that had followed on February 13th, 1970 Denis Healey, the secretary of state for defence, referred the matter to the director of public prosecutions (DPP). At the end of the month, DPP lawyers recommended further enquiries to be conducted by the Metropolitan Police – much to the dismay, as we learnt in court, of the Foreign Office.

All the former members of the Scots Guards platoon who had testified to the People were interviewed again under caution. Plans were made for the British police team to fly to Kuala Lumpur to continue with their enquiries. Then on June 18th, 1970 the Labour government was ousted by the Conservatives – and just weeks later the Batang Kali enquiry was stopped with a view “to uphold the good name of the army.”

The long battle for a public enquiry after determined efforts by the survivors’ legal team collapsed. This legal battle is unlikely to be joined again. Nevertheless, the UK Supreme Court was minded that the killings were unlawful and that “wholly innocent men were mercilessly murdered”. There was another disappointment for historians. When the UK National Archives announced a release of secret colonial papers in 2012, many of us rushed to Kew hoping that some of the reports made just after the killings had survived. There was bad news: it turned out that when the British pulled out of Malaya in 1957, any incriminating evidence about the events of December, 1948 had been destroyed.

For historians of the British Empire and the traumatic process of decolonisation that followed the Second World War, the discovery of new information about the tragedy that unfolded in Batang Kali casts new light on the longest war fought by British troops in the 20th Century, the Malayan Emergency – and the counter- insurgency techniques developed in Southeast Asia that influenced American strategy in Vietnam and impact bitterly contested campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan today.

#british colonisation #malaysia #malaya #batang kali massacre #malayan emergency #1940s

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writings-of-a-daphodil · 4 years ago

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Fire Keeper: Chapter 19.5

Douxie x fem reader

Masterlist in Bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures.

Chapter 19.5 summary: Archie and Lake are back and they are ready to find whoever Morgana sent to kill Arthur.

A/n: It’s finally here and it’s a lot longer than normal half chapters, so yeah, enjoy!!

“Good morning beautiful!” Douxie greeted. You looked up from your book and smiled at him. He was balancing a breakfast tray in one hand and opening the door with the other. A cup was awful close to falling off, so you sent a little magic it’s way to keep it in place.

“Hey.” He set the tray down in front of you. “Thanks for the food.”

“Of course, I know Merlin kinda put you on home arrest while he sees if Arthur remembers you committing treason.”

You laughed. “If somebody had told me a year ago that I would have been stuck in twelfth century Camelot with my wizard boyfriend, and that I had committed treason to save my half-troll brother then I would have thought they were crazy.” You looked to Douxie to see how he would react to you calling him your boyfriend and you saw a smile light up his face.

“It’s been a wild year.”

“Indeed it has.”

It had technically only been a few hours since Douxie kissed you and you were very happy with how everything had turned out.

You ate together, chatting like you hadn’t a care in the world. It was so nice to relax. Ever since you had fallen through the portal it had been pretty much nonstop action.

Unfortunately Douxie had to leave, but he had promised you a date later. You didn’t know what Camelot had to offer in way of dates, but you were sure you’d enjoy anything you and Douxie did together.

Eventually you got bored of just reading in the room and you decided to go see if Merlin needed your help.

“I swear, Morgana's not dead!” You heard Claire yell from inside Merlin’s tower. You wondered what all of that was about.

“Rubbish,” Merlin responded as you walked into the room.

“It's true, Master. She saw her in the Shadow Realm, which is great for saving history,” Douxie pointed out.

“But she's coming to attack the kingdom any second!” Claire reminded.

Douxie sighed. “Which is less great.”

“We are all in grave danger,” Archie said, trying to reason with Merlin. You walked up to Douxie and took his hand.

“And what were you doing in the Shadow Realm, hmm? Its dark mirrors trick you, sozzle your mind. Morgana is dead, and no magic can change that. I haven't time to chase ghosts. We have more immediate threats.”

Claire scowled. “Morgana is a threat!”

“Listen well, girl. Even if she had cheated death, we don't stand a chance if Gunmar attacks before I finish the amulet,” Merlin explained.

You jumped a bit as Past Douxie came in. “I've got everything, Master. Amulet designs, alloys for the heart, and my lute for some background music.”

Douxie looked at the supplies. “You're working on getting us back home?”

Merlin gave a small smile. “Of course. The heart is the only way to get the lot of you out of my hair.”

“Not that he has much left,” Archie muttered and you laughed.

Merlin frowned at the both of you. “I heard that.”

“Master, Claire's onto something,” Douxie said.

Claire scowled. “I know you think we're a bunch of dumb teens, but we have to defend Camelot from disaster.”

Merlin raised his arm, waving it. “Silence!” He ordered and green gags appeared on Douxie and Claire's mouths. You kept your own shut to avoid a similar fate.

Archie chuckled. “Wizard got your tongues?”

Merlin sighed. “If you truly believe the kingdom's in danger, then go protect it...outside. I've an amulet to finish.”

You sighed, and led the way out of the room towards the training grounds. In the distance Arthur got up and addressed the crowd. “Good people of Camelot, we've suffered many hardships. Our enemies claim that I am broken. But I have overcome. Behold the light of Excalibur reborn!”

Douxie grunted, trying his best to get the gag off, but failing, you laughed at his attempt and he frowned at you.

Claire coughed as her gag glowed blue and faded off. “No sign of Morgana anywhere.”

Douxie coughed, his own gag disappearing. “Nothing but unwashed plebeians stuffing their faces, eh, Steve?”

You looked around for Steve and saw him trying to buy food.

“The monsters at our door will fall. To ready our hearts for the battle ahead, I host a private tournament. The winner shall stand at my side...and have the honor of striking down the monster, Bular the Butcher.”

You turned your attention back to Douxie. “We know Arthur is the main target. I'll draw stasis traps around the perimeter, put up defensive wards-“ Douxie stopped mid explanation to shove a muffin in his mouth. “Mm! I forgot how good these tasted. The ones in the future aren't the same.”

You reached for one, but quickly withdrew your hand as Steve spit out some weird white thing that had been in his. You gaged a bit.

Claire sighed. “Guys, this is Morgana we're talking about. We can't just wait for her to slice our throats.”

“Why not?” Steve asked and you gave him a look. What kind of question was that?

“She'll find a way in,” Claire said.

“Well then, it’s time to do some detective work. Archie and Lake is back in business!” You exclaimed, pumping your fist.

“Archie and Lake?” Archie questioned.

“You’ll understand in about nine hundred years, but for now, we have an assassin to find.”

You were cut off from saying anything as Douxie and Steve jumped, the former latching onto your hand as a child spoke. “Yeah! I, noble King Arthur, will strike down the terrible trolls!” The boy swung his play sword around ‘threateningly’ at Bular.

“I will protect you, troll! I am Morgana, the evil witch! Shadow bolt! Shadow bolt!” A girl dressed as Morgana responded.

“You betray me, the noble king? Die, sister! Die!” The fake Arthur cried.

You watched as the real King Arthur stood and cleared his throat. “That's enough!”

There was a moment of silence as Bular roared at the children who ran off. Arthur sighed and sat down. “I crave a true battle. Let the tournament continue.”

Archie flew and did a lap around the arena. “No sign of any sorceresses. Then again, all you humans do look alike.”

Claire glowered. “She is crafty. She'll try to infiltrate the tournament. We have to go on the offensive, root the witch out!”

Douxie nodded. “You do that, and we'll secure the castle.”

“Douxie, wait! What about Steve?” Archie asked, but Douxie didn’t hear him.

You gave one last slightly concerned look before you and Archie went off in search of the assassin. The familier was incredibly helpful in this, seeing as he knew Camelot well and could identify any discrepancies.

However, there didn’t seem to be any discrepancies, there were no odd auras or anything anywhere. You made your way from the heart of Camelot outwards, but if there was someone helping Morgana, the two of you must have missed them.

You were walking the last stretch of the castle wall losing hope as you chatted with Archie.

“You’ll have to help me in the future with Mao,” you were saying.

Archie hummed. “I look forward to it.”

You walked over to the edge of the wall, stumbling a bit. You caught yourself on the rail, but when you leaned over the edge you noticed some odd bags that had been dumped over the edges. You had walked past the town dump earlier so these weren’t trash bags and for a twelfth century kingdom Camelot wasn’t that dirty.

“Hey Arch?”

“Yes?”

“Do these bags look suspicious to you?” Archie came over and flew past you. He landed beside one of the bags and after a second he looked up to you.

“Y/n you need to see this.”

You leapt off the wall and floated down towards Archie. “What’s in it?”

“I don’t know, but it’s war-Y/n! Don't!” Archie warned, but by then you had already stuck your hand in the bag. You yelped, yanking your hand out of the bag hissing and jumping in pain. Your hand was burned. It felt like you had put it in a bag of fire.

“Owwww!” You cried, yelping out as you tried to heal yourself?

“The bag is warded,” Archie explained, a slightly guilty look on his face.

“Ah, well then. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” you said, gritting your teeth against the slowly fading pain.

Archie sighed. “You and Douxie really are perfect for each other. A few weeks before you arrived Merlin brought in a warded bag and Douxie did exactly what you did.”

“So, is this one of Merlin’s?” You asked, smiling at the imagery of Douxie doing exactly what you did.

“No, Merlin only had the one and he took the ward off.”

“Oh, we better go tell Douxie about this then, maybe he’ll have an idea,” you suggested.

~~~~

“And there! The king's chambers and Merlin's tower, completely warded. No evil sorceress is getting in now, eh, Arch? Y/n?” Douxie asked as you walked over to him. The walls and floors near him were covered in glowing blue wards.

“Oh, you've done it, all right. Overdone it,” Archie said as one of the squires got trapped. Douxie helped him out while you got the squire’s bag.

“Well, at least the castle's safe,” Douxie stated optimistically. You went to see what was in the squire's awfully heavy bag, but before you could he snatched it away from you and took off.

You frowned. “About that-“

“Oy, the king summons you! Come with me at once! Galahad yelled.

“What-?” Douxie trailed off, yelping as Galahad pulled him.

“I think I have a theory, meet me back here when you’re done?” You suggested and Archie nodded, flying off after Douxie.

Now you had to test that theory. You ran back towards the bags that you and Archie had found. You examined it and you knew it was the same as the bag that the squire had been so protective of it. His suspicions behavior encouraged you to investigate what was inside the bags, against your better judgement.

This time you wrapped your thin tulle sweater around your hand and reached into the bag, opening it. You hissed as you still felt the burning even threw the fabric. You whimpered, biting down through the pain.

You eventually managed to get the bag open and saw that there were dwarkstones nestled inside, a.k.a troll bombs. Blinky had an odd affinity for them and you knew the damage one could cause. Who knew how much damage this many would do.

You stood up and raced back to the place you said you would meet Archie in. As you made your way through the town, you tore your sweater off your hand. The results were not pretty, your hand was burned badly by the wards.

You would take care of those later, right now you had an assassin to stop. “Arch!” You called, slightly breathless.

He flew towards you. “Y/n! What’s wrong?”

“I know who did it, it’s that squire who Douxie accidentally trapped earlier.”

“Then we need to find him.” Archie shape shifted into a dragon and leapt into the air. You followed him through the town where he eventually led you to the arena.

“The witch is disqualified!” You heard Galahad yell as you ran towards Arthur. You watched in horror as the squire snuck up from behind and got ready to stab Arthur.

The king didn’t notice, focusing on Claire. “You both fight with no honor! Begone!”

“Hail Morgana!” The changeling yelled. He raised his knife and just in time you got there, tackling the would-be assassin off of Arthur’s balcony. It wasn’t going to be that big of a fall, but as the changeling adjusted his knife to stab you, you knew you wouldn’t make it to the ground.

“No!” Claire cried.

“Claire! Portal!” You yelped, but Claire was already ahead of you. You felt yourself enter the shadow realm and a second later you were out. The changeling crashed onto a piece of wood while you were safely delivered to your friends sides.

“A changeling? Protect the king!” Douxie ordered, running to check on you.

“Are you alright, love?” Douxie asked, helping you up.

“I’ve been better,” you said, watching as Bular was set free. Of course him being free was good for history, but it wasn’t good for Arthur.

Douxie rushed to shield the king from Bular’s attack. You couldn’t help but feel proud to call him your boyfriend. He cried out as Bular punched the shield and you got off the ground to help him.

Orange and blue swirled together as Bular punched the shield again, sending you, Arthur, and Douxie rolling out of the arena. You crashed into a fountain, and you didn’t have a second to rest before Bular came at you again. You and Douxie got ready to shield Arthur, but Bular swatted you and Douxie to the side. You felt Douxie’s arm wrap around you, protecting you from the impact.

Bular and Arthur fought and as knights ran up to defend the king, you summoned your own sword. “You’ll die in Camelot, Bucher!” Arthur threatened and Bular roared.

The ground rattled and you yelped as explosions rang out. A wave of guilt washed over you, you wished you had been unable to stop the dwarkstones from destroying Camelot.

With yours and the knights’ distraction, Bular took his opportunity to escape. You didn't bother going after him, knowing that it was better for history if he was free.

You heard the swishing of blades and snapped around to see one of Douxie’s blue shields keeping Arthur safe from the changeling’s sneak attack.

“Stay back!” Douxie yelled.

Morgana's changeling laughed, triggering more explosions. “Fools! I've already won.”

You expected to see more flames, fueled by the gentle breeze, but instead of dozens of devastating explosions, shields of Douxie’s blue magic contained them, blooming up all over Camelot.

“Merlin's tower!” Douxie said, realizing that his wards had in fact helped.

“Good call with those defenses, Doux!” Claire congratulated and you smiled at him.

“Yeah, but they won't last long,” Douxie pointed out.

Archie gasped. “Oh, no! Douxie!”

Douxie turned to him. “What?”

Archie sighed. “The other Douxie! With the man bun, in the tower?”

“Oh, fuzz buckets!” You, Claire, Douxie, and Archie ran off to the tower, trusting the knights to defend Arthur. You couldn’t let Douxie die. That would seriously mess up history.

You raced to the tower, watching as Douxie’s wards were barely able to contain the dwarkstone explosions. You didn't hesitate to run into the towers though. You had to save Past Douxie and Merlin.

“We have to go!” Your Douxie called, bursting into the tower.

“But I'm in the middle of creating-“ Merlin was cut off by his windows bursting. He stumbled towards the middle of the room. “Dworkstone? We need a way out.”

“Already ahead of you,” Claire said, creating a portal. You jumped in and immediately fell out right by Arthur. You winced as Past Douxie didn’t get as lucky a landing as you.

“Camelot is closed, Morgana,” Claire said as Douxie trapped the changeling in chains. Steve ran at him with his axe, bashing him backwards. You scowled as the changeling broke free.

Claire was on it though, using a portal to send him right back to you. He crashed to the ground and Douxie raised his hands. You mimicked him, using your magic to contain the changeling. Beams of green, blue, and orange swirled together to create a trap. The changeling fought, but suddenly fire swirled up, obliterating him.

You smiled at Douxie as Merlin silently congratulated him. You rushed over to hug him immediately after.

“You did great,” you cheered.

“We both did,” Douxie said, kissing you. You broke away and watched as Steve was declared an official knight. He may not have been the best fighter, but he was brave when it counted and smart even. You knew he deserved it.

However, the celebration was over in mere seconds when Merlin spoke, “Camelot's defenses are destroyed... her best knights injured or dead.”

You looked around and saw the area where you were was almost completely blown apart and there were fires all around Camelot. You were only shook out of your trance by Past Douxie.

“Oh, my everything hurts!” He groaned, collapsing. “I think I'm gonna stay in here a bit longer.”

You winced, going over to heal him. It was honestly really entertaining to actually meet Douxie’s younger self and to see how dorky and goofy Douxie had been, not that much had changed. You recalled when you had first gone to the book shop and Douxie had panicked when you noticed Archie was wearing glasses, putting them on and claiming they were his. You smiled at the memory.

Merlin coughed, drawing your attention back to him and the devastation. “We need allies in the war to come.”

Arthur sighed, looking defeated. “Our enemies are many, but how will we face them alone? I am a king with half an army.”

Claire looked at you and Douxie. “Jim,” she suggested.

Douxie grinned and you nodded enthusiastically. “Right. Then we go to the good trolls,” Douxie announced.

****

Voila! I really hope y’all liked it and are excited for more. I can't believe we only have two more chapters! I'll continue the series once the movie comes out, but once chapter 21 comes out it'll be on pause. Anyways, thank you all so much for all the kind comments and I hope you have a fantastically safe and wonderful day!!

P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

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