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#I am tormented by 'believe' no longer looking like a real word to me now
oleander-nin · 7 months
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Horrotober Day 14- Stockholm(Yandere 2012 Donnie x Reader)
A/N, not important: Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
-Ollie
CW: Kidnapping, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, blood, broken nose, implied death, battery, dark themes, yandere themes
Words: 1404
Summary: April tries to save you just a little too late
You sit in silence on the lab table Donnie left you on, swinging your legs back and forth over the floor. Your eyes were glassy, a thousand yard stare overtaking the once intelligent look you carried. You looked vacant, like you had been stripped down of your old personality. April watches you from behind the door, frowning. It hurts to see you like this, to see you so broken. She could barely remember the last time you had an independent thought, couldn’t remember the last time you smiled over something that wasn’t related to Donnie.
Sure, your smiles seemed real, but they were all child-like. Wide and forced, with teeth showing while you laughed. Not how you used to smile at all. You had forgotten so much of yourself, and April was tired of seeing you wither away. Donnie’s brothers obviously weren’t going to help, so it was up to her alone. The ginger breathes in and out, trying to gain some nerve. She knew Donnie was probably watching you through some camera, but she didn’t care. She refuses to let her friend be hurt any longer.
April walks into the lab, making a beeline towards you. She stops in front of you, waiting patiently and worriedly for your eyes to drift over to hers. A lump is stuck in her throat as she takes you in, Your face sunken in and doll-like from the years of torment Donnie had put you through.
“Hello April.” You greet softly, your voice airy. She sucks in a sharp breath at the sound, tears gathering in her eyes. She couldn’t believe this was what you sounded like now, so small and diminished. You were so confident before Donnie’s obsession changed to target you. April couldn’t help but feel at fault.
“Hi (Y/n). Where’s Donnie?” She tries to keep her voice even and soft, not wanting to scare you or make you feel uneasy. She wanted to make sure you trusted her. Trying to save you would not be easy if you found her threatening.
You shake your head at the question, your eyes already drifting to look at the walls behind her. Your focus was even worse than before, and your eyes were dull. It was like you couldn’t even see her anymore, like you were drifting through the world in a void that only kept you and Donnie in its clutches. It made her sick. April lets herself calm down, nodding slowly as she grabs your hand. She doesn’t miss how your eyes immediately snap over to the touch, your body shaking slightly.
Your hands were freezing despite the warm clothing you wore. The lab wasn’t all that chilly either, so April couldn’t understand why you felt like frost. April shakes her head. It wasn’t important. She could help get you back to health later, after she had gotten you away from Donnie. He was bad for you, and it was like April was the only one who could see it. Even Casey stopped caring once you seemed to reciprocate Donnie’s affection, the mutant's eyes filled with smug satisfaction.
“I’m going to get you out of here.” She mumbles, squeezing your hand in hopes to bring some warmth to the skin. It was tragic to see you like this. She couldn’t help but compare you to a corpse in her mind, something that had been dead for a long time. “I know, I should have helped sooner, but Donnie… He tricked us all. I'm so, so sorry.”
You don’t react to her, still sitting numbly on the table with your legs swinging back and forth. You pull your hand back, moving the cold limb to the inside of your sweatshirt’s pocket. “I don’t want to go.”
April stares at you in slight shock and wonder, her face crumbling into a look of pity. “Oh… Oh honey. I really am too late. Well, that’s fine. I’m not leaving without you. My dad’s a scientist, he can help. You’re going to be okay.”
She doesn’t take notice of the frown that pulls your lips, your face stretching into a more unnatural look for you as of late. April tugs lightly at your sweatshirt, trying to get you to come off the table. You may be smaller than you once were, but April wasn’t positive she could carry you. She needed you to walk. You don’t move despite her tugging, your legs no longer swinging as they try to clamp to the table your hands holding back.
“No! No, I’m not going!”
You push April back, your eyes cloudy and dark. April takes a step back, surprised. She didn’t think you were able to react at all anymore. She hovers just a few feet away, unsure how to move forward. She needed you to understand she was helping. She needed to get you out.
“(Y/n), I know it’s scary,” She starts, her voice gentle and smooth like she was talking to a wild animal. Maybe that’s what you were now. Something skittish and feral, only responding to your owners whims. “But you have to come with me. I’m going to get you out of here.”
April reaches out and tugs on your clothes again in an attempt to pull you down from the table, but you just simply push her back again. You look distraught, your face puffy while you start to kick and thrash whenever she comes near. It was annoying, but manageable. All April had to do was dodge your flying limbs. She shoots her hand out and grabs you by the collar, tugging you down from the table in short succession. You fall off and stumble forward, catching yourself enough to keep yourself from falling. 
April looks pleased, her face smug as she nods. She doesn’t see how blank your face was or the way your hands shook. She doesn’t care about the swirling fear and anger in your eyes. She never noticed how upset you were until you opened your mouth, and screamed.
Immediately, April starts to panic. She moves closer to you and tries to cover your mouth, hushing you and trying to get you to stop. It only makes you scream louder, your voice making its way through the lair and alerting every occupant. The door to the lab opens, and in comes a panicked Donnie. He assesses the situation in seconds, his eyes dark as he rushes over to you and shoves April to the side. He scoops you up into his arms with ease, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist as your arms loop behind his neck.
“What are you doing?” He hisses at April, taking a step towards her. The red-haired girl stutters as she steps back, trying her best not to trip over anything. He stalks towards her, forcing her deeper into the lab before her back hits the wall. Donnie stands over her, his red eyes covered in full white as he looks down at her. April shrinks back, patting her pockets for her Tessen. 
Her heart drops as she realizes she can’t find it, her stance slowly changing into one for fighting. She was unbalanced and unsure, not at all prepared to fight. Donnie snorts at the poor form, shifting you in his arms. April ducks at the punch Donnie throws, realizing a second to late it was a feint before Donnie’s knee crashes right into her nose. She crumples over, a gargled scream coming from her lips as blood pours down her face from her smashed nose. Tears spring in her eyes, the pain from her broken face making her sob. She didn’t even notice when Donnie brought his foot down on her head, her vision quickly going black.
Donnie steps back, adjusting you to fit in his arms better. He walks backwards to his room, not wanting you to see the mess he made on his lab floor. He grimaces, knowing he’d have to clean it up later. It was a miracle his brothers were out still.
“Thank you, love.” He mutters, kissing your temple as he crosses the threshold of his dim room. You mumble something he can’t quite understand, but Donnie brushes it off. You had done what you were supposed to, and he was forever thankful. He leaves you on the bed, making sure you are comfortable before heading to the supply room. He had a mess to clean.
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morganafata · 1 year
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God, you know what I want to see? Louis loving Armand in the most spiteful way possible.
Lestat rolls up to their tower, ready to start his Homewrecker Era, thinking all he needs to do is lovebomb the life out of Louis to get him back and Louis just stonewalling him while lowkey reminding Lestat of all the ways he failed as a bf.
"I can never betray Armand, because loyalty means something to me (unlike some people)
"Armand has never judged me or thought less of me for refusing to kill. Instead he supports me in spite of it."
"Armand is the only person who has made me feel like I am enough. With him, I am finally seen."
Then Armand joins in and says shit like "How passionately you declare your love at the drop of a hat...of course I would expect no less from a former actor of your caliber. You must be so used to saying it by now, the words have just....lost all meaning at this point" followed by the most cuntiest passive aggressive smile ever.
He also rubs it in that he and Louis have been together longer, and were far more peaceful compared to the tempest that was Louis and Lestat's 29 years.
Bonus points, if it's not simply because he wants to torment Lestat. Maybe the love is real to some extent. Like at some point, Armand gets up cuz he's tired of watching Lestat and Louis playing the "who's winning this break-up game" and he's feeling vulnerable because fucking Lestat "dick is better than black tar heroin" de Lioncourt is in his house and once again, he's the center of Louis de Point Du Lac's world.
So Louis goes to him, cuz he knows what it's like to get cucked time and again for the sake of love and in a quiet moment just for them, Louis says "You know I'm yours, right? You know I love you."
And Armand says, slightly bitter: "Yes...I know. I also know that love alone isn't enough to bind two people forever."
And Louis says: "It’s not like that with us. What we have is special (read: safer).”
"It wasn't enough for you.... or him."
And Armand sounds so hurt and lost and tired, that it’s like looking in a mirror of himself from more than a century ago. So Louis tells him what he wants to hear, what he’s told himself so often that it feels like the bitter truth.
"That's because nothing was ever enough for Lestat. He had to have everything, do everything. I was never going to be what he wanted because he always wanted more. The world itself wouldn’t have been enough for Lestat.....and I just wanted a home," Louis says, trying to will himself to believe it, trying to forget all the times Lestat made him laugh, or brought back books as gifts or how they cuddled together in their coffin or danced in their home.
All the times Lestat felt like home to him because of course, none of it was real; it had to have been just another one of his elaborate lies. All of a sudden, teasing Lestat doesn't feel fun or justified anymore, just a hollow triumph, an admission of defeat. A mockery of the joyful moments they spent together, however fleeting those moments were.
And then Armand says, soft and with the quiet air of a man who has been dealt a losing hand: “I love you with my entire heart. Please tell me that’s enough.”
Aren’t I enough?
Louis can still hear Lestat’s mad, mocking laugh echoing in his mind, feel his heart wither in his chest as though it were yesterday. And he knows he could never put Armand, his savior, his protector, his redemption, through the same sort of agony. He owes him too much.
“I love you too.” He’s getting so much better at saying it.
He can only pray like hell that for once love will be enough.
And of course, Lestat is probably listening right around the corner, heart breaking, dying inside and blood gushing from his eyes because- he didn’t want the world. He just wanted to hear Louis say “I love you too.”
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goatsandgangsters · 3 years
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If what you are is just what you own, what have you become when they take from you almost everything?
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tartglias · 3 years
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Xiao, Zhongli and Venti with an immortal s/o
“Sooo 👀 can i request so some fluff hc for venti, xiao and zhongli with an immortal s/o?”
thank you so much for requesting!! this is my first time writing for more than one character at a time so it was a challenge lol thank you sm!!
Xiao
Xiao never understood the importance of time. Days, months, even years feel like nothing when you’re immortal. What a funny thing that is, immortality. He knows normal humans would do anything for it, and he despises them for that. Nothing so great came free, he knew that well. He was freed from tortures, only to get tormented by karma. He could still hear the voices and screams calling for help from tortured souls, these still haunt him daily. But the worst moments come when he sees that figure, that person who he once considered close. So close he could use the human word “soulmate”, if he believed in those, to describe who that person meant to him.
Many centuries back he met you, such a gentle person who got to break down his hard walls. A smile, a touch, a kiss. That’s all it took. So many meaningless years, and he never once encountered a person as kind yet strong like you. Someone who made the daily nightmares cease, with a simple smile and brush of fingers.
He remembers your last words like it was the day before. You were on top of one of the tall stones in Huaguang Stone Forest, Xiao laying his head on your lap and you placing small qingxin flowers on his hair. He wouldn’t allow anyone do that to him ever, but in the end, you were you. And you were different.
“Xiao” you called, once you were done placing the flowers. He opened his eyes and muttered a “hm?” in response. “I have to leave soon. Mondstadt calls me”
He sat up.
“What do you mean?”
“By tomorrow morning, I’ll be on my way back to Mondstadt” you said, quietly standing up.
He stood up too.
“When will I see you again?” he asked, now not being able to look at you.
“I don’t know” you said, reaching out for his hand and taking it. You placed a soft kiss on his knuckles, and he felt himself calm down at the gesture for a moment.
“I meant it when I said I’ll love you forever, Xiao” you said, finally locking eyes with him. You had teary eyes, he dreaded to see you like that. If it were up to him, he would swallow every bit of pain in your body and soul, just to see you smile.
And with that, you disappeared. As quickly as you broke down his walls, you disappeared just as quick the next day. Days, months and years became even more meaningless, but somehow he felt them longer. He missed you every day, he whispered to the moon every night, wishing that some archon would hear and bring you back to him. He knew you were like him, but he never heard from you again. Were you able to finally cross to the other side? He tried to erase those thoughts from his mind.
He later found himself in that very same stone, the one in which he last saw you. New Qingxin flowers blossomed, and they reminded him of you. He sat down, staring at the horizon. But then, he felt a strange swift of wind, and a presence behind him. He quickly stood up, ready to put his mask on and kill whoever dared to interrupt his solitude. But he didn’t. The mask in his hand dropped to the floor, next to the flowers.
“I’m back” you said, with a shy smile.
“You’re back” he said, more to himself than to you. Were you really there?
His question was soon answered, once you stepped closer and pulled him in a hug. He found himself wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as he could, while trying to hold back his tears.
“I’m sorry I took so long, my beloved” you said as you locked your eyes with his. You grabbed his hand and held it, but you never once let go of the hug.
“I’m here to stay now” you whispered.
Zhongli
“You need to stop playing with people’s hearts” Zhongli said, as he sipped on his tea and looked at you questioningly. You rolled your eyes in response and put your focus back on your potion. A few petals from the most exotic flower in Teyvat, a little bit of juice made from vines and a teaspoon of slime condensate.
“Sometimes mortals need a little push in the right direction” You said, finishing up the mix and transferring it to a small bottle made of glass. “Plus, we’ve been here for centuries, I’m bored and I need a hobby”
“I don’t think that messing with human’s love lives can be considered a hobby. I don’t think it’s morally correct” he said.
“You’re very dramatic. I can feel the true desires of every being that touches the soil in Teyvat, and if I sense that the desire is mutual, I simply work my magic” You said, sitting back on your chair next to the tall man.
“Can’t you let them figure it out by themselves?” He asked.
“That’s no fun Zhongli” You said, finishing up the sweet perfume-potion you were creating.
You and Zhongli have been friends for centuries. You met when you moved to Liyue as the representative of the Dendro Archon, someone you really looked up to. Zhongli was kind enough to make you feel at home, and soon became friends with the Geo Archon. Though you must admit, you always wished it was something more.
Maybe that’s why you picked up this “hobby” of yours. Unrequited love is something painful and mortals only live a short life, you believe they should live it fully, if possible.
“Are you alright?” Zhongli asked, interrupting your thoughts with a concerned look on his face. You didn’t realize you had a sad look on yours.
“Oh? Yeah of course” You said, quickly brushing it off and proceeding decorating the small glass bottle.
“Y/n-“ he started, placing a hand on top of yours in order to get your attention. “I’ve known you for a long time. I know when something is wrong”
It was funny. He knew you like the back of his hand, he knew how to read you since the first time he laid his eyes on you. Yet he never found out how you truly felt about him, how your heart made like a million flips whenever he did something as simple as hold your hand, or brush a hair away from your face. All these little things and gestures, have been making you swoon over your closest friend for years, centuries even.
“Time and love are strange concepts, aren’t they?” You asked, looking straight at him. Here goes nothing, you thought.
“I believe those are rather simple concepts”
“You can spend a lifetime with someone, know every habit and expression but you don’t know how they truly feel about you” You said staring at him, searching for any hint that indicated he knew what you were talking about. But you saw nothing. Who were you kidding? He’s just your friend, has been for a long time.
You let out a defeated laugh, standing up and letting go of his hand. “Forgive me, I don’t really know what i’m saying” you said, grabbing the potion and starting to leave. But you felt his hand on your wrist, stopping your movements.
“You said you felt the desires of every being that stepped foot on Teyvat’s soil, am I right?” he asked, looking at you. You nodded. “Does it work on me?”
“You wanted to get close to me, as a friend”
“My apologies my dearest y/n, but I think your blessing is wrong” he said, standing up and holding your hand once again. “I did want to get closer to you as a friend at first, but not any longer. I’ve been observing mortals for a while as well, on my daily walks through Liyue Harbor, and I think I finally understood my feelings”
You were sure that if Zhongli listened close enough, he would hear the fast beating of your heart.
“I’ve been waiting for you to use your love potion on me, my dear y/n. I’m sure it wouldn’t have worked anyways since I believe it would take a lot of effort to make an effective potion that could work on me. But it would have given me the excuse to tell you how I really feel” he said.
“How do you feel then?” you asked him, looking up at the tall man.
“I think I’m very lucky to have you by my side, and it makes me want to travel to the Dendro nation and personally thank the Archon for assigning you to Liyue. I also want you to still be by my side for the centuries to come, if you’re okay with that” he said, lowering his voice by the end.
You acted before you could process your thoughts. You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his cheek gently, never letting go of his hand. He liked you, he felt the same way about you. It was real.
“I’m okay with that” you replied.
Venti
It was almost noon, almost an hour after the original time you accorded with Venti to meet. You planned a picnic date by the big tree near the statue of the Seven, your favorite spot. The same spot which later, became Venti’s favorite spot as well.
He wasn’t a person who would jump straight to conclusions. You were late. Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you couldn’t find the guitar you promised to bring so you could play a duet. Being late doesn’t mean something bad happened, right?”
He decided to wait a few more moments, but once the sun set, he had enough. He went out to try and find you. He went to your house, but noticed the door was locked and no one was inside. “They left” he thought.
He slowly but surely started to get desperate. Where were you? Were you hurt? Did you get lost somehow? He went to Angel’s Share, and not even Master Diluc had seen you. If Venti wasn’t in such a panicked state, he would have noticed the rare concerned and worried look Diluc had on his face.
If any traveler walked by literally any road in Mondstadt, they would soon encounter a big rush of wind. Venti went from here to there as fast as he could, trying to find you.
He soon enough found you in Stormbearer Mountains, fighting hilichurls and two pyro mages. You looked tired, sweat covering your body and your clothes were dirty. It was obvious that this has been going on for a while. You gripped your sword as hard as you could, and kept fighting. Why didn’t you call for him? With no exception, Venti tells you daily to call for him if you ever encounter a problem. It’s not that he doesn’t think you’re strong, oh no, he believed you were the strongest mortal in Teyvat. But in the end, to him you were still a mortal. Fragile and over-sensitive. He often told you to call his name, that the wind will carry it and he will appear there to help you out. So why didn’t you?
“y/n!” he screamed, once he laid his eyes on you. You turned around and saw a rush on wind, and felt his presence. What you didn’t feel though, was the pyro attack coming from one of the mages. The mage summoned three pyro artifacts that surrounded you, and burnt you. You felt your energy slip away, your head dizzy and your body burning. Then, you felt the cold wind, Venti quickly finishing off the mages and the remaining hilichurls.
Venti thought it was over. You were kneeled down, burnt skin, gasping for air. It was over, you were going to die. He felt his eyes water and fear running through his veins. He wrapped his arms around you, making you lean on his chest.
“Don’t leave me” he begged. “please”
“My dear, I don’t think I can” you said, letting out a short laugh.
“Please stay strong, I think I can carry you to the cathedral but you need to hold very still so-“ he started saying, now fully crying but you interrupted him by putting a hand on his cheek and wiping his tears with your thumb.
“I’m serious, I don’t think I can leave anyways. Venti, I literally can’t die.” you said, with a laugh and slowly standing up.
“You... you’re immortal?” he asked, looking up at you, not being able to leave the floor.
You nodded. “I thought you knew”
“I hate you” he said, standing up and wiping away his tears. “I do”
“No you don’t. But you’re cute though!” you said, grabbing his face and kissing the tip of his nose. “I’m very sorry I’m late though, my commission took longer than I thought but let me compensate you with dinner and a bottle of wine”
“But you’re still burnt?” he asked you, concern still in his face.
“Oh don’t worry about that, it will rip out when I start walking. I have healthy skin underneath” you said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Why do I feel like this is not your first time getting so hurt?” he asked letting out a soft chuckle, suddenly feeling lighter now that he knows you’re okay and will probably be okay for a long long while.
“Eh, been there done that a few times” you simply said, taking his hand and walking back to the city of Mondstadt.
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bangtan-pugh-bug · 3 years
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Scott Lang x Reader Chapter 13
This chapter follows directly on from chapter 12 I REALLY need to make a master list I know. Ended up way longer than I expected but I hope you enjoy! :)) and let me know if you want to be added to my tag list <3
Warnings: smut, age gap, swearing as fucking always
‘Oh fuck,’ his eyelids fluttered as he rode into you. You wanted to take his shirt off and take all of him in but the pleasure was keeping you lay down. Scott felt your walls tightening as you struggled to decide where to look and what to do with your hands. He seemed to sense the indecision because in a surprisingly wholesome twist, Scott’s hand found its way in your hair before caressing your cheek. All you could hear was both of your heavier breaths matching each other’s rhythms. You’d known before (and of course said before) that you loved Scott but having him look at you with such compassion in bed made you know for certain.
You both let the pause continue but Scott’s impatience was obvious, despite him trying to hide it for your sake. ‘You’re wearing too many clothes,’ you finally said before smirking up at him. The atmosphere took an instant shift as the two of you fought with the fabric and felt it rip off of his chest. And oh fucking hell was the sight of Scott shirtless a treat. You knew he worked out, Tony had a gym everyone used for training, but you never knew he had actual ab muscles. Scott chuckled as he watched you stare at them in awe. Fuck fuck fuck. You couldn’t believe what was happening.
Scott’s finger below your chin guided your gaze back to his green eyes. There was no hesitation after that. As the two of you kissed with lust filled ferocity, you postured up and pushed down on Scott’s shoulders so you could sit in his lap. You tried to continue devouring each other’s taste but the sound that slipped from you as you sank down onto him was pornographic and distracting as hell. You rode him slowly because after such a long wait why not tease him? He could have made this happen ages ago. Selfish of him really.
‘Jesu-fuck Y/N,’ the poor man struggled to keep his head facing you and not back looking at the ceiling. ‘You feel amazing,’ you couldn’t help but beam at his praise. After spending so many nights touching yourself to the fantasy of riding him, having it happen in real life was overwhelming. His large hands gripped your waist while you continued your torment of slowly filling yourself up and down. You didn’t want this to just become another memory in the past that would never happen again. Scott’s firm hands digging into your waist brought you away from the nagging thoughts. ‘Fuck you’re so tight.’ He felt so good it was driving you insane. As he hit your g-spot dangerously slowly you let out a whine.
‘You..can go,’ he already sounded wrecked which made you smug as anything. ‘Faster than that Y/N.’ His eyes were closed but you were determined to keep yours open to look at his face. The obvious pleasure he was feeling. You decided to oblige him and speed up, never once did his cock grazing your g spot not send wonderful shivers down your spine. Your face felt hot- your whole body was on fire.
It was your turn to throw your head back. No one had made you feel as high as Scott, not even close. The man was fucking addictive.
All you could focus on was the full feeling you had in your stomach, Scott’s wrecked voice and his firm grip on your waist. Part of you wished they were around your neck. Maybe next time. ‘Scotttttt….’ you moaned. He fucking adored hearing you moan and hearing you say his name was going to send him over the edge. You wanted to see it. With desperate, yet shaky hands, you thought about crawling his back but it felt forced for a moment. Once again he sensed your minor uncertainty and handled it for you. ‘Come here,’ his voice was husky but breathless as he pulled you into a kiss while you rode him faster and faster.
Your walls were tightening and your toes began to curl on the bedsheets but you felt a sudden impulse to move so you pulled him on top of you. It broke the kiss but it meant on Scott’s next thrust you felt him even deeper and a prolonged moan left your open mouth as you came. Your eyes closed and your body jerked and writhed underneath Scott’s panting chest. He didn’t move for a moment, completely lost in witnessing you enjoy every second of your orgasm. It hit you in waves that felt endless for a moment before your entire body stopped its uncontrollable writhing that pushed Scott over the edge.
He came inside you and, for a moment, almost lost balance. You were so in shock from the huge mass of pleasure you’d just felt that your chest was rising and falling heavier than it did after a run. That orgasm had hit you like a brick. You struggled to sit up as you felt Scott, to your surprise, move down your body. How did he have any energy left? You were exhausted.
One more feeble attempt to sit up was not needed because Mr Scott Lang had decided to surprise you by inserting his fingers in your pussy and smugly licking your clit. Without the much needed warning. ‘Ah- too sensitive!’ You squealed, backing away from Scott on the bed to escape. He was definitely amused. ‘You okay over there?’ Wow. After the sounds he had made?! He was going to make you out to be overwhelmed? However his confident side made you wet and you were not one to complain after sex so:
‘I’m great.’ You smiled coyly and closed your legs as if you weren’t leaking his cum all over the bed and just there to talk. Scott smiled and made his way back over to you like a panther on some sort of sick hunt. ‘You’re trouble.’ He responded, almost judging but still humorous. When you didn’t respond you saw his face change to show some insecurity about his actions. ‘Are you already regrett-‘
‘I regret not getting you to slam me against a wall to be honest.’ You hugged your knees, your breath had returned to normal and you were grinning at Scott like a cat that had gotten its own way. Finally.
‘Well shit,’ he paused with his hand on his forehead and a raise of his eyebrows. ‘That can be arranged.’
Yes but not now, you thought, too tired for that. Must sleep. Must lie down.
The bed, despite being wet, was so inviting and Scott following your lead and wrapping his arms around your waist even more so. You felt safe next to him. At peace. You heard Scott’s breathing normalise but neither one of you spoke. There was no awkwardness like you’d feared and apart from the horrible intrusive thought ‘Am I better or worse than his ex wife’ you felt calm and… happy. Really happy. Tentatively, Scott’s hands found themselves stroking your hair. He ran his fingers through it gently and you smiled and closed your eyes. The smell of sex had filled the room but your arousal was somehow being overpowered by the calm. And there was one question you were curious about.
‘How long for you?’
You expected a brief silence or atleast a ‘Huh’ due to your vagueness but Scott just knew exactly what you’d meant.
‘Atleast a year,’ you quietly turned to face him so he knew he had your full attention. ‘But I really knew when you came to comfort me, on my anniversary.’ You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows and scoff. ‘You mean when I came to annoy you on the roof?’ Scott’s smirk grew into a full grin at you. ‘And why is that so surprising?’ To be quite honest you’d felt like an intrude that night and not much help to him at all but it was nice to know he felt differently. He looked so pretty lay opposite you, your hands found their way into his hair ruffling it even more. ‘I don’t know.’ You lied.
‘What about you?’ It was his turn to play with your hair again. Oh that was easy. Too easy. ‘First day I met you,’ it was growing harder to look Scott in the eye as you admitted it. ‘I kept thinking about y- I only ever asked you dumb questions as an excuse to talk to you until- well until we were friends.’ He was listening intently which you were not used to men doing. “Were?” Scott questioned knowingly, he waited for your response and you could practically see his ego growing by the second. Of course ‘were’.
‘Well would you call this friendship?’ You laughed, gesturing to the two of you in bed slightly sweaty from moments earlier. After a second too long for your liking passed your eyes widened at the sight of Scott’s hoodie on the floor. You’d forgot he’d brought it with him and it looked comfy as anything. ‘Hold on I’ve always wanted to do this,’ you grinned excitedly like a little kid and Scott watched you in amusement. Struggling for a moment, you pulled the black hoodie over your head (because your hair wasn’t messy enough already) and gestured proudly to your new (stolen) outfit. It smelt like him which just made you giddier.
‘You’ve never slept with a guy and stolen his hoodie before?’ Scott raised his eyebrows clearly not believing you or understanding the appeal. ‘They’ve been out the fucking door too fast.’ You shrugged trying not to let that harsh fact sink in. Oh well. You were feeling good now at least. Scott frowned but once again you couldn’t help but not wait for his reply- just in case it hurt you in some way and brought your high down. ‘Kinda hungry not gonna lie.’ You hadn’t even eaten yet but that wasn’t what you were really thinking about as you stood over Scott as he sat on the bed.
Slyly, he ran his calloused hands under his hoodie and up your torso making you gasp. He couldn’t help but grin at the strong reactions you had to his mild touches. Deciding to really tease you, Scott’s hand traveled down to your pussy so he could finger you but being overstimulated you whined and grabbed his wrist. The man just thought you sounded pretty. ‘Fuck- you’re dripping sweetheart.’ You grinned once again at his words and clenched your thighs together. ‘Who’s fault is that?’
Tags: @supraveng @thottio @wandamaximoffshoe @aliceblxck @merleisapartygod @brianmayscurls
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spacejellyfish3 · 3 years
Text
the utena show’s ending is extremely powerful on its own yes but utena’s final apology? to anthy of not being able to be her prince in the end never stuck right with me. and I think that’s cause in a sense it’s still centering the prince as important, as aspirational, that maybe it could have been a better ending for them—that utena could’ve survived if she were her prince. and of course I might be reaching with that possibly probably but I still wanted to air that opinion out (maybe someone else has similar misgivings as I do and can expand on it so there).
but the real problem for me is that show anthy still very much places utena as a savior figure, as her “prince”. while I live for anthy’s savage verbal takedown of akio as a powerless coward trapped in a Sisyphean game of pretend for all eternity but even so she herself is still shown to subscribe to the dogma of the heroic prince. even visually anthy’s idealization of utena is displayed with her dressed in pink. this visual marker is carried over into the movie with anthy’s bridal gown changing from red (which makes sense since anthy is indian coded and an indian bride’s sari is traditionally red) to white and pink, connoting her as utena’s princess.
movie anthy’s placement of utena onto a pedestal of princehood also often extends beyond subtext and into the text itself, a key example being the scene right before utena’s famed car wash makeover where anthy says “you’re the prince of the academy now, every miracle and all eternity is yours…so long as you stay in this world.” anthy believes that you can only exercise power, have power, be happy, be free within the system, and it’s important to note that there is very much truth in that notion but this power I’m referring to is that of self actualization, the power of maturity. yet…utena rejects that noise, she says no, she says fuck that let’s go be free in the outside world.
if the show is about breaking away from the confines of abuse, then the movie is about breaking away from the confines of trauma. it’s extremely powerful when anthy takes the steps out of ohtori; it’s hard even just to find the strength to leave an abusive situation let alone actively do it. but the pain remains, trauma doesn’t disappear it’s haunting it’s ghostly sometimes literally manifesting. both movie utena and anthy are hounded and bound to apparitions they’ve forgotten are actually dead.
touga died years ago sacrificing himself for nothing in the end and became princely an ideal to strive for and utena has to come to grips with that and she basically says no you don’t control me my grief my trauma does not control me thank you for being my prince but I can’t be a prince I don’t want to be it’s not real
anthy is real
I am real
akio is abuse he is torment and toxicity he is anthy’s monster, maybe a monster that she created once upon a time but he chose to perpetuate his monstrosity. and when confronted with his actions he couldn’t face it he hurt her more made it her fault for the hurt he caused her and he died he’s dead he’s gone but he remains in the ground anthy buried him beneath the roses. the rose garden is a prison she is the only one held captive by the roses and it grows up up high up but it’s still there the roses remain he’s still there in her mind and he’ll never leave but he’s not in control. he’s dead, he’s been dead for so long he remains but he’s not real and he’s no prince because the prince was a lie that never existed it’s not real
utena is real
I am real
and they blaze past everything. there are obstacles but there are friends too who aren’t there yet but they’re on the path they’re trying they’re growing they have high goals they want to reach and someday they will but you can now. it’s anthy’s story it’s anthy journey and it’s hard of course it’s hard
but they break free. they break the castle so huge so big so impossible but it wasn’t real
it’s just rose petals flying in the wind
akio doesn’t control her and though it might be so that she and utena can’t make it outside, that they have to continue as princesses stuck in the role that people give them but they don’t have power over them, they’re free and no longer draped in any costume or performance, they’re truth out of her well to shame mankind and that’s fucking awesome. they might not make it, they might fail like the broken down husks of those who came before them, but they can try they’re free to try. they have the power to try. to revolutionize the world. to revolutionize their world.
“the outside world has no roads, but you can always build new roads.”
I binged the entire series and the movie last year around March maybe, sometime right before quarantine…and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, analyzing it, since. I’m pretty sure it radicalized me and honestly I’m glad it did. revolutionary girl utena speaks truth to power and exists as a creative work in a way that I don’t think anything else has or will. it’s fundamentally itself but simultaneously thrives on external interpretation. it’s both an enigma wrapped in a mystery and as obvious and unsubtle as a trainwreck. above is my favorite quote of the entire franchise because it’s so simple but so profound—you could say it’s my equivalent of “what is grief if not love persevering”.
there are no roads to follow, but you’re open to build your own path your own way. no one defines you but you and that’s simple that’s kinda naive but what’s wrong with that. I’m not sure who originally said this or stated this proverb or whatever, I know I read it somewhere but I’m not sure where, and I’m definitely paraphrasing but
adults are so quick to say the world is unfair and be done with it, but a child would look at that and say: why not make it fair? that’s really simple and it’s innocent of course but it’s still true. why can’t we make things fair, because we definitely could it’s not impossible.
I’m not sure how to end this post—I definitely should cause it’s plenty long already—but rgu is highly foundational to me on a visceral level. it’s helped me in ways shifted me in ways I can’t describe and I can’t really imagine myself now existing without its influence. the best way I could describe its impact its power its importance really boils down to
the outside world has no roads, but you can always build new roads.
words to live by.
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kamino-blues · 3 years
Text
Don't Give up on Me (Crosshair x Reader)
Warnings: Angst with some soft moments
Word Count: 1.4k
Seeing Crosshair last episode really made me miss him. I just want his chip to be removed, but when it does get removed in the show Cross is most likely going to be messed up from what happened to him. I wanted to write about Cross being free from the Empires control. <3
It was quiet, the dim room somber. The only sound that was filling the room was a monitor that went off every few minutes. Crosshair had just gone under the chip removal operation, him putting up a huge fight in the process. He had damaged some of the equipment before he went under, and you were all unsure of his fate. You were by his side, holding his limp right hand as Tech monitored Crosshair's vitals (to the best of his abilities, the screens were cracked from bullet holes).
Hunter and Wrecker were across from you, keeping an eye on him. Echo was with Omega, and every so often they would come over and sit by you. Omega would crawl into your lap, giving you a hug as you continued to hold his hand. That was the only thing you could do, hold onto him until he wakes up. If he wakes up.
Your hope was dwindling the longer you sat there, hours going by slowly. Your eyes were red and tear filled, but you couldn’t cry anymore. All you could do is stare at his face and see all the differences that the Empire had caused.
His face was scarred, burns on the right side of his head from what you were thinking came from the encounter you all had with him on Bracca. Crosshair hadn’t even looked at you that day, the only time he did was when he sent a bullet flying, almost grazing the left side of your head. You couldn’t even speak, you wanted to bargain with your loved one but you were stuck in place. You really wish you had, it had been a moment that you had been regretting every single day since the encounter.
Cross's hair was also now gone, the hair that you would teasingly play with (which usually led to him messing up your own hair) was no more. It gave him a different energy, and it hurt to see what the Empire did to your love.
You were just glad that he was in his blacks rather than that dreaded elite squad armor. It only brought back the painful memories of him hunting you down. His real armor and his rifle were still waiting for him back on the ship, near your bunk, what should be your shared bunk. That all depended on if Crosshair would wake up.
You couldn’t focus on anything now, your eyes staring down at your lap as you tighten your grip on Crosshair's hand. The tears were falling again, biting your lip to try and not make any sound. You felt a hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t know who it was. All you could do is weep for your loved one who may or may not wake up.
“Please wake up Crosshair,, please…” you trailed off, closing your eyes. You sat by his side for hours, the rest of the bad batch slowly falling asleep. But you couldn’t. You stayed awake, dark circles slowly forming under your eyes. It was around 2 am when you felt your hand squeezed. It didn’t process for a second, before your eyes widened, looking up at Crosshair.
His eyes were still closed, but you could see him shifting on the table. As soon as you squeezed his hand back, his eyes opened. You tensed, you had no clue if the procedure had worked, so you kicked Techs leg to wake him up. Crosshair made eye contact with you, his eyes softening when he saw you. You could feel tears slipping out of your eyes, tightening your grip on his hand. He gave you the lightest smile you had ever seen from him, before he spoke.
“Cyar’ika..” Crosshair trailed off, not knowing what to say. You had to bite your lip, nodding. You were about to reply, but Crosshair was bombarded by Tech and soon after his other brothers. You stepped back, letting them have their time, after all they had known him for much much longer than you have. You squeezed his hand one more time, his eyes on his brothers but he made sure to squeeze back, before you let go of his hand. You let Omega sit in your chair to interact with Cross, moving farther back.
You ended up leaning against the wall, wiping away your tears to try and calm yourself. You couldn’t believe that he was back. The group had been in denial for so long, you had been in denial for so long. You couldn’t even imagine the torment that he had gone through. Just watching him from afar, you could tell in his mannerisms that he was off. He was mostly quiet, only talking when directly spoken to. Crosshair would glance over at you from time to time, and the amount of emotion in his eyes made you flinch. You could just see how uncomfortable he was.
Minutes pass, your eyes not leaving Crosshair as you looked on with concern. You saw Hunter look up at you, before muttering something to his brothers. They all looked up at you, before starting to stand up. You looked around at them, before Hunter gave you a nod, moving to leave the room. You watched them leave, feeling Crosshair's eyes on you. You took a deep breath, nerves running through you, before turning around.
You made eye contact, and automatically fell apart. Crosshair was sitting on the operating table, legs swung over to dangle over the right of the table. His hands were clasped together, his shoulders rigid. You moved in front of him, reaching to touch him but quickly pulling away when he flinched. So you took up residence sitting next to him, leaving a bit of room between the two of you.
“Cross, I’m so glad you are safe,” You were looking over at him, voice starting to crack, “I thought we lost you Cross, I thought you were gone.” You couldn’t stop the tears starting again, mentally cursing at yourself. He was looking at you, you could see his eyes tearing up as he reached for your hand. You quickly grabbed it, holding it tightly.
You both sat in silence, not knowing what to say. You knew that it was better not to force Crosshair to talk. You don't know how much time went by when he started to speak, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“I thought you all were going to abandon me,” Crosshair paused, blinking. “Every encounter I was there. I was there in mind but I couldn’t control myself. Every bad thing I did, every innocent person I killed, I couldn’t stop. I could barely stop myself from killing you, I had no control.” He trailed off, looking at the ground. “I thought you had given up on me.”
You turned your body towards him, letting go of his hand to hover your hand over his cheek. You looked in his eyes for approval and he nodded, using his hand to guide yours onto his face. You lightly used your fingertips to trace his scar. He flinched at first, but started to lean into the touch.
“I would never ever give up on you Crosshair. You mean the absolute world to me. Every single day from the time I woke up to the time I went to sleep, You were always there in my mind. I had no clue where you were, how you were. I was so damn worried and I still am. What the Empire did to you is unforgivable, and I will fight each and every one of them for what they did to you. I’m so sorry we couldn’t get you sooner, I’m so sorry.” You never thought you would see the usually stoic sniper break, but as you saw the tears fall from his eyes you pulled him into a hug.
Crosshair held onto you for dear life, his hands gripping at your shirt as tears fell from his eyes into your shoulder. He was shaking, you could feel it, small gasps coming from his mouth. All you could do was comfort him, rubbing his back lightly as you assured him that you were here for him. You held him through his tremors, it was the only thing you could do.
He didn’t pull away, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Crosshair never thought that he would see you again with control over his body, he thought he would never be able to hold you again. It didn’t feel real, but yet it was.
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum Cyar’ika” Crosshair couldn’t stop himself from mumbling into your shoulder. You relaxed in his grasp, leaning to give a light kiss to the side of his head.
“I love you too Crosshair,, I love you too.”
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nev3rfound · 3 years
Text
one of a kind : l.l
with loki having returned to earth, the avengers call upon their newest recruit, an angel to help. only, loki refuses to believe the truth until it’s too late.  (1.9k) 
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Sighing to himself, Tony walks away from the vault as Steve awaits him outside. “Any luck?” Steve asks, receiving a look that says more than words could. “Well, we’re not out of options yet.” Steve adds, trying his best to remain hopeful as Tony rolls his eyes.
“He still not talking?” Natasha pipes up as the pair return to Tony’s lab where the rest of the team stand, eager for any form of update.
“He won’t budge, thanks for that, Thor.” Tony quips, shooting Thor a look who simply shrugs before placing his hammer down on the metal table with a heavy thud.
“It’s not my fault my brother is so unwilling.” Thor comments, keeping his head down.
“He killed three people and threatened the lives of everyone in this building.” Natasha reminds him, and Thor raises his head meekly.
“He’s adopted?” He weakly states.
“This isn’t enough, I think we gotta bring in the big guns.” Tony rises to his feet, pacing around the room as all eyes turn to him.
Shifting on the spot, Steve clears his throat before speaking up. “Tony, I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Oh, and do you have any better ideas, Cap?” Tony shoots back, frustration rising through him as Loki remains locked up in the vault, tormenting them endlessly. “Didn’t think so.” He mutters under his breath. “Friday, can you send our sunshine a message to meet us in my lab?”
“Of course, Tony. Message sent.” Friday responds, and Steve glances over to Natasha, knowing it’s too soon.
Within a matter of minutes, you tiredly walk through the doors of Tony’s lab, seeing the Avengers all stood around. “Am I crashing some kinda party?” You chuckle, but your laughter isn’t well received based on the solemn expressions. “Tough crowd.”
“How’re you doing, sunshine?” Tony walks toward you, resting his arm over your shoulders.
“I’m better today.” You tell him truthfully. “Healing is taking a bit longer than usual, but I’ll be fine in a few days.”
Tony hums to himself, glancing over his shoulder to the rest of the team. “Listen, Y/n, we’ve got a favour to ask of you, and it might not be easy.” Tony begins and guides you back to face the rest of the Avengers.
Steve holds out a chair for you, noticing your breathing becoming shallow and your eyes drooping. You silently thank him as you sit down, glad to take the weight off your feet.
“How can I help?” You ask, a bright smile on your face.
Despite everything you’ve been through these past few months, you’re still more than willing to help everyone else.
“Well, Thor’s brother decided to pay us an unexpected visit,” Tony trails off as you raise a brow to Thor.
“Loki’s here?” You watch as Thor nods. After hearing countless stories from Thor about his brother, you can’t believe he’s here. “So where is he?”
“In the vault.” Natasha states bluntly as you whip your head around. “Sorry, Y/n. It’s the safest place for him to be.” She adds, and you nod to yourself, knowing it’s probably for the best after what happened last time.
“He’s not talking to anyone, is he?” You knew your goal at that moment as the Avengers nodded in response. “Okay.” You mutter under your breath as you rise to your feet, forcing back a groan as a sharp pain shoots up your side.
Steve’s hands hover naturally toward you, but you push through it. “We’ll be in here, Y/n.” Steve tells you. “If you need us at all, or want out, just say.” He adds.
“Thanks, Steve.” You smile sweetly before carrying on alongside Tony, heading toward the vault that you have only ever entered once.
“We just wanna know what he’s planning, why he’s back and all.” Tony briefly explains what they currently know, and the many gaps in Loki’s story as you stand in front of the doors to the vault.
You watch as two men open the doors, revealing a metal bridge leading to the glass container where Loki is sitting.
Loki lifts his head up, and as you catch his gaze it isn’t what you expected. After hearing countless tales of the past you anticipated seeing someone who radiated evil. But sitting before you is a God weakened by his past, not someone who revels in it.
“We’ll be outside like Cap said.” Tony mutters to you as he glares to Loki who merely smiles back.
“Bye, Tony.” You wave to him as the door is closed, leaving you and Loki in a moment of silence whilst you compose yourself.
“You’re not afraid,” Loki speaks up, now standing as he paces around the cylindrical container, a reinforced version of the previous one. “it’s awfully stupid of you.” He adds, and you can’t help but laugh quietly.
“Why should I be afraid?” You dare to ask as you lean against the railings, heavily relying on them as you make eye contact with Loki. “You’re just a God.”
“Oh my dear,” Loki laughs, shaking his head. “you have no idea who you’re talking to, clearly. You’re a mere mortal, why do you all think you can trick me into telling you anything?”
Sighing to yourself, you push your weight from the railings and step forward. “Perhaps because I’m not a ‘mere mortal’?” You suggest, now catching Loki’s attention. “I grew up with God’s, some, like you and others well,” You trail off. “we don’t talk about those ones.”
“What are you saying? You’re a God?” He coldly asks, but you shake your head in response.
“Oh, Gods no.” You admit. “I’m an Angel.” You state.
“No, you’re not.” Loki bluntly comments, looking you up and down before turning away from you. “Angels don’t exist, they’re a fairytale to keep children calm and believe in an afterlife.” He scoffs.
It’s your turn to scoff as you pause, waiting for him to look back at you. “Some say your kind are fairytales, Loki. Doesn’t mean that you aren’t real.” You explain, nearing the glass. “Why are you adamant that I can’t be an angel?”
Turning on his heels, Loki smirks as he approaches the glass, hovering before it and towers over you. “I would know if angels existed. Now, if you don’t mind I was in the middle of thinking about the thirty different ways I can escape here without the need for a mortal to interrupt me.” Loki states.
“Fair enough.” You shrug your shoulders as you cross your arms over your chest. “However, Loki?” You call out. “There are thirty-seven ways out of here, just so you know.” You chuckle, stepping back and return to the railing, trying to hide the pain in your laugh as it ripples through your spine.
Loki’s lips part to respond, but his eyes focus on your hand clutching your side. “You’re injured, aren’t you?” He asks, watching as you nod. “In the tales of Angels aren’t you supposed to heal within minutes of being injured? The whole ‘immortal’ aspect of being an Angel.” Loki paces around the cell once more, but his eyes never leave you.
“It’s a bit more complex than that.” You tell him through gritted teeth. “When an Angel falls from above or rises from below, our powers are still within us, but they aren’t as effective since we’re in the mortal world.” Your breathing slows down now, and you can’t help but slip down to the ground.
“How did you fall?” Loki kneels behind the glass, focusing on you closely. Yet, your breathing becomes slower, and the curiosity Loki has for you increases. “Tell me!” He yells, slamming his fist to the ground.
“I was sent to guard over a human, something we all do at some point.” You begin to explain, picturing the young boys face as he sat with a bloody nose in the middle of the park as children walked away, leaving him to suffer. “He, well, despite my efforts of guarding him, he didn’t make it.” Tears fill your eyes as you remember the day you fell, the consequences of your actions or lack thereof. “How about you, Loki?” You quickly change the topic of conversation. “Why did you come back to Earth?”
“You think I’m going to simply tell you because you told me a story?” Loki remarks.
“Stranger things have happened in all my years.” You tell him, shifting as you try to rise back to your feet. “And trust me, I’ve had plenty of them.” You joke as you stand back up, firmly gripping onto the railing behind you.
“Nonsense,” Loki mutters. “you’re a mortal, no older than Thor’s beloved Jane.”
You shake your head. “I’ve lived for nearly three hundred years.” You tell him. “It’s all in the eyes, Loki. But you only ever see the fear in them, whereas I see hope.”
“You’re here to envoke hope? That I might somehow change with the help of an ‘angel?’“
“Like I said, Loki.” Your voice quietens as you try to ignore the growing pain searing through your body. “Stranger things have happened.”
“Well, I am truly sorry.” Loki chuckles. “But this has been fun, a great story you’ve construed together I’ll admit.” He laughs softly. “As if a mortal of such a young age could try and tempt me.”
“I wasn’t here to tempt you, Loki.” You state clearly, despite your vision beginning to blur. “As I said, I was here to try and help you. As that’s what I do, it’s what I know.” Your voice softens as words struggle to leave your lips coherently.
“Nice try, mortal. But you’ll never get me to crack.” Loki spits to you, and that’s when you fall to the ground.
Immediately, the doors open and Steve rushes in.
“What did you do to her?!” Steve yells to Loki as you lie unconscious.
“How could I do anything when I’m stuck in here?” Loki holds his hands up in defence.
Steve glares to the God as he tries to pull you into his embrace. “Tony?” Steve calls out, and Tony walks in with Thor behind him, causing Loki to sigh heavily.
With the help of Thor, Steve is able to get you to your feet, but as you stand up your wings appear.
“Careful!” Steve warns the others. “Y/n told me her cloaking doesn’t work if she’s unconscious.”
“Come on then,” Tony mutters as he helps Steve carry you out, minding your large bright wings.
Yet, standing in disbelief, Loki can’t help but rethink his entire conversation with you. He watches as your wings drap across the floor, feathers catching on the metal and he winces as some are left behind.
“Angels are real?” Loki thinks aloud.
“What did you do to her, dear brother?” Thor asks, defeated as he hovers by the glass. “Y/n is nothing but a kind spirit, a real angel, Loki. Couldn’t you see that?”
Lowering his head, Loki remains silent.
Without another word being said, Thor exits the vault, leaving Loki alone as the door is sealed shut once more.
Staring down at the stray feathers you left behind, Loki buries his head in his hands. “I’m sorry.” He mutters under his breath, wishing he could’ve believed you whilst you were here and seen the hope in your eyes, and the fear looking back at them.
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excitedlysuffering · 4 years
Text
When You Make Up
AHA! YES FINALLY! I’ve been such a procrastinator lmao🤣💀 it’s finally out, the Part 2 to How He Hurts Your Feelings.
Naruto~
It had been a few days since you had last seen the Uzumaki and from the way you were coping, one would have assumed it had been months. Naruto was always there to make you laugh and be happy, but without him, everything had seemed a bit bleaker.
You stayed holed up in your room, trying to keep yourself from going to him, but it was an uphill battle. It was well past afternoon, but you were still in bed feeling slightly less miserable than before, but still not great.
That’s when you heard it, a knocking so loud and persistent that it couldn’t be ignored. Grumbling all the way, you dragged yourself to your door. You were ready to scream when no one was there. Until you looked down and saw a takeout bag, with ‘Korean Grill’ spelled out on the front. The very same place you wanted to take Naruto…
Suspicious, you quickly went inside and set down the delicious smelling food. You tiptoed up to your room, not knowing what you expected to find, but you knew something was up.
In your room, or rather all over your room, were Naruto and some of his clones. Eight of them stood in a line, each one holding a small sign. In order, it read ‘I’m so sorry will you please forgive me?’
“Naru…” Even though he had hurt you deeply, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the thoughtfulness of his apology. The real one walked over to you, nervousness written all over his face. “I was a huge idiot and I hurt you… I regret every word I said and how selfish I’ve been.” You couldn’t help but throw your arms around his neck.
He was sorry and he had gone out of his way to do this. You felt your anger melting away as he hugged you back, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Of course, I forgive you, baka… I really missed you.” He sighed in relief. “I missed you too. Now, let’s go eat before your food gets cold.”
Sasuke~
Much to your relief, Ino had invited you to her flower shop to hang out. You had gotten tired of sulking around for the last three days and there was no better way to have your spirits lifted than to hang out with the optimistic blonde.
You stepped into her shop, confused as to why it was so dark and quiet. It was the middle of the day…
“Ino? What’s going on? Where are you?” Suddenly the lights turned on, revealing a bouquet of purple hyacinths, white tulips, and daffodils, all of which were flowers used commonly in apologies. But why were they here? You picked up the flowers, confused. Ino hadn’t done anything wrong? A note peeked up at you. Relieved to finally have some kind of explanation.
‘(Y/N),’ it read, ‘you’re probably wondering why you’re here. I didn’t think you would meet up with me if I asked you point-blank, so I asked Ino to help me. I was an idiot the other day, being rude and speaking before thinking… I let my pride get in the way and I hurt you. The truth is, after a lot of thinking while I was recovering, is that I need you more than I could’ve imagined. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.’ -S.U.
Your hands trembled at the unexpected apology. Sasuke had a hard time saying small ‘sorry’ for small things, but for him to have given you this big of an apology? He really did mean what he said.
“(Y/N)? You’re probably still mad, and you have every right to be, but… I’m going to make it up to you. I’m going to better, for you.” The Uchiha appeared behind you, looking determined, but also a little nervous. Your gaze softened as you approached him.
“I believe you. I’m just glad to have you back.” His shoulders sagged with relief. He didn’t say anything, instead, pulling you into his chest in an uncharacteristic display of affection. You hugged him back without hesitation as you felt whole once again. “I am too… I never want to feel so lonely again. Forgive me?” You nodded against his chest, your answer was imminent. “Of course.”
Neji~
You were lost. You and Neji had never had a fight quite like this. When he left did he mean for it to be a final thing, or not? It had only been a day since he had blown up at you, but these questions had kept you up all night.
Your manuscript laid on your desk, untouched after Neji had thoroughly insulted it. You figured if even Neji hated it, why would anyone else buy it? Instead, you occupied your time stress cleaning. Everything in your home sparkled like the top of the Chrysler building (A/N: Kudos if you get the reference) by the time you were finished, but didn’t feel any better.
It wasn’t until you heard a quiet knocking on your front door that you realized just how much of a mess you had become in such a short time. You were only dressed in sweat pants and a tank top, but you couldn’t care less. No one worth dressing up for would be waiting on your doorstep.
It wasn’t until your eyes met familiar pearlescent ones that you realized just how much his absence had affected you. Even though you were still angry and hurt, you couldn’t but sag in relief that he wasn’t planning on ending things with you.
“Neji… um, come in…” Never had you felt so awkward around him, and he clearly picked up on that. “I was out of line yesterday… I know that. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just…” He paused as if unsure of himself, “I was jealous. You were spending so much time writing, I assumed that I had lost importance.”
You felt your eyes water at how nervous and hurt he sounded. Yes, what he had said the day before was disrespectful, but it had stemmed from you taking him for granted.
“I’m sorry too, Neji, I wasn’t thinking about how this was affecting you. I just wanted to… it doesn’t matter, I’m just glad you’re here.” He sighed in relief, hesitantly embracing you. “I am too, (Y/N).” You had no words to describe how right everything felt, so you said nothing, opting to instead to just cling to him.
Shikamaru~
You had successfully managed to avoid the lying Nara for a week’s time and you weren’t planning on changing that any time soon. If he didn’t want to see you, you would make sure he didn’t. That did not mean you were going to lock yourself inside your house and sulk. You, (F/N) (L/N) did not sulk.
In hindsight, though, you thought, maybe I should’ve stayed inside… Shikamaru had seen you walking you through the park and now you found yourself backed up into a tree, the furious boy in front of you.
“What is your problem, woman?! You’ve been avoiding me all week!” You scoffed, looking away. “I was trying not to bother you, don’t get so worked up.” He stared incredulously. “Bother? Since when is seeing my girlfriend a bother?” You stomped your foot, you knew it was childish, but you were angry. This had been bottled up for days and you could no longer hold it in.
“Since my boyfriend sent out a clone to see me after he’d been on a month-long mission! Come to think of it, that probably wasn’t even the first time!” His jaw dropped a little before his expression shifted to shame.
“It was the first time… I was still exhausted from the mission, but I didn’t want you to be disappointed.” Your glare softened a little.
“You could’ve just told me, Shika... we could’ve taken a nap, hell I would’ve waited to see you until you were up to it!” You sighed, draping your arms around his middle. “I thought it would work, I didn’t want to upset you or neglect you. Forgive me?”
You giggled a little. “For a genius, you can be quite slow Shika. Of course, I forgive you, just don’t do it again.” He breathed out a soft laugh as he hugged you tighter.
“I won’t. And I’ll have you know, I’m the genius. I don’t even know what slow means.” You laughed as the two of you walked through the park, hand in hand. And this time, you had the real Shikamaru all to yourself.
Kiba~
You held tighter onto your stomach, trying to quell the neverending pain. You had changed into dry clothes and you were now cuddled into your bed, pillows surrounding you. You knew you should probably be happy that Kiba had finally left but instead, a nagging feeling in your chest tormented you worse than your cramps.
You screamed into your pillow in frustration. If you didn’t distract yourself, and soon, your thoughts of Kiba would torture you. You rolled out of bed and stumbled out of the room to go search for something to eat. If there was anything that could help you, it was food.
After almost crying that there was no ice cream, you settled on a bowl of the sugariest cereal you could find. It wasn’t ice cream, by any means, but it was still unhealthy enough to do its job. Suddenly, you heard your doorknob click and then turn. Your eyes narrowed as Kiba and Akamaru scrambled in, Kiba with two bags in his hands.
“What are you doing here?” You hissed lowly. The Inuzuka’s face was pale with fear as he met your hard gaze. “Listen, I’m really sorry, I was really immature and bratty, and then after you closed your door, I smelled blood and realized you were on your period and I’ve been nothing but a huge jerk so I brought you stuff!” He rushed out in one breath, holding out the bags towards you like a peace offering.
Your mouth fell open momentarily as you processed everything that had just come out of his mouth. Cautiously you peered into the bag, still a smidge wary of him after all the pranks. Your heart melted a little as you saw the contents. Inside was (f/f) ice cream, a comfy blanket, chocolates, your favorite sweatshirt of his to steal, and some snacks.
You felt your eyes well up with tears as you looked up at your nervous boyfriend. “W-wait! Don’t cry, I can lea-” You pounced on him, cutting off his sentence. Your arms were around his neck and your legs were around his waist.
“You’re so amazing, Kiba! T-thank you!” You knew there was no reason to cry, but your out of wack emotions didn’t care. “So you forgive me then?!” You giggled through your tears at his hopeful voice. “Yeah… but I’m warning you, Kiba, I’m getting my revenge! After we cuddle…” you grinned.
Gaara~
You were beyond pissed off as you laid in your bed, being forced to listen to Gaara as he moved about the kitchen. After he’d all but blown you off hours before, you had come home and decided on an early bedtime. As much as you wanted to avoid him, it was near impossible since you two shared a flat.
You had assumed he’d come home after you were asleep and just get into bed quietly. But, unfortunately, luck was still not on your side. He’d come home far earlier than you’d imagined and was making a huge ruckus, and it only fueled your anger and hurt.
After an hour of the disrespect, you’d decided you’d had enough and you stomped into the kitchen, practically radiating murderous intent. “What in the hell are you doing?” You questioned, dangerously. The redhead turned around, shame clouding his eyes. “Oh, hello, I was just making dinner… I assume you never got to eat?”
Just then your eyes drifted to the table, which was beautifully set with (favorite meal) in the middle of the table. “Why are you doing this?” You whispered. Gaara moved to stand in front of you so you could see the seriousness in his expression.
“I know one meal can’t make up for the way I’ve been neglecting you, and for my behavior earlier, but I’m going to try, starting now. I was a fool and I could’ve lost you… please forgive me, (Y/N).” You looked away from his intense gaze, your stare once again landing on the delicious-looking meal.
Yes, he’d clearly put effort into this, but you were really hurt by his recent distance towards you. But, he was trying to spend more time with you and it would be counterproductive to deny that, and plus you had dearly missed your boyfriend.
“Okay, Gaara, I believe you,” You stated, looking back into his eyes. Your breath caught at the smile on his face as he sat you in your seat. “I swear, I’m going to make this up to you, (Y/N).” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
Kakashi~
If it wasn’t the constricting wrapping around your stomach and shoulder, you would’ve forgotten about the wounds altogether. The dull aching was nothing in comparison to the stabbing sensation in your chest.
Kakashi had left the day before and there was still no sign of him. You couldn’t help but be antsy. Had he meant everything he said and did he plan on coming back? You were on the couch, struggling to rewrap your wounds with your bad shoulder as you pondered these things.
You hardly flinched as your door opened, choosing to ignore the silverette intruding into your home. It was silent even as he gently took the supplies from your hands and started doing the work himself.
You watched him with a blank expression as he worked, waiting for him to say something. After a few long minutes, he began to speak. “I was horrible last night. There’s no excuse, I know, but… I don’t want you to end up like them and I overreacted. Big time.”
You knew he was talking about all the friends and family he had lost to the shinobi world, and even though you weren’t anywhere near happy, you understood. By now he had finished dressing your wounds and was looking you in the eye. The eye you could see was red and puffy as if he’d been crying.
“I’m really sorry, (Y/N). I won’t ask you to forgive me because frankly, I don’t deserve that right now.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. He eagerly returned it, relieved you were willing to touch him. “You were a real jerk you know.” You stated. He nodded, “I was.” “And I worked really hard to get here, and I’m proud of my abilities,” You continued. He pressed a small kiss to your shoulder.
“As you should be. I really am proud of you too.” You cracked a small smile. “But, I love you, Kakashi, and as long as this doesn’t happen again, I forgive you.” He hugged you tighter, his hair tickling your cheek a little. “It won’t, I swear it to you.” You hummed in response, feeling much lighter than you had minutes before.
~Akatsuki~
Pein~
“To be clear, I think you’re both overreacting. Pein blew a tiny problem out of the water, but you also know how he gets when he’s stressed. He didn’t mean any of that.” You scowled at Itachi’s words, knowing he was probably correct.
“I hate it when you’re right, Itachi. Seriously.” He chuckled at your pout, patting your head. “You should go talk to hi-” You stopped him, with a wave of your hand. “Nope, nope, nope. He was in the wrong, so if he wants to talk, he can come to me and apologize.”
The ravenette looked up before standing up to leave. “Alright, good luck then, (Y/N).” You grabbed his wrist, desperate. “Wait, don’t leave me! I don’t know what to do!”
He raised an eyebrow. “But I just told you to go talk to him?” You let go, groaning. “But I don’t want to!” He sighed, leaving. “You’re whining, (Y/N).”
You stammered, shocked that he was just up and walking away. “So, I guess this is good timing then?” You shrieked, startled as you turned to face the very topic of your last conversation.
“Um...hi?” He sat down next to you, his frown deepening. “I was… wrong, earlier. I apologize for what I said. I wasn’t being fair.” Your jaw dropped in utter astonishment. Never had you ever heard Pein say anything about him being wrong.
“I found out what Hidan said and I’m surprised cut off his head was all you did.” You giggled a little. How could you stay mad when he was humbling himself like this? “He does know the right buttons to push. And I forgive you, I know you’ve been stressed lately, I didn’t mean to add to that.” You leaned your head on his shoulder as you spoke.
“You could never do that, (Y/N). Now, how about we go show Hidan what true pain is?” You just smirked and cracked your knuckles in response.
Deidara~
You had arrived in your room immediately after leaving Deidara and Sasori, but unfortunately, your room was just on the other side of the wall so it wasn’t like you had gone far. It was quiet for a little while, and you occupied yourself with a book you had found lying around the base.
“Sasori no Danna!” You rolled your eyes at Deidara’s frantic shout. Hopefully, nothing was going to explode. “What, brat? I’m working.” “We have to apologize to (Y/N), yeah!” Your attention was peaked now, and you sat against the wall as to not miss anything.
“I will do no such thing. I merely stated an opinion.” You shrugged, you hadn’t expected anything else from Sasori. “But we hurt her feelings, un! Her art is great, yeah!” “You hurt her feelings. You’re her boyfriend.” You heard the redhead click his tongue, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.
“Fine! But will you at least help me, un?!” “Absolutely not. I don’t like abstract and I won’t apologize for it.” You laughed lightly at the puppet’s stubbornness. “Please, Danna, un! I don’t even know why I said those things!” “I don’t know or care. Now go apologize, brat, I can’t take any more of your whining.”
You heard scrambling and then his door opened and closed. You all but jumped back on your bed so you wouldn’t be caught eavesdropping.
The door opened and the nervous blonde stepped in. The second he saw your flushed face, he groaned. “You heard everything didn’t you, hmm?” You sheepishly rubbed your neck. “Thin walls?”
He walked closer, his cheeks tinted red. “I was wrong, (Y/N), un. I’ve never seen you have an off day…” You smiled taking his outstretched hand. “Even though your paintings don’t explode, they are art, yeah. Will you forgive me, hmm?”
Before you could respond, you felt something lick your hand. Deidara snickered. “I think my hand mouths want you to forgive me too, un.”
Giggling, you kissed his cheek. “Well, they should be happy to hear that I do forgive you, Dei. Sasori, on the other hand...” You both smirked, sharing a look that promised trouble.
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Season Two Premier 
Dean Winchester x Reader
Words: 2385
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Summary: At peace with her family, Amara gives Dean a reunion he was never expecting. But Mary isn't the only one she brought back. Now two women must adjust to being in the land of the living, one having been gone for 33 years, and the other having spent the past 365 in hell. 
Notes: I told you I had something planned! Let me know if you’ve missed this series and if you're happy to see more. Responses mean the world. 
-
Amara looked at each picture curiously. She saw Dean as a young boy, smiling brightly in the arms of his mother. The woman that started it all. Her death put him on this course. This painful, dark journey. Amara set the picture aside, noticing something shine from the back of the drawer. 
She took out a small tin box. Inside were more photographs. Amara examined one in particular. It was Dean leaning over the hood of his car. Around his waist were the arms of a laughing woman. He had a glint in his eyes that Amara hadn’t seen. It was then that she understood. Dean would never be with her. He could never join her in her new world. His heart was far, far away. Perhaps she could bring it back to him. 
-
Mary couldn’t get her out of her head. That woman. Who was she? She had looked at her… like she knew her. 
“You okay, mom?” Sam asked, noticing the far off look in her eyes. She had been acting strange, but that was, of course, understandable. She just came back from the dead, for Chuck’s sake. She gave her youngest a small smile. 
“Yeah, I’m just daydreaming, I guess.” She glanced around the kitchen, noticing an absence. “Where’s Dean?” 
“He’s probably going to spend the day in his room.” Sam sighed deeply. “Today is a sort of anniversary for him.” 
“Anniversary? For what?” From the look on her son’s face, it couldn’t be good. Sam sat down and motioned for her to join him. 
“A few years ago- three, to be exact- we lost someone. Dean lost someone.” He clasped his hands together on the table. The wound of losing one of his closest friends had healed some, but it still stung. Especially today. “He loved her. And she loved him. Maybe too much.” He shook his head. It felt like so long ago. 
“Dean found someone?” Mary smiled slightly. She had hoped her boys had been loved by someone, since she wasn’t there. Sam nodded. 
“Yeah, yeah he did.” He tried not to get choked up, but remembering still pained his heart. And for Dean… After losing Jessica, Sam wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. His brother had shouldered it for the past three years, accepting little to no help. He never even talked about her. 
“What happened?” Mary asked softly. Sam opened his mouth to answer, but he didn’t get the chance. 
“She died.” Dean said, having appeared in the doorway without them noticing. He crossed the kitchen and poured himself some coffee before joining them at the table. “Three years ago today.” 
Mary didn’t know what to say. She had more questions, but it didn’t seem like the time to ask them. Sam and Dean both looked… broken. All she could do was offer some kind of comfort. She put a hand on top of each of theirs. 
“I’m sorry.” 
Dean looked into her eyes and she looked into his. They weren’t the same eyes of her bright little boy. They held so much pain, so much loss. She had to tear her gaze away. 
She had only been back for about a week and everything was so overwhelming. She should have been there for them. She should have made sure that they never had to feel this pain. She never wanted them to be hunters. She just wanted them to be boys. 
Dean finished his coffee and retreated to his room. Sam looked like he wanted to say something, but he just sat in uncomfortable silence. Mary’s heart ached. She just wanted them to be boys. 
-
He should be used to losing people by now. In three years, he should have gotten over it. Losing you. But even now, the image of your last smile as the hell hound tore away your flesh was burned into his brain. He would never forget. He opened the drawer of his desk and found the small tin box. 
A quiet knock caught his attention and he turned to see his mother in his doorway. She gave him a small smile. 
“Can I come in?” He nodded in reply and she sat on the edge of his bed. For a moment, she didn’t have the courage to say anything. How would he react? Would he get upset and make her leave? Or would he close up and not say a word? Maybe, hopefully, he would talk to her. He could make her forget how much she had missed. “Can you…” She paused, waiting for a sign to continue. Dean looked at her expectantly. “Can you tell me about her? I know you probably don’t want to talk about her, I just-”
“It’s okay.” He sighed, putting a hand on top of the box on the desk. “Sam’s always saying that if I talk about her, it keeps her alive in a weird, hippy sense of the word.” He shook his head to himself. Mary watched him carefully, making sure she didn’t push any boundaries. 
“What was she like?” Dean thought for a moment. 
“Stubborn.” He chuckled deeply. “If she thought she was right, you’d never get her to budge and she always thought she was right. God, the fights we used to get into…” He paused, recalling a few in particular. “She had a big heart and wasn’t afraid to show it. She was tough and smart and funny and beautiful. Best damn pool hustler I’ve ever seen. That’s actually how we met.” 
Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand over his face, trying to hold back tears. 
“How long were you together?” Mary wondered. He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was staring off into memories. 
“Four years.” He answered quietly. “She- uh- she was there for me when Sam…” This was more than he was ready to talk about with her. How was he supposed to tell his mother that her sons have been to hell? How did he tell her that Y/N was there because of him? He forced his shoulders back and sat up straighter. “Anyway, um, this-” He passed Mary the box of photos. “This is her.” 
Mary opened the tin slowly, peering down at the photographs with a sad curiosity. As she looked through them, her expression changed. She selected one that gave her a clear view of the woman’s face. She was smiling, a beer in hand and a bright glint in her eyes. Dean was beside her, staring at the woman like she was the only thing in the world. Mary’s eyes widened and Dean noticed her body language shift. 
“What is it?” 
“Dean I…” Mary was hesitant, but she knew without a doubt that she was right. “I’ve seen her before.” Dean’s brows knitted together. 
“What?”
“I know this girl.” 
“Mom, that-” Dean sighed, “That isn’t possible. You died before Y/N was three.” Mary handed him the picture. 
“I saw her, Dean.” She insisted. 
The two stared at each other. Mother and son. Dean broke his gaze first. 
“I think Sam needs help in the library.” He said, his voice becoming flat and emotionless. “Please go.” 
“Dean-”
“Mom.” He stared at the wall, his command firm. “Please, just… I need some time alone.” 
Mary didn’t say anything else. She put the pictures back in the box and tried to hand it back to him. When he didn’t make any move to take it, she set in on the desk and left. 
Dean resisted the urge to throw the box across the room. The metal was already dented and battered from other fits throughout the years. Dean just kept his eyes trained on the ground, wrapping his head around his mother’s words. She was wrong. It couldn’t have been Y/N. It just couldn’t. 
-
One Week Ago
“Mary?” You gasped, gaping at the woman across from you. Everything was dark, clouds of black surrounding you from every angle. Through the darkness, you could see a woman you only knew from pictures. A woman that had been dead for over 30 years, or at least she was when you were still on earth. You were surprised you still remembered. 
“Who are you? Where am I?” She asked, eyes wide with uncertain panic. Before you could answer, you felt something pulling you further into the darkness, yanking Mary back in the other direction. 
When you opened your eyes, you were staring at the sky. The real sky. The night sky stretched out, stars shining brightly down at you. So bright you had to shield your eyes. Your skin pricked with every movement. You were cold. You were naked and you were cold. 
You stood slowly, your legs barely able to hold yourself up. The night air sent goosebumps up your bare arms and legs. The dead grass crunched under your feet and you took a deep breath. 
“Very funny, Levina.” You called into the night. This wasn’t the first time the demon had tried to trick you, made you believe that you were free only to pull you back into your torment. “You must be running out of ideas.” You crossed your arms over your chest to try and stay warm. There was no answer. “Levina!” 
“You aren’t in hell anymore.” A voice startled you. You whirled around to see a woman in a black dress looking at you curiously. “Surely, you can tell the difference.” 
“Who are you? What do you want?” You took a defensive stance, backing away as she stepped forward. 
“I’m the one that lifted you from your torment.” She said it like it was obvious. “You’re free now.” 
“You think I’m going to fall for that again?” You scoffed. “You must be getting a little rusty, Lavina. Have to say, I like this face more than the old one.” 
“My name is Amara. We have a friend in common.” 
“Let me guess; Lucifer? Well tell the dark lord if he’s up for round two, I can handle-”
“Dean Winchester.” She interrupted, making you shut up. “He misses you. I want to give you back to him.” 
“Why the hell should I believe you?” You growled. “Dean doesn’t even remember me.” 
“You’re wrong.” She shook her head. This time, when she stepped towards you, you let her. “I can’t erase what they did to you in hell, but I can assure you that you are no longer in their grasp. Find Dean.” With that, she just vanished. Poof. Gone. 
You didn’t have many options, so you just walked. You found a road and mindlessly walked beside it. Every step ached. You had numbed yourself for so long that every gust of wind felt like a thousand tiny needles stabbing your flesh. You weren’t sure if you were capable of feeling anything else. Only pain. 
Headlights drew closer and closer, quickly joined by flashing blues and reds. You didn’t stop walking even when you heard the car door open and close. 
“Ma’am are you alright?” The police officer’s voice cut through the night, but you barely heard it. Your ears just kept ringing with the sound of your own screams. You stopped and turned around. The woman was approaching you slowly with a look of sympathetic concern. Being naked and wide-eyed, it wasn’t hard to read her thoughts. But she had no idea the depth of violation you’d been through. You took a heaving breath. 
“I need to find Dean Winchester.” 
-
Now
“Dean!” Sam called, knocking on his older brother’s bedroom door. “Dean, we need to talk.” 
“Sam, not now.” Dean groaned, opening the door just enough to give him a glare. “I really don’t want to talk or deal with any of your other hippy healing crap.” 
“It’s Jody.” Sam pushed inside without giving him time to object. “She said she needs us in Sioux Falls right away.”
“Did she say why?” 
“No, but she sounded pretty freaked. Apparently, she’s been trying to get a hold of us for a while, but things kept coming up or we weren’t answering.” Sam sighed, running his fingers through his hair. 
“To be fair, our mom came back from the dead and you were being tortured by that British bitch.” Dean countered, feeling guilty for ignoring Jody’s calls. “What did you tell her?” 
“That we’ll be there before morning.” 
Dean nodded in agreement. 
“I’ll pack a bag, you tell mom we’re leaving.” 
“I think she should stay here.” Sam suggested, keeping his voice down like it was a secret. Dean gave him a strange look. 
“What? Why?”
“She needs to adjust, Dean. Maybe giving her just a few days to herself here in the bunker will help her do that. Besides, we don’t know what’s going on and it could be dangerous and I…” He sighed. “I just don’t think she needs any more excitement right now.” Dean thought for a moment before he nodded. 
“Alright, tell her that we’ll hopefully be back in a few days and that she can call us or Jody if she needs anything.” 
By the time the two brothers got packed up and ready to go, a dark feeling had settled deep inside Dean’s chest. Something felt off. It sunk into his lungs and into throat, as if a shadow was trying to strangle him. When Sam climbed into the passenger seat, his brother looked white as a sheet. 
“You okay?” Sam wondered, half tempted to ask if he should drive, but he didn’t want to get punched. 
“Something about this feels wrong, Sam.” Dean muttered, shaking his head as he started the car. 
“What, do you think it’s a trap?” It wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility. With the British Men of Letters and Lucifer out there, it wouldn’t be that shocking that someone was out to get them. But Dean shook his head. 
“I don’t know what it is, but with the buckets of crazy we’ve been through, I don’t think it’s good.” The two let that sink in, pulling out onto the road. Hoping to distract himself, Dean switched on the radio. Both brothers froze as the beginning words made Dean grip the steering wheel. Chuck sure had a cruel sense of humor on today of all days. 
Sister Christian, oh the time has come… 
-
General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks
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Update: Revelations
Chapter 3: Midnight Conversations
Finally an update for Revelations, where Hawke finally finds out about Poppy's experiences with Lord Mazeen and gets big ragey mad about it (because that's what we live for).
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Hawke stalked down the hall mentally checking off the list of things he needed to address with the fire-haired woman he had just caught on the Rise. Gods, where to even begin?
How did you learn to fight?
Why did you learn to fight?
Why were you on the Rise?
Are you absolutely mad?
Do you have no sense of self-preservation?
Do you own no proper clothing so you aren’t fighting Craven in a nightdress and satin slippers?
He’d taken a few minutes to rinse the blood from his armor and his face and out of his hair. The guard had begun his trek back to the Maiden’s chambers as soon as he’d stowed his broadsword.
Yes, they still had so much to discuss. Those questions – and others – swam through his mind as he reached the heavy oak doors. Using a surprising amount of restraint he raised a fist and rapped on the wood. After a few moments the door cracked open, revealing the lady’s maid – Tawny.
“The Maiden is sleeping –“
“Doubtful,” Hawke interrupted, amused at the untruth. He lowered his chin and gave the lady a pointed look, but she didn’t open the door wider. So he pushed through the opening, mouth quirking as Tawny stood agape. He kicked the door closed and fixed his gaze on Poppy, who’s jaw had also dropped in apparent astonishment. As if she should be surprised to see him there. “It’s time for that talk, Princess.”
The guard cast a glance toward Tawny, jerking his chin in the direction of the door. “Your services are no longer needed this evening.”
“You don’t have the authority to dismiss her!”
Hawke turned is gaze back to the Maiden whose pale cheeks and emerald eyes were alight with ire. He raised a brow. “I don’t? As your personal Royal Guard, I have the authority to remove any threats.” He barely suppressed a dark chuckle at the notion that Poppy’s lady’s maid could pose any real danger.
“Threats?” Tawny’s lips curled down. “I’m not a threat.”
“You pose the threat of making up excuses or lying on behalf of Penellaphe. Just like you said she was asleep when I know for a fact that she was on the Rise,” Hawke retorted. The maid inhaled sharply and whipped toward the Maiden.
“I have a feeling I’m missing an important piece of information,” she accused. An amused grin lifted the corner of Hawke’s lips.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you. And it wasn’t that important,” Poppy argued. Not that important? Oh how she wounded him.
He snorted. “I’m sure it was one of the most important things to have happened to you in a long time.”
“You have an over-inflated sense of involvement in my life if you really think that.”
“I think I have a good grasp on just how much of a role I play in your life,” Hawke deadpanned. Indeed. Her first kiss, the first time she’d even been touched by a man. But it was more than just the carnal urges that had brought them together that first night. He was, as far as he could tell, the only person who was willing to address what the Duke had been doing to her. He felt… drawn to her, felt a nearly overwhelming need to protect her inside this structure of stone and cruelty – one place where she was not able to protect herself.
“Doubtful.” She turned the word back on him and he could barely keep from rolling his eyes.
“I do wonder if you actually believe half the lies you tell.”
“I am not lying, thank you very much.” Gods, she was so stubborn.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Princess,” he breathed with a grin.
Poppy scowled. “Don’t call me that!” she exclaimed with a stomp of her foot. The guard lifted a brow at her, pouting his lips.
“Did that make you feel good?”
“Yes!” she cried. “Because the only other option is to kick you.”
There it was again, the need to fight roiling beneath her skin. That did something to him, sparking a flame deep in his belly. He chuckled. “So violent.”
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I’m your personal guard. I can be wherever I feel I am needed to keep you safe,” he stated. Hawke wished she weren’t so argumentative. He just wanted to talk to her, to understand her – dig deeper into her strength.
“And what do you think you need to protect me from in here?” She flung her arms out, gesturing to the empty room. “An unruly bedpost I might stub my toe on? Oh, wait, are you worried I might faint? I know how good you are at handling such emergencies.”
The Atlantian smirked. He knew she had been irritated that afternoon in the atrium, as the ladies in wait resorted to ever escalating heights of ridiculousness to garner his attention. He was like a shiny new toy, a handsome new Rise guard from the capital. If only Poppy knew that his attention was ever only centered on her.
“You do look a little pale. My ability to catch frail, delicate females may come in handy,” he countered, earning an enraged inhale. “But as far as I can determine, other than a random abduction attempt, you, Princess, are the greatest threat to yourself.”
“Well…” her lady’s maid drew out contemplatively. At least one of them was reasonable. “He kind of has a point there.”
“You’re absolutely no help,” Poppy spat.
Hawke softened his voice slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on her gaze that was green like Atlantian spring. “Penellaphe and I do need to speak. I can assure you that she is safe with me, and I’m sure that whatever I’m about to discuss with her, she’ll tell you all about it later.”
“Yes, she will, but that’s not nearly as entertaining as witnessing it.”
She was quite the spitfire, as well. The Maiden sighed.
“It’s okay, Tawny. I’ll see you in the morning.” She almost groaned.
Tawny was incredulous. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I have a feeling that if you don’t leave he’s just going to stand there and drain precious air from my room –“
“While looking exceptionally handsome,” Hawke interjected. “You forgot to add that.” Poppy rolled her eyes, but her lady’s maid giggled.
“And I would like to get some rest before the sun rises,” she finished. Likely story that was, coming from the woman who had just left her bed to fight monsters on the city walls.
Tawny heaved an exasperated sigh. “Fine,” she muttered. Hawke glanced at her as she moved to leave. “Princess.”
His lips curled up in a devilish smile. Spitfire, indeed.
“Oh, my gods,” Poppy groaned. He waited for the lady’s maid to exit through the adjoining door before showing his delight.
“I like her.” Hawke grinned.
“Good to know. What is it you wish to talk about that couldn’t wait until the morning?”
As he looked back to her his breath caught. He’d always known that she was a lovely specimen, but seeing her before him in that thin nightgown and red hair unconfined and falling wildly above her shoulders. She truly was magnificent.
“You have beautiful hair,” he murmured. She just blinked, and he could see that she hadn’t been expecting that. He was glad to have been able to take her by surprise.
“Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“Not exactly,” he shrugged and then allowed his eyes to very obviously roam over her barely-clothed body. The skin of her shoulders looked so soft, the dip at the base of her neck between her collar bones so inviting. The swells of her ample breasts were barely hidden, and the soft fabric clung loosely over her stomach and hips. And of course those pretty thighs and sculpted calves. She looked absolutely delectable, and the way the flush exploded over her flesh as she felt his gaze feel every curve caused his pants to tighten. She moved to grab the robe that was strewn across the bed and the corner of Hawke’s mouth curved devilishly.
And then she stopped, a challenge settling into those emerald pools as they met his. Ah, yes, she knew he’d already seen most of what her sleeping gown revealed, and a tremor of admiration rippled through him when she straightened, choosing not to hide herself from him.
“Was that all you were wearing under the cloak?” Hawke asked, balking at how utterly insane she must be. Truly.
“That’s none of your concern,” Poppy answered hotly.
“Feels like it should be.” His voice was raspier than he’d intended, throat tight from the vision before him. “I meant what I said that day. The Duke and the Lord told you that it was a lie, but it wasn’t. You are absolutely beautiful.” He noticed the widening of her eyes, the pace of her breathing increase. Again he had caught her off guard, although rage boiled through him with the knowledge that no one had allowed her to even consider the truth of her devastating beauty.
Poppy’s body seemed to sag all at once as she sighed and turned away from him, padding to one of the chairs by the fire. Hawke followed her with a burning gaze, unable to avoid how the slit in her nightgown revealed nearly her entire leg when she walked. Gods, she was going to be the end of him. He fucking knew it.
He followed and stood next to the chair across from her, watching as the reflection of the fire made her eyes appear to glow silver, how her body seemed to now bow into itself. She had fought so well – had knocked him on his ass – but it had only been two days since her punishment at the hands of Duke Teerman.
And Lord Mazeen.
The guard was determined that he would get answers this night. He would find out what the lord was doing in that room, what his interest in Poppy truly was. The oily, heavy feeling deep in his stomach told him that he wouldn’t like the answer.
But he knew he couldn’t just come out and ask, not considering how she’d try to deny the obvious torment even when he could see it with his own eyes and scent it on her skin. He would have to weave his way expertly through their conversation, through her defenses and over her walls.
“I’ve been thinking. About what you said.” Poppy turned her chin to him, the emeralds in her gaze finding him as he remained standing. Hawke was stunned that she had initiated the conversation, and even more taken aback by her quiet, steady tone. It was so unlike her.
“What I said?” he urged before gesturing to the chair. “May I?”
“You told me to think about the things they did. The Duke, the Ascended. To trust my instincts. And I,” she paused, turning her stare back into the fire, “I think Lord Mazeen had something to do with Malessa’s death.”
Hawke had settled into the chair, forearms resting on his knees, when his eyes snapped up. “Why do you think that?”
“He had… he had just come into the hall from that direction. Before she was discovered. He smelled of jasmine, and there was a petal left there. And he seemed… enthralled. He wouldn’t stop staring at her, with her skirts hiked up and her corset pulled down.” Poppy continued boring her eyes into the flames, as if the fire might give her the answers. He observed her with narrowing eyes, absorbing every word, every implication. “It felt so wrong, the way he stared at her. Nobody did anything to shield her, to give her even the smallest shred of dignity in death. But Lord Mazeen… he couldn’t seem to look away.” She looked down at her hands, then, alabaster fingers fidgeting in her lap. Hawke looked down at them, too, carefully considering her words. And only one thing continued to echo in his mind as the silence around them seemed to swallow him whole. One thought that needed only a spark to ignite a killing rage, one question that needed to be answered even though he knew it might boil him alive to hear it.
“How do you know what he smelled like?” Ice laced the words, a quiet promise of torment and death.
Hawke’s voice was usually warm, mirthful. He enjoyed their arguing, liked getting a rise out of her. But this question… the answer that could confirm that the lord – with his reputation for lust and degradation – was close enough to Poppy so she could smell him…
His shrewd eyes noticed everything, like the predator he had trained himself to be since his return to Solis. Her fingers stilled, jaw clenched, shoulders tensed. The redhead was immediately on guard, and Hawke understood with disturbing clarity that the lord would be a difficult subject.
“Poppy.” He whispered a warning. He could see the noiseless tells as she was trying to work through an explanation to feed him, to placate him. With a snarl he rose and strode the short distance between them. Grasping her chin between his thumb and finger he jerked her head to face him. “Don’t you dare lie to me.” Those green eyes flashed in promising defiance, then guttered to a dull, fathomless dark. And for a moment the Maiden before him was just a girl – lost, confused, alone, abused.
Gods, that look broke his heart.
Hawke released her chin and lowered to his knees in front of her, their eyes still locked on the other’s. He hesitated for a breath before reaching to cover her hands with his.
“I swore to protect you, Poppy. But if I am to do that, I need you to be completely honest with me. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what or who is causing you harm.”
She laughed bitterly, turning her gaze back to the flames. “Nobody can protect me from the Duke. From Lord Mazeen. The power they wield, the way they manipulate. I told you before – there’s nothing to be done.”
“Just because nobody has protected you doesn’t mean that I cannot,” he urged, nearly growling with her unwitting admission that the lord was yet another danger. His heart pounded in his chest as he murmured desperately, “What has he done to you?”
He could feel her racing heartbeat in her fingers, could hear it echoing through the hanging silence. His grip tightened, and Poppy’s spring green eyes slid to him.
“Please, Poppy. Let me help you.”
He was in too deep with her, he knew. But there was something about her, something he couldn’t understand. Sure, he could write it off as a decent man seeing a woman who needed help, who wouldn’t stand by while someone innocent was mistreated.
But it was more than that.
And after he’d seen her cutting down Craven on the Rise? A goddess of violence and beauty. He was irrevocably tangled in her web.
“The night Malessa died, Lord Mazeen stopped me in the hall coming from that direction. I had been on my way to the garden with Rylan, but he said he wanted to speak to me. Privately.” Poppy walked through her story with firm determination, nary a tremble detectable in her voice. “He pulled me into an alcove to the side of the hall and began his games. He knew that I knew that I didn’t have a choice. As the Maiden I am not supposed to linger or speak with anyone, but it would also be disrespectful not to participate in the conversation. One word to the Duke for either offense and…”
“And you get called to his study to satisfy his sadistic whims,” he finished the sentence after she trailed off, earning a terse nod. He hated it, hated them. He would kill the Duke for what he’d done, as slowly and painfully as he could.
“Lord Mazeen was taking the opportunity to… remind me… that his position was such that he was above reproach. He… he lifted his hand to my face, touched my cheek, my lips, down over my jaw and neck and… lower.”
Hawke breathed a curse, rage coiling tightly into a spring poised to snap. He squeezed her hands tighter but then let go, fearful that his grip may become painful as his ire grew. Instead he gripped the cushion on either side of her knees, trying to reign in his immortal strength as he kept his gaze fixed on eyes of shimmering green. Her throat bobbed.
“I tried to excuse myself and leave, but he pulled me back to him. His hand was still at my chest, my back against his front. I could… feel him.” Poppy took a deep breath, as if to steady herself. “I always knew he delighted in making me uncomfortable, but I don’t think I realized…”
She shook her head, finally breaking the link between their eyes as her lashes lowered. “That’s how I know he smelled of jasmine. I was able to run away when someone screamed – when they found Malessa.”
Hawke looked down at his hands, knuckles white has his fingers dug into the plush forest green upholstery. Would Lord Mazeen have dared to go further? It wasn’t much of a leap from his slimy touch to further violation. His vision blurred, his chest a chasm of disturbing realizations and maddening what-ifs. He only knew that he was still breathing because he could hear it – labored, sawing breaths. He grounded himself by focusing on her face – the raised pink skin of the Craven scars, the full luscious lips, the smooth porcelain of her flesh that he reached out to touch. Fingers traced over her cheek and jaw before pushing gently under her chin, her eyes raising to look back at him.
“And what about when you are summoned by the Duke. Is he always there, too?”
Poppy’s breathing stuttered, eyes widening as they lined with silver.
“I told you I heard everything, Poppy,” he murmured as his thumb drifted over her skin. “What was he doing there?”
When a tear escaped over her lashes, it was like the world shifted under his feet. When had everything become so fucked up and twisted? He’d always known the Ascended were monsters, but knowing that those two beasts took such great pains to back the Maiden into a corner, with no possible way to escape their sadistic attention… It made his stomach roil.
Slowly, so she would not be caught off guard, he lifted his fingers from her chin to wipe away the droplet that slowly fell over her cheek. Taking a calming breath, he encouraged, “You can trust me, Princess. I know it’s hard to do, and I know that I have only been at your side for a few days. But it is abhorrent that nobody in this Godsdamned castle has tried to shield you from these predators and I will not let it stand a moment longer. I swear it to you, Penellaphe. With my sword and my life, I vow to protect you. Not the Maiden,” he spat, “not the Duke or the Duchess or any of the lords and ladies, not this Godsforsaken castle or anyone else in it. I said your name. I promised you.”
She stared at him, expression calculating, weighing his declaration. Hawke pulled his hand away, resting it against her knee. He braced himself as she swallowed, preparing to speak.
“Lord Mazeen began taking a special interest in Duke Teerman’s lessons a few years ago. He likes to watch.” The redhead paused, gaze returning to her hands. She had started wringing her fingers again when she continued, “The Duke requires me to disrobe to my waist. He prefers to strike bare skin.”
Holy fucking gods. Hawke forced himself to breathe, keeping his eyes trained on her reddening cheeks and dreading that she had more still to tell.
“I lean against his desk to support myself, and in my state of undress I will hold myself up with one arm and try to cover myself with the other as much as I can,” her voice cracked. He could feel the heat wafting from her skin, face flushing with shame. He never could have prepared himself for how complete her degradation had been at the Duke’s cruel hands. “The last time,” she whispered, “it wasn’t enough for Lord Mazeen to just sit there. He… stood in front of me. Leered at me. He pulled my arm away from my chest and held my hands to the desk… so he could look his fill as the Duke took the cane to my back.”
Hawke was frozen, staring at Poppy’s bowed head. He could smell the salt of her tears as they silently coursed down her cheeks, glowing gold in the firelight. Gritting his teeth, nostrils flaring, a snarl rose from his throat. His head was empty of all thoughts, save for the need to massacre the monster. But the shimmering of her crimson locks grounded him, and he lowered his forehead to her knees as he struggled to calm his racing, raging heart. Air hissed from between his teeth, the sound of his ragged breaths roaring in his ears, and he could feel his fingernails clawing through the fabric that covered her cushioned seat.
“Poppy,” he groaned desperately. “I need you to talk. About anything else. I need – I need to find a way to calm down.” The guard’s shoulders tremored with coiled rage.
“Hawke?” Her soft voice pierced through the night. “I don’t understand.”
“The only thing keeping me from finding that worthless pile of refuse and tearing him limb from limb is knowing that I can’t protect you if I’m swinging from the gallows,” he seethed through clenched teeth. “Please, Poppy. I need–“
Any remaining air whooshed out of his lungs when he felt timid, trembling fingers combing through the ends of his hair. Immediately his muscles relaxed, shoulders bowing in. When he lifted his gaze she snatched her hand back, cradling it to her chest.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped. The corner of his mouth tipped up.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?”
Poppy’s breath caught, but her eyes stuck on his. Green, like an Atlantian spring. They were beautiful and clear and shining. Hawke felt like he couldn’t look away, and he wondered for a moment – maybe even hoped – if she felt just as entranced as he did.
“What is?”
“How it feels like I’ve known you longer. You feel that, too,” he answered. That gentle tickle of her fingers in his hair, a caress of care and a promise of… whatever this was. It was as if they had always shared such familiarity. But then her hands dropped into her lap, eyes following. “Why were you on the Rise?”
“Wasn’t it obvious?”
Hawke’s grin grew. “Your motivation wasn’t. At least, tell me that. Tell me what drove you to go up there to fight them.” She paused, casting her stare into the fire as she contemplated.
“The scar on my face. Do you know how I got it?” she asked.
Of course he did. It had been one of the many, many things Vikter had seen fit for him to know. “Your family was attacked by some Craven when you were a child.”
“Vikter filled you in?” Poppy smiled slightly, but it didn’t crawl into her eyes. “It’s not the only scar.”
Hawke didn’t respond to that, but he mentally scowled. More scars meant even less perfection, more opportunities for the Duke and the rest of the Ascended to remind her that she was somehow less. It grated at him.
The Maiden told the story of her family. How the town only had a short wall to protect them, but that it hadn’t seen Craven in decades. That seemed odd. And then how someone had somehow saved her and her brother.
“I woke up days later, back in the capital. Queen Ileana was by my side. She told me what had happened. That our parents were gone.”
He’d had to carefully school his features at the mention of the Blood Queen. To Poppy she had been a guardian, someone she could trust. To Hawke she had been a nightmare. He hoped to the gods that Poppy would understand one day. Regardless, he understood what it was to lose people that he loved. And for her to have been so young. It was truly tragic.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I truly am. It’s a miracle you survived.”
“The gods protected me. That’s what the Queen told me. That I was Chosen. I came to learn later that it was one of the reasons the Queen had begged my mother and father not to leave the safety of the capital. That… that if the Dark One became aware of the Maiden being unprotected, he’d send the Craven after me. He wanted me dead then, but apparently, he wants me alive now.” She laughed bitterly as Hawke quietly analyzed what she’d said. The implication of the Dark One in her family’s attack stood out to him, as he had never been able to control the Craven, much less send them to kill an innocent red-haired girl.
“What happened to your family is not your fault, and there could be any number of reasons for why they attacked that village,” he urged softly as he reached up to tuck a loose tendril of fire behind her ear. “What else do you remember?”
“No one… no one in that inn knew how to fight. Not my parents, none of the women, or even the men. They all relied on the handful of guards,” she explained. It wasn’t necessarily surprising – yet another way the Ascended were able to keep the mortals under their heel. “If my parents knew how to defend themselves, they could’ve survived. It might’ve been just a small chance, but one nonetheless.”
It made so much sense. So much so that Hawke scolded himself for not understanding sooner. “And you want that chance.”
“I won’t… I refuse to be helpless.”
“No one should be.”
And it struck him, then, the double meaning behind his reply. She had taken the steps to ensure that she could defend herself. She was highly skilled, enough to have knocked him on his ass. And brave to the point of recklessness. And yet, inside that hellish study, she may as well have been any lady in wait – with no skill or training or hope of escaping whatever the Duke planned for her. It was so, so wrong.
“You saw what happened tonight. They reached the top of the Rise. If one makes it over, more will follow. No Rise is impenetrable and even if it were, mortals come back from outside the Rise cursed. It happens more than people realize,” Poppy rambled. The guard tamed his expression, careful not to react to yet another unintended confession. He had heard rumors that the child of the gods would assist in providing a dignified passing to those who had been bitten. A day or two ago he never would have believed that it was the Maiden, that the chosen one would commit treason to ease the suffering of those cursed. But now… he truly wasn’t surprised. “At any moment, that curse could spread in this city. If I’m going down-“
“You’ll go down fighting,” he finished for her. When she nodded he mirrored it. “Like I said, you’re very brave.”
“I don’t think it’s bravery,” she muttered. “I think it’s… fear.”
“Fear and bravery are often one and the same. It either makes you a warrior or a coward. The only difference is the person it resides inside.” And he knew which one she was, without question. Hawke leaned back, settling himself to sit before her on the ornate rug. It took her longer than usual to respond.
“You sound so many years older than what you appear,” she answered quietly. Gods, if only she knew.
“Only half the time. You saved lives tonight, Princess.” He leaned his forearms upon his knees and peered up at her.
“But many died.”
“Too many,” he agreed. “The Craven are a never-ending plague.” Poppy sighed.
“As long as an Atlantian lives, there will be Craven.” It was all he could do not to roll his eyes. He would have to be as patient as he could for her to see the truth. But that didn’t mean he had to listen to the slander.
“That is what they say,” he answered dryly, turning golden eyes to the fireplace. “You said that more come back from outside the Rise cursed than people realize. How do you know that?”
“I’ve heard rumors,” she offered, voice slightly higher than normal. He could hardly suppress a grin. She really was a terrible liar.
“It’s not spoken about a lot, and when it is, it’s only whispered.” Hawke’s eyes drifted back to find blazing, defiant green.
“You’re going to need to be more detailed.”
He lifted a brow. He already had her backed into a corner, but if she insisted… “I’ve heard that the child of the gods has helped those who are cursed. That she has aided them, given them death with dignity.” The guard studied the Maiden, mussed hair waterfalling over her shoulders and burning against her ivory skin. Her body was rigid with tension, an easy indication that she had been caught. And yet all he could really think about was how her flesh would feel beneath his fingers, against his lips.
“Who has said such things?”
Hawke shrugged. “A few of the guards. I didn’t believe them at first, to be honest.” And that was the gods-honest truth.
“Well, you should’ve stuck with your initial reaction They’re mistaken if they think I would commit outright treason against the Crown,” Poppy huffed, earning a snort from her guard. She lifted a defiant eyebrow in question.
“You’re a terrible liar, Princess.” Indeed, it was any wonder she was ever able to placate the Duke and Duchess. He continued before she could argue, “And I understand why you would. Those men speak of you with such awe that before I even met you, I half expected you to be a child of the gods. They would never report you.” He wondered for a moment if there truly was more to her, somehow. That she could be beautiful and courageous and strong and also… more.
“That may be the case,” she retorted, “but you heard them talking about it. Others could hear them, as well.”
“Perhaps I should be clearer in what I said about hearing rumors. They were actually speaking to me,” Hawke explained, fixing her with a pointed golden stare. “Since I too have helped those who are cursed die with dignity. I did so in the capital and do so here, as well.” Her plump lips parted in surprise, and he desired so badly to touch them with his own.
“Those who come back cursed have already given all for the kingdom. Being treated as anything other than the heroes they are, and being dragged in front of the public to be murdered is the last thing they or their families should have to go through.” Hawke lifted himself from his seat on the floor, brushing invisible lint from his breeches as he basked in the light of the surprise shining in her emerald eyes. Rendered speechless. How unusual. “I’ve kept you up long enough.” With a dip of his chin he started toward the heavy wooden door. He had made it a few paces before her voice called to him.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He paused and turned back to her, but she was still facing the fire. All he could see was the fiery mane above the back of her chair.
“Of course.”
“I know that what Duke Teerman and Lord Mazeen do to me is wrong. I know that. And I know that I am trained, and that I could fight back – but I don’t, because it would be catastrophic for Vikter. But…” Her voice trailed off a moment as she seemed to search for words. “I… I could have stopped Lord Mazeen. I could have cut off his most precious, private possession when he tried to touch me. But I didn’t.” Another long, heavy pause. She turned her head so he could see her profile, a silhouette before the flames.
“Does that… what does that say about me?”
Hawke’s shoulders sagged, heart cracking yet again. “The only thing it says, Poppy, is that you are in an impossible situation. That you are locked so tightly in a cage that they have given you no hope for escape. And yet you still stretch your limbs to protest it, in your way, and with great and grave potential consequence. And that is extremely brave.” The guard ran a hand through his unruly dark hair. “And the fact that you bear those consequences – not willingly, but to protect someone you care about – is perhaps even more courageous. You should feel no shame for that.”
With a nod she turned back to the fire. He was hopeful that he had convinced her that it meant nothing beyond the notion that the Ascended were monsters, and that they did nothing but abuse her and use her as a symbol to keep the citizenry in their thrall.
“Get some rest, Princess.” His paces carried him to the door, and as it creaked open under his had he paused again. “And wear better shoes the next time you go out onto the Rise. And thicker clothing. Those slippers are likely to be the death of you, and that dress… the death of me.”
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my attempt at fanfiction it is smutty
(also in azriels perspective)
azriel was leaning against the ledge of the balcony at the river house, a glass of wine in his hand and his gaze far away. he stared out at the city he loved and the sidra beneath him when he heard a shuffle of feet , a small bang and a nasty curse.
“hi love,” he said into the air, putting his glass down. gwyn blushes and bites her lip, sliding underneath him so his arms are wrapped around her. he is content to just stand there as they watch the humming city. his head quieted and his swirling shadows calmed as they tended to do in her presence. az could feel the mating bond glowing between them strong but soft and sweet like an endless melody. he heard the song between their soul’s mine, it seemed to say, you are mine and I am yours.
gwyn breaks the silence asking what he’s doing out here and he tells her “it’s funny I’ve been doing this for 500 years and even now it can be overwhelming.”
she nods “every so often I feel like it would be so much easier to just go back into the library and hide from all this.” she gestures to the lit-up city in front of them.
“gwyn” he turns her head around so she’s looking at him “you know that if you wanted to go back I would fully support you. I’d miss you like crazy but I’d support you.” and she gives him a broad smile, the one that makes his heart pound and his head dizzy.
“I know but I am ready to live and I want to do it with you.” he smiles but words don’t feel like enough so instead he grabs her hand, spins her around, pulling her close to him, and kisses her. letting his actions tell her everything his words can’t and when she kisses him back his head is dizzy and he knows he could get drunk on the feeling. like he’s the question and she’s the answer, as if he had been singing the same hopeless song for 500 years and than she came and gave it life. gwyn let out a soft gasp and with that single sound, he knows he could come undone.
they break apart for a second and she looks at him in a way that only she, ever has, with her hands around his neck, face rosy with a healthy flush “I love you az.” his heart strains and he understands now, that this is love, this is real, and he had never been in love before. not in a way that mattered. azriel knows they should stay but can’t find it in himself to waste this moment so he wraps them in his shadows and winnows them to his secret apartment, the one that not even rhys knows about. he turns them and pushes her against the wall with a scarred hand pressed against the stone and the other stroking her jaw. he moves it up and with the barest whisper of a touch, traces the constellations in her freckles. getting lost in the intensity of her teal eyes and the feeling of her skin he forgets to respond so she tilts her head expectantly.
he laughs, the sound deep and real “I love you too.” gwyn raises her eyebrows as if to say go on and azriel can’t believe he ever felt a fraction of what he felt for her, for anyone else “I love the way your nose scrunches when you get excited. I love your smile and the way you light up every room you walk into. I love that you’re a competitive asshole.” she looks at him with mock hurt and he brushes a hair from her face. “I love the face you make when I catch you reading smut and you pretend you aren’t. I love how brave you are.” his voice turns huskier and drenched with arousal. “I love how you taste.” he licks his lips. grazing her ear with his teeth “I love the way you moan when I’m inside you.” gwyn lets out a whimper. az smirks “yeah just like that.”
“Are you sure we should’ve left?” gwyn asks halfheartedly, her eyes avoiding him. he grips her chin softly but firmly to make her look at him. he brushes a finger over the curve of her mouth and she brings her tongue out to meet it. the sight makes his cock strain against the confines of his pants. he can smell the change in her scent, the sweetness of her arrousal and his pants tighten further.
his eyebrows raise full of amusement and lust, “oh yeah this is much more important.”
she bites her lip “mmm”
“now will you let me go back to listing all of the reasons I love you,” he says as he trails kisses from her jaw going lower and lower. he lifts her shirt to reveal her chest.
“we might be here a-ohh” she moans not getting a chance to finish her sentence as az traces her nipple with his tongue. gwyn began to squirm but az held her arms tight above her head keeping her pinned as he sucked her tit while squeezing the other, feeling them go hard. he sucked and sucked, never wanting to stop hearing the sound of gwyn moaning, of her beneath him. she manages to get a hand free and immediately it goes to her slit but az bats it away. he lets out a low snarl, looks her in the eye and shakes his head.
“az” she pleads
“someone’s greedy today” he hums, still sucking. finally, he lifts his head only to capture her mouth in a possessive kiss as he carries them to their bed. he lays her down, gets on his knees, and purrs “I am going to worship you like never before”
“you better get to it then” gwyn tries to smirk but instead it comes out breathy. az chuckles as he trails his fingers up and down her thigh, every time getting closer and closer to her slit. finally, he moves his hand up and traces it as lightly as possible, emitting a shutter from gwyn. he starts to stroke her, avoiding her clit, wanting to enjoy gwyn’s reaction before tasting her because he knows once he starts he may never be able to stop. all at once az brings his head toward her and licks that one spot while simultaneously slipping a finger inside her. his tongue making deliciously slow circles while his hand pumps to the same rhythm. slowly but surely he begins to build up speed and pressure, going faster and faster, in and out and in and out. gwyns breath quickens and one hand grips the sheets while the other runs through his raven black hair, pushing him into her, desperately trying to get more friction. he happily obliged and then with a final push she jumped over the edge and climaxed, cumming on his expert tongue. he continued to flick and pump her past completion. her body squirming on the bed, her back arching in pleasure.
finally, he stood up with an expression only an arrogant cocky male could make “satisfied” the question was laced with a challenge he knew gwyn could never ignore. he unbuckled his pants ready to take control but instead, gwyn stood up with newfound energy. her stealth and speed could rival the spymaster in front of her.
she slipped in front of him enjoying the shock on her mates face. in his eyes, she read the question and with a devilish smirk, she responded “I guess you taught me well” and she pushed him down on the bed. he fell back with ease, az would swear that everything about this amazing female made him go weak in the knees. just one look, just one sniff of her amazing scent, just one taste and he could crumble. gwyn looked at his shadows pointedly as if she was speaking to them. his confusion must have shown because her smirk only broadened. suddenly he felt his hands being whipped back towards the headboard. he turned to look and it had seemed his shadows had pinned his hands, leaving him at her mercy. he felt his cock stiffen. holy shit he thought, the fantasy suddenly a reality. she walked to a dresser to the side of the bed, swinging her hips in the way she knew made him crazy. his eyes tracked her every movement as he licked his lips. she opened the doors and pulled out two colorful bands that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. one blue, the color of his siphons, the other a vibrant teal, the color of her eyes. ribbons he realized with no small amount of delight, they were ribbons. his shadows released his right hand only for gwyn to replace their grip. she took it into her own and kissed the scars, as though to remind him he was no longer alone. gwyn then took the cobalt blue ribbon and tied his hand to the post. instead of going around, she straddled his waist to get to the other side of the bed. his breathing hitched.
az licked his lips, his throat going dry. “oh the things I would do to you if my arms weren’t pinned”
gwyn hopped off his lap as quickly as she hopped on going to his other arm. “like” she teased back.
“well I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk straight,” he said simply.
gwyn felt the increasing wetness begin to drip down her thighs but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, “that is a very enticing offer, one that I will happily reclaim later but” she drawled
“but” he repeated.
she waited a moment, basking in the anticipation, then she trailed her arm down his toned body brushing it against his cock. she felt it twitch and heard az groan, gwyn grinned sweetly
“but today we play by my rules”
az felt it twitch again, the competitive asshole in him prayed she hadn’t seen but of course she noticed and her smirk was nothing short of feral. this, of course, did not help his raging hard-on and only managed to make him somehow want her more. now on the other side of the bed gwyn took his left hand and repeated the same steps she had taken on his right. kissing his hands and then tying it to the post with the teal ribbon. gwyn looked over him with a satisfied glance, “my ribbon” she teased in a sultry voice. she moved to the end of the bed, her body emitting a slight glow while azriel's shadows arranged themselves atop gwyn’s head to form a crown of shadows. she looked like a goddess, his goddess. gwyn ran her hand up and down the front of his pants, slowly undoing and pulling them off. she bent down and looked up at her mate, and said “try to last will you” azriel barely heard her as all he could think about was his throbbing cock and the female tormenting him. he tried to come up with a witty retort but then gwyn leaned in, took her tongue, and licked up the startling length of him, circling the head, shocking him from his thoughts. she teased and teased always going just a tad too light and slow. az tried to lift his hips but found he couldn’t. gwyn must have spelled the ribbons. his head was proud but his cock was pissed. gwyn smirked as if she knew what he was thinking. azriel let out a deep groan. the sound snapped her self-control and she took him into her mouth while using her hand to stroke the shaft. she bobbed her head up and down. az bucked knowing he couldn’t last much longer, one more stroke, one more lick and he knew it would have been over but instead, gwyn hopped off him, just stopping. he let out a complaint but it was muffled by gwyn seizing his lips with her own. the kiss was sweet but deadly and took azriel’s breath in a way he never knew was possible. gwyn lifted her head, grazing her teeth along his ear while her hand found its way to his dick. she stroked once as she whispered “cum for me”. with those dirty words from the cruel mouth of the female he loved more than life itself azriel exploded. released hit him like an avalanche, pleasure unlike any he’s ever known. he groaned her name and couldn’t remember his own. gwyn winked and said “I win” the magic holding him back broke and he smiled and flipped gwyn over holding her gaze.
her breath hitched and he smirked “not just yet.” gwyn laughed, her smile shining as he looked into his mates eyes, her hands around his neck. he lined himself up with her and slowly pushed in, letting her adjust to his length and girth. she bit her lip but a little moan still managed to escape.
“az” she groaned. he began to move inside her, forgetting where she ended and he began. he moved at a leisurely pace as if they had all the time in the world. gwyn wrapped her legs around his waist and flipped them over putting her on top.
“dominate little creature” he purred. she rode him fast with his hips lifting to meet hers, the mating bond a living breathing thing between them. it was a never-ending song between their souls, glowing. his shadows swirled around them, entangling themselves in gwyn’s hair and up and down her arms and legs as if they were home. as she rode him, she took his hands into hers and brought them up to her chest.
she looked him in the eye and said the words he had been waiting for 500 years to hear
“you’re mine”
together they came in ecstasy. pleasure racing through their conjoined bodies leaving them nothing short of fulfilled. azriel gripped her waist while gwyn arched into his touch. each other’s names, the only words they knew. both of them drunk on happiness.
gwyn jumped off az and fell back onto the enormous bed. they turned to look at each other. az ran his fingers through her soft flaming hair, twirling it between his fingers as though he was content to do so all day. he leaned with his lips hovering above hers and whispered “you’re mine too.”
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okay-j-hannah · 3 years
Text
All’s Fair In Love And War
The Marauders : Fic
Sirius x Reader and James x Reader!Platonic 
Word Count: 3492
Warnings: ANGST my guy... copious amounts of ANGST but with a happily ever after 😊
Request: “Dudee! May the best man win was awesome! Please give us a part two of Y/N ignoring them so hard and making them regret!” - Anon
A/N:
Part 1: May The Best Man Win
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Remus tapped his quill incessantly into his desk, unable to concentrate on his exam. A few rows away he could see Peter staring at his parchment with his fidgeting hands in his lap. He had no idea where to begin with the list of questions.
Beside him was James, a sight to behold. Not wishing to be caught by McGonagall, he only snuck a few glances at his pale friend. James was disheveled, his hair unkempt as ever but with something more unnerving – as if he didn’t even care to look at it, brush it. The effort appeared to be in his school uniform, at least he managed to fold his collar despite how wrinkled the rest of his shirt was. His tie was loose, and it remained the reason Remus knew his friend was still breathing, cause he could see it rising and falling on his chest.
He was just sitting so still. He was staring into nothing. The circles under his eyes could rival Remus’ around a full moon.
And adjacent to him was an empty desk, one that should be housing Sirius. He hadn’t even shown up for their end of year exam.
Remus sighed, feeling his quill tip dull under the pressure he prodded. At least James was able to show. He had no doubt Sirius was brooding in the corner of the common room, butterbeer in hand. Or else he was sitting beside the Blake Lake, toes turning blue as he stuck his feet in the water.
Yes, at least James came to the Great Hall to take his exam, even if he wasn’t looking at the parchment. Remus knew he was staring at the pair of girls at the other end of the hall.
There was (Y/N) and her friend Mary, each scribbling along their exams as the rest of the students should be. McGonagall began walking between the desks and Remus returned his gaze to his own scroll of transfiguration questions.
It had been a few weeks since those dreaded Easter holidays and every second had been a personal hell for the marauders. James was humbled, became extremely tolerant, and had lost his first quidditch game in years. Sirius became something more irritable; he was edgy and sought the solidarity of dark corners. He rarely socialized, couldn’t even bring himself to take the mickey out on Peter.
It was a grand awakening for James, it made him regret and change. He no longer felt the need to terrorize younger students or attack Snivellus. He was kinder to those around him and even offered to help where he could. Though he did all of it with a glazed look in his eyes and a depressed smile on his face.
Sirius, in the classic fashion of being James’ complete opposite, turned in on himself. He became self-deprecating and didn’t wish to inflict that torment on anyone else. He believed in every ounce of hate he received, in the amount of guilt he harbored. He struggled to see past the bad. His life was teeming with it.
The Great Hall doors burst open, and the flittering steps of Professor Dumbledore appeared. At his side was a very reluctant Sirius.
“Ah, Professor McGonagall,” he said with lightness that did not match the person beside him. “I believe you’re missing a student.”
“Black,” McGonagall snipped, walking towards him and eyeing his ruffled clothes, “You’re thirty minutes late.”
Sirius merely shrugged his shoulders, looking anywhere but the corner of the room (Y/N) and Mary stared.
McGonagall released a heavy sigh, though her brow modeled concern. “Well, take your seat. You’ve still got around an hour to finish the exam. I suggest you use the time wisely.” She shared a look with Dumbledore as Sirius retreated.
Remus and James followed their friend with worry in their eyes, but his desk was too far for them to ask silent questions.
Sirius merely slumped in his chair and twiddled with his quill. He may have been forced to be there, but that didn’t mean he was going to comply with the test taking. Remus forced himself to return his attention to his own exam. And the rest of the hour was filled with a ticking clock and scratching quills.
By the time McGonagall waved her wand and called forth the scrolls of parchment, Remus devised another tactic to fix the wellbeing of his companions. Instead of greeting James and Peter, he chose to wait by the door until (Y/N) came by.
She had her head held high, book bag tight on her arm.
“(Y/N).”
“Not now, Remus, I’ve got to study for Charms.” Mary was nearby, leading the way outside. “I don’t want to hear some other passed along apology.”
Remus wringed his hands, falling into step beside her, “I’m not trying to speak for them. I just want to talk to you. I – I’m worried.”
There was a small pause in her steps, but she kept forward, “It’s none of my concern.”
“But they’re not getting any better,” a new curt edge in his tone, “They’re not themselves anymore.”
“I distinctly remember saying that they don’t exist anymore. I don’t care, Remus.”
“You don’t want to care.”
She finally stopped and turned to him, “I’m moving on. And I won’t be able to keep doing that if you bring this up every time I see you.” But she hesitated at the look on his face, “Remus, what’s wrong?”
He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes full of fretting, “I know you think this was some kind of joke – and it was for a while – but I don’t think you realize how far they fell for you.”
“And that’s supposed to make what they did okay?”
“No,” he bit back, “Not at all. But what’s happening to them right now, that is proof that they regret. That they are sorry for what they did. I think they…”
(Y/N) folded her arms, clearly unimpressed, “Think they what?”
“They need a little forgiveness to get better.”
“No,” she snapped, whipping around and continuing down the entryway, “I’m glad they’re stewing in their regret. They should be.”
“For how long, (Y/N)?” Remus begged, following her steps, “I’m tired of watching them wither away.”
“Please,” she scoffed, “You were there when we had this conversation. I don’t want to see or speak to them. Ever.”
Remus felt his blood boil over, “It’s killing them, (Y/N)! And I won’t watch it anymore. I am terrified that they’re going to be like this forever. You see them, (Y/N), I know you do. You look when you think no one’s around.”
She stiffened, “What do you want me to do, Remus? I can’t forgive them – not yet at least.”
“Please, just talk to them. Make them feel less invisible.”
“I don’t know…”
Remus grabbed her shoulders and made her face him. “James keeps his snitch locked away in his trunk. Sirius gets detention and then does it without a fuss.” Her gaze was hard, but he could see it thinning. “I can’t get James to do so much as nick food from the kitchens – all he does is study like the obedient student he’s never been. I don’t think I’ve heard Sirius make a complete sentence since the holidays. He refuses to even keep company with his friends.”
She swallowed hard, “They hurt me, Remus. They hurt me bad. It’s – It’s hard for me to look past the game they played. Even if their feelings have changed.”
“Please, (Y/N), I’m begging,” he retorted. “Just talk to them, get some closure. I know you made a choice back on that train. Could you just give them some piece of mind? I’m sure it would help you too.”
She looked up at him with some remorse in her gaze, until it flitted to whatever was behind his shoulder.
He whipped around and found Sirius standing several feet away. There was a slouch in his shoulders and his hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes. But there was clear pain and longing there where he stared back.
(Y/N) took an involuntary step backward, hands winding tight around her book bag. Her breathing hitched in her throat and Remus sidestepped.
Sirius took a shaky breath, his eyes purple rimmed and stinging, “(Y/N) …”
But she had already turned on her heel and darted towards her common room. The sigh that escaped Sirius had Remus at his shoulder in an instant.
~~~
There was no one else on the quidditch pitch when she sat in the stands. She sat there and waited, her heart thumping a thousand beats a second. She knew he’d be walking by any minute; he always did on the weekends.
She could hear footsteps thumping against the grass and a chill went up her spine. James came around the corner, kicking dandelions as he went. But his steps faltered, his eyes went wide.
“(Y/N)?”
The edge of fear in his voice put a familiar thump in her chest, “Hey, James.”
His breathing got heavier, his hands running up to tangle in his hair, “You… you’re not running away.”
“I wanted to talk.”
After spending so much time avoiding him, it was a shock to see the state of him. His glasses hid most of the tiredness in his eyes, but he was pale, paler than usual. His voice was raspy where he choked on the words.
“Talk?” She patted the seat next to her and watched him weigh whether or not she was joking before sitting. “Had a change of heart?”
She took a deep breath, keeping her hands tight in her lap. “I’ve… I’ve been thinking a lot about the last time we talked. What I said to you.”
“It’s all right, (Y/N). You were right – you had the right to be angry. I’m just… I’m glad we’re talking now.”
She turned to him and was met with a pained grimace, “I think you need to hear me say it.” He shut his mouth real quick. “James, what you did was horrible, terrible. I thought of it as unforgiveable. But if there’s anything that could’ve proven to me that you guys felt differently about the joke, it’s how you guys have been behaving the last few weeks.
“I think I’ve been punishing you because of my own embarrassment. But honestly – this grudge holding deal isn’t healthy for either of us.”
“You’re looking better than any of us,” James laughed, disbelief ringing in his ears.
She smiled his favorite smile, “I forgive you James.”
He sighed, leaning over and putting his head in his hands. “Thank you, (Y/N), thank you.” He turned to her with an earsplitting grin, “I know I was stupid and arrogant, and it was just some childish bet. We didn’t think about the people we would hurt.”
She started to laugh, “I know, James – that’s why you’re forgiven.” But then she caught the subtle look in his eyes, and she had to suck in her lips. “Look James…”
“It wasn’t going to be me, was it?” the understanding in his voice was remarkable.
“You’re not mad?”
He leaned back, rubbing his tired eyes beneath his glasses, “Mad? You’ve just forgiven me from one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done – of course I’m not mad.”
(Y/N) ran sweaty hands against her knees, “I think you should talk to Lily.” That made his eyebrows raise, “Ever since you’ve knocked down your ego a few notches, she’s started seeing the good in you.”
A newfound smile crept onto his face, “There might be a happy ending for us all yet. Have you told… Sirius?” The stillness of her expression gave the answer away, “You know, I think he’s been far worse than me. You’re going to want to find him quick.”
She shared a glance with him and an appreciative smile, “It’s so good to talk to you again.”
~~~
It didn’t take her long to track down Sirius, he hid out in only a few different places those days. She kept James beside her, each taking turns talking and catching the other up on all they’ve missed. They trailed down the corridor, James falling easily back into how things used to be with (Y/N).
“Let me carry your book bag.”
“James…” The edge in her voice made him laugh, even more as she raised a brow.
“I’m just being friendly, just like we used to.”
And with a comforting feeling of nostalgia, she handed her bag over, giving him a swift punch to the arm for good measure. He rubbed the spot mockingly with a dramatic whine on his lips.
“So how do you suppose I should talk to Evans?”
“You can start by calling her by her first name.”
“She likes being called Evans.”
“Since when has she liked anything you do, James?”
He shrugged half-heartedly, “Just recently, if my sources are correct.”
(Y/N) sighed with an easy smile on her face, “You made friends with me fairly quickly. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
James pondered with an animated look, “All right, you want to make a bet? How fast I’ll win Lily’s affections?”
“Too soon, Potter – way too soon.” But she was smiling, nonetheless. So much so that she didn’t notice the new visitor coming down the hall.
They were on their way towards one of the secret entrances that the Marauders discovered for their map of mischief. There was always the chance of finding one of the quartet skulking in the entryway or hiding along the passage in case Filch or Minnie was after them.
It appeared Sirius had taken such refuge, deciding to come out when he heard familiar voices. And the sight before him took what shattered glass his chest was and refine it to sand.
(Y/N) and James were walking side by side, laughing and talking as if no time had passed between the Easter holidays and now. Then deep in his gut, he knew, (Y/N) had chosen James – it was James from the beginning.
She chose to forgive James and now they were going to live happily ever after.
And Sirius was left to despair in painful silence.
(Y/N) looked up and found her sweet smile vanish instantly. James was quick to follow, readjusting the bag on his shoulder. He swallowed hard, as if the words he was just saying were suddenly lodged in his throat.
“Back at it, I see.” The hoarseness in Sirius’ voice was heart wrenching.
James flickered his eyes towards (Y/N), noticing her shock, and saying, “How are you, mate? It’s been a bit.”
“A bit.” Sirius muttered, repeating the last words with a hardened gaze. “You’ve moved on since last I saw you.”
(Y/N) couldn’t bear to hear the betrayal and anguish in his words. She knew what it looked like. Like she had chosen James and didn’t want to waste her time keeping Sirius in her life.
“Sirius.”
The way she said his name sent a flood of emotion in him that Sirius didn’t like. He didn’t like not being in control of his emotions. He didn’t like that he couldn’t hold himself together. He hated the fact that seeing her looking back at him after all this time was crumbling him as if she’d yelled at him all over again.
“I won’t bother you. Enjoy your evening.” And Sirius turned as quickly as his sleep deprived, wobbly knees would let him, and leave the corridor.
(Y/N) took one step forward and hesitated, a hand outstretched, but the words wouldn’t form from her jumbled thoughts. There was only a look of horror as she watched him leave. James was eyeing her with sympathy, his heart just as punctured by Sirius’ obvious loathing.
“Look at your face,” he feigned a smirk, “You really do care about him, don’t you?”
She finally shut her gapping mouth, biting her lip, “Now more than ever.”
James nodded, putting an arm around her shoulders and leaning down to whisper, “Then go after him.”
In an instant she was running down the corridor, turning sharp and feeling her shoes slide from her momentum. Her throat was dry, and her eyes burned, but she ran like there was nothing else in the world that mattered.
And there was Sirius about to make his way outside and to the courtyard. But she yelled for him first.
“Sirius!”
When he turned there were obvious tears in his eyes, tears that betrayed him and fell at the sound of her voice.
“Sirius, wait, please!”
He could only dare to imagine what she meant by that. But it was enough to keep him rooted to the spot. She was talking to him for the first time in weeks. She was looking at him with something other than hatred.
And the fine sand of his chest rustled with hope against his wishes.
(Y/N) ran so fast that when she collided with him, he was almost knocked off his feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him tight against her.
His breathing quickly began to rise to match hers, though he wasn’t the one who had just ran down the stretch of a few corridors. His arms remained limp at his sides, disbelief etching every part of his face.
Only to feel the doubt creep in.
She just wanted to clear the air, so it wasn’t awkward for James and her. She wanted him to be happy for her and James. She wanted them to be friends again.
The problem was that he wasn’t going to survive witnessing those two together.
“(Y/N), don’t do that.” He reluctantly reached for her arms and pulled her away, “You can’t do that.”
He was oblivious to the immediate confusion in her reddened face, “What are you talking about, Sirius? Do you not want me anymore?” Again he didn’t notice how her eyes began to fill with tears similar to his.
He dared to look at her face, to see the features he’d been dreaming about for weeks. He let his gaze linger despite the yelling in his head to spare himself from the pain that would later come. Another hot tear escaped the corner of his eye.
“How could you ever think that?”
She sighed out an exhausted breath, “You are determined to stay unhappy, aren’t you?” When his loving gaze faltered into confusion, she continued, “Sirius, what you saw back there… that was James and I being friends. I just spoke to him this morning and we made up. We decided to be friends again, and to just be friends. The only reason I spoke to him first was because… well, I was more nervous about talking to you.”
Sirius was too busy going over what he had seen earlier, analyzing the interactions between (Y/N) and James.
“Sirius, what happened between us was horrible. I was so hurt that I didn’t give any thought to how you felt. Obviously, an entire school year is a long time to spend with one person, and I’m sure pretending became real very quickly.”
He swallowed thickly, his eyes itchy from the tears. But he didn’t dare speak, it was all too good to be true. He didn’t want to wake up from whatever dream this was.
“I forgive you, Sirius.”
He let out an unexpected breath, blinking fast – he was not ready for it. His hands clenched into fists as she took another step closer.
“I forgive you – and it’s been paining me to see you like this. That I did this to you.”
“I did this to myself,” he rasped, “You could never do anything so cruel. Nothing I didn’t deserve.”
Then she was holding his face in her hands, wiping away his tears. She felt her heart skip at the way his eyes closed, and he leaned into her palm. “I want to make things right.”
He reached up and placed a trembling hand over one of hers. “Friends again?”
She smiled an easy smile that heated his face. “Actually…” And she encased his lips with hers. She could feel the stutter in his breath from shock. His limp arms hesitantly rose to graze her waist, unable to will himself over completely.
She broke away, pecking his lips once – twice – more. “Does that tell you plain enough?”
He was trying his best to get his breathing under control. His lower lip was starting to quiver, “So… just friends then?” A smile broke out on those trembling lips.
“Right,” she laughed, wrapping herself around him again, hugging him tightly. And this time he returned the feeling, holding her close by the waist. “I made my choice a long time ago. It’s just taken me a while to figure out how to tell you.”
Sirius buried his face into her shoulder, feeling his chest begin to repair itself. His heart thumped excitedly.
There was no possible way he was going to let go of her any time soon.
~~~
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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years
Text
𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜: 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐
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Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, promoting, encouraging, justifying nor romanticizing yandere behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.
Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationships, yandere behavior, bullying, harassment, blackmail, sexual scenes, abusive relationship, manipulation, verbal abuse, abortion, attempted murder.
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𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:
𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐
𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟼𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟿
𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟽𝟹 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟻'𝟾 𝙵𝚝.
𝙰𝚐𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%
𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■□90%
𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■□80%
𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑
𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚃𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛
𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:
𝙰𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜/𝚘.
𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 .
𝚄𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜.
𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚢.
𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗.
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You had known him for the longest time, probably since you were both learning the alphabet.
Even back then he was a troublesome boy.
Loved to dip your hair in paint, pour glue inside your backpack.
Or always pushed you off the swings cause he wanted to play in it.
This didn't really faze you back then.
Most of the boys that age played such tricks on almost all the girls.
They all had a specific target and you were Wooyoung's.
You remember telling this one day to your mom, who simply chuckled.
"Honey, boys tend to tease the girls they have a crush on."
You remember looking at her with confusion.
How could they treat someone they like with such utter disrespect and rudeness?
"Because they don't know how to express their feelings."
Like an idiot you believed that, and being the naive little girl you were, you kinda started developing a crush on him.
You remember the first time you talked back to him, it's engraved in your head because it was the first time of many to come where his words, and actions, hurt you.
"Just admit you like me Wooyoung! You only tease me cause you're in love with me."
You remember the rage and disgust in his eyes as he shoved you to the ground, making you scrape your knee on the pavement.
"Get this through that dumb brain of yours Y/N....
No one will ever love a dirty little rat like you."
You came home crying that day. Hurt physically and emotionally at his words.
And the years to come weren't better, as you grew up, Wooyoung's bullying towards you escalated.
You hoped that after you graduated high school and started going to university, you'd be free from him, never see him again.
You could finally be happy for once in your life. Focus on your goals and career.
Everything was going great for you!.......
Until you walked into class and found out not only had Wooyoung been accepted to the same university...
He was majoring in the same field as you!
"Hey dirty little rat. Missed me?"
His cocky smile sent shivers down your spine, you were already fearing what he had in store for you.
If you thought high school was hell, it was nowhere near as awful as the torment Wooyoung was now putting on you.
Tripping you down the stairs to the point you had severe injuries.
Writing nasty and derogatory names on your desk that now wouldn't come off and you'd be forced to look at every time you went to class.
One time he went as far as stealing your assignments, ultimately leading to failing an entire semester.
You were so heartbroken and just done with his shit. You felt no more motivation to even continue studying.
Until a cute boy named Yeonjun transferred and took an interest in you.
He was super nice, friendly and not to mention good looking and hella tall.
It was more than obvious too that he wanted establish a relationship with you, anyone and everyone could see that.
Especially Wooyoung and he did not look the way someone else was making you happy.
So he devised a plan, not caring how messed up it was.
He made sure someone convinced you to go to a party he'd be at.
You found it odd that he was suddenly acting super nice to you, not even calling you those mild nicknames he called you in front of others.
And it shocked you even more when he suddenly apologized to you for everything he'd done to you, even offering to talk to your professor about your assignment.
His eyes seemed so sincere, you actually believed him.
Perhaps he finally decided to change, realized his behavior was unnecessary and immature and of course, like an idiot you accepted his apology.
You got wasted for the first time in your life that night and could not remember anything at all.
Until Wooyoung was 'kind' enough to brief you in on what happened.
He pulled out his phone and made you watch a video he had filmed of you two that night.
Your stomach hurled over as you realized it was a fucking sex tape, you and Wooyoung had actually fucked that night.
"What! No no! This couldn't have happened! There's no way!" You refused to believe it.
Wooyoung just smirked at you.
"Oh but it did happen kitten. You were so eager too as the video displays, you kept asking me to go harder, begging me for another round and wanting my cum all over you..."
"I wonder what would the whole school say if I posted it online....especially Yeonjun."
Now you realized what his game was. He was never sorry. It was just another form of him to torture you, and this tipped the scale.
You were so shaken up, you got down on your knees and begged him not to show anyone the video.
"Please Wooyoung! I'll do anything! Anything!"
"Anything?......really? How about becoming mine then?"
And now you were forever tied to your worst nightmare.
Wooyoung especially enjoyed seeing Yeonjun's disappointed and heartbroken look when he announced that you two were now dating.
Now he couldn't even look at you anymore, feeling somewhat betrayed by your actions.
You wanted to tell him you were sorry and explain to him what was going on, but Wooyoung had eyes on you 24/7.
He even made you move in with him and now even your free time had to be spent with him.
You hated living with him.
He not only made sure to verbally abuse you, but actually seemed to have fun causing tiny accidents to happen around you.
His favorite was when he'd peer over your shoulder as you tried to study.
He scoffed. "Why even bother if all you'll ever be good at is spreading your legs?"
Those were his favorite insults: "whore" "slut" "bitch".
One time you were just so fed up with him, that you ended up snapping back.
"Shut the fuck up Wooyoung! You're such an insufferable piece of shit, no wonder your mom left you and your dad back in middle school."
As soon as the words came out, you wanted to swallow them back in.
Wooyoung was livid at your words.
He not only yanked you up by your hair, but he actually threw you to the floor and started kicking you harshly.
He didn't kick you for too long though, he did not want to risk anyone questioning when he told them you fell down the stairs.
And especially not take you to the hospital.
You had no choice but to stay home as you tried to recuperate.
You remember one of those days, you came home from a quick trip to the convenience store and found some girl blowing Wooyoung on the couch.
You weren't fazed. He often brought girls home and fucked them right in front of you.
You just sighed and decided to ignore the shit eating grin he'd give you whenever you caught him.
You decided long ago it wasn't worth it.
You two weren't even dating cause you wanted to.
He just loved controlling you, having power over you, holding something over your head.
He had this obsessive need to make you miserable.
And you hated that you had no choice but to allow it.
Even when there were things you didn't want to do, you had to or he'd once again blackmail you.
The one time you adamantly refused to was when you found out you were pregnant.
Wooyoung was just as shocked as you.
"And you're telling me I'm the father?"
"Uh......I can't have sex with anyone who isn't you, obviously you're the father."
Wooyoung couldn't let you go through with the pregnancy.
"Get rid of it." He told you.
You wrapped a protective hand around your bump.
"No! This is my baby and I won't allow you to harm it!"
You weren't going to budge though.
"Show the tape to everyone! I don't give a fuck anymore! But I'm not killing an innocent child who has done nothing wrong. "
Realizing he was losing control of you, Wooyoung knocked you out unconscious, deciding to take matters into your own hands.
You woke up a day later, feeling sore and aching in your inner thighs and lower abdomen.
You immediately panicked and sensed something was wrong.
You didn't need Wooyoung to tell you, you knew he had taken you to a clinic and had the baby removed.
You were so shaken up, cried your eyes out and no longer had any will to fight against Wooyoung.
You felt like it all all your fault, the death of your baby was your fault.
You weren't strong enough to save it and it was killing you inside.
You no longer trusted anyone, and you didn't have the heart to talk about it to anyone. Not like they'd believe you or care about you.
But someone did notice, Yeonjun never stopped caring about you and although he was hurt you went with someone else, he still had feelings for you.
And he was very observant and noticed that ever since you started dating Wooyoung, you were skipping a lot of classes....
And you were having a lot of accidents...too many in fact.
And now he just saw you completely lost and like a walking dead.
"Hey Y/N, are you ok?" He asked you one day.
You were going to respond, but the devil made an appearance by your side.
"She's fine and was just coming home with me. Weren't you baby?"
To everyone, it looked like a sweet and caring smile from your doting boyfriend, but you knew it was all fake.
Nonetheless you just kept your head low and went home with him.
Yeonjun noticed the way you trembled when he put his arm around you, noticed the frightened look in your eyes and he knew something was wrong in your relationship.
When you got home, Wooyoung was pissed off at you and immediately struck your face.
"I thought I told you not to talk to him! Can't you obey a simple order you fucking bitch?!"
When he pulled out a knife from the kitchen, you were now scared for your life.
You tried to fight back, but Wooyoung was stronger than you and you were still in pain after the abortion.
He knocked you to the floor and managed to land 2 stab wounds into your right side.
You could never forget the wrath and hate in his eyes as he told you:
"I'm going to fucking kill you."
By some miracle, someone taller and stronger than Wooyoung got him off you, that someone being none other than Yeonjun.
He felt glad about following his hunch and followed you both back home, otherwise he'd end up reading about you in the newspaper.
He had no trouble in subduing Wooyoung and calling the police.
The only thing on his mind was getting you to the hospital as soon as possible.
"It's ok Y/N. You're going to be fine." He assured you
Your physical injuries were easy to recover from, but the emotional trauma and abuse Wooyoung put you through was not.
Yet Yeonjun was there every step of the way, going with you to therapy and just listening to you and your terrifying story.
For the first time in your life, you felt truly loved and happy....
And safe.
A year after the ordeal, you were doing much better and were nearly fully recuperated.
Yeonjun and you rented a place together and were completely in love with each other.
Everything seemed to be going perfect....
And then one day your phone rang.
Picking up, you asked "Hello?"
"Don't think it's over yet you dirty little rat."
272 notes · View notes
sturchling · 4 years
Text
Salt-Fic September Day 17: This Is Who You Wanted Me To Be Right?
Marinette had had enough. She was done. Lila had been turning the class against her for weeks. It had started small. She had started making the class wonder about why Marinette was so busy lately. Marinette hadn’t been able to make anything for the class, or make many class events. Lila had used that as an opportunity. “Why would she keep ditching you guys. A real friend would make time for you any day. I know I would.” The class didn’t want to think poorly of Marinette at first. But the more she ditched, the more their trust was eroded away.
Then Lila started saying that Marinette was saying mean things to her. At first the class didn’t believe it. “Maybe you just misunderstood. Marinette would never say those things.” But then Lila brought a recording of Marinette saying those things. Just audio, but it was enough to convince the class. Lila had a friend that was good at impressions pretend to be Marinette for the recording. Now the class thought that Marinette’s jealousy was getting the better of her. Marinette tried to defend herself, but the ‘proof’ had the entire class convinced of her guilt.
 It only escalated from there. Lila came in one day, when she knew Marinette was missing school for a doctor’s appointment, with fake bruises. She wailed to the class that Marinette had attacked her the night before. “She said that I need to stop talking to all of you. That you were her friends, not mine. I can’t believe she would do this to me!” The class comforted the Italian while being horrified by what Marinette had done. They couldn’t believe she would do something so horrible.
 When Marinette came back the next day, she found school to be very different. The whole class treated her coldly. Mrs. Bustier acted disappointed in her. Everyone looked at her like she had done something horrible. It wasn’t until later that she heard. Alya stormed up. “Marinette! How could you sit there like you didn’t do anything wrong?! How could you attack Lila like that!?” Marinette stood in shock, trying to find a way to defend herself. But the class wouldn’t listen to her. They were all convinced Marinette had become a horrible bully before their eyes.
 Marinette’s life had turned upside down. Everyone but her family thought she was a horrible bully to the sweet Lila. Thankfully her parents now knew that Lila didn’t have a lying disease and that she was just a malicious liar. The school had turned against Marinette as well. Lila had asked Mr. Damocles not to expel Marinette, but to find some other way to stop the bullying. She didn’t want her favorite person to torment to leave just yet.
 Marinette felt completely alone. Well, almost completely. She may have lost her local friends, but she still had her boyfriend in Gotham, Damian. Damian watched as Marinette became quieter and more withdrawn as this ordeal went on. She had kept trying to convince everyone of her innocence, but they wouldn’t listen to her. With each failed attempt, Marinette became more upset. Damian finally had enough. “Angel, I think it is time you stop being so nice to these moronic classmates of yours’s.” Marinette just sighed. “I don’t know Damian. If they just knew about Lila, I think things would go back to normal.” “Do you really want to be friends with the people who would turn on you for some honeyed words.” Marinette paused for a moment. She missed her friends but Damian had a point. Marinette finally agreed with Damian.
 The next day Marinette arrived to the school with a cold look on her face. It startled her class. Even with how cruel she had been to Lila; Marinette had never looked like this. Alya walked over to Marinette’s desk to tell her to stop looking at them so rude. Marinette didn’t even look up at Alya. She just said, “Leave me alone Alya. I’m not in the mood.” The class gaped at Marinette, shocked that she would say something like that. “What are you saying Marinette? Why are you being rude?” “I gave up being nice. You are all so convinced I am a horrible bully. I’m just proving you right. This is who you wanted me to be right?” The class stammered, not sure how to respond.
 Alya recovered her composure the first. “If you would just stop bullying Lila, we could all go back to being friends.” Marinette scoffed and finally looked at the class. “Why would I want to go back to being friends. You weren’t good friends. You didn’t believe me, your supposed best friend. Instead you believed some liar.” Alya got fed up. “Here we go again, you are just jealous. You have no proof that Lila is a liar!” Marinette slammed her hands on the desk and jumped up, startling everyone in the class. “What about you?! You have no proof she is telling the truth! Some journalist you are without checking the stories you post. Go ahead, look online and try to find a shred of proof of Lila’s stories.” Alya whipped out her phone. “Fine! Just to end this nonsense.” Marinette watched as Alya’s face grew more and more disappointed.
 It wasn’t long before Alya admitted defeat and turned to face Lila. But Lila had already slipped out of the classroom, knowing how this would end. Alya turned back to Marinette, apologies on her tongue. But Marinette beat her to the punch. “Save it. I don’t want to hear your apologies. You didn’t listen to me, and sided with the liar with no proof. Not like I’ll be here much longer. I’m moving and I won’t see you guys again. In fact, I’m going to take the rest of the day to finish packing.” Marinette gathered her stuff and left while the class stood in shock. She was true to her word and left to live in Gotham. She hardly ever returned to Paris. She used the horse miraculous to get back to Paris as needed for akumas, but she never stuck around long. The class was left to regret the loss of the best friend they would ever have.
Hope you guys liked it! @maribat-central-official
507 notes · View notes
anathewierdo · 3 years
Text
Bump on the Road
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1594
Summary: Y/N discovers she's pregnant.
Warnings: None, I believe. Fear of Sam leaving the reader.
A/N: to the anon that requested this pic, I hope you like it, darling. This pic is a lot shorter than my usual, so I apologize for that, but I think it's good ^-^'.
My masterlist
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The life of a hunter has no guarantees. With every case, comes the risk of not living to see the next hunt, to be caught in the impersonation of a federal agent and winding up in jail, to mess with the wrong partner once and wind up dead.
Y/N has always found it ironic how in all of the odds that hunting can have, to live a somewhat normal or balanced life is practically a nonexisting one.
Like the world is telling you that your only choice is to fight monsters. That you can’t have that decent apartment you saw once or that you can’t actually date the cute civilian because they don’t know what’s bumping in the night and they wouldn’t believe you if you told them.
In a life like this one, stability is a luxury, a rarity.
Y/N can barely think of a few hunters who have that luxury and most of them are dead.
Deadly odds and rare luxuries aside, you wouldn’t change a thing. You found your own stability with Sam friggin’ Winchester by your side. Well, as stable as the life of a hunter can be.
The huntress knows how lucky she is to have Sam as her boyfriend. Partner? Boyfriend.
Sam is nothing short of amazing. He’s considerate, empathetic, handsome and loving. He’s everything Y/N has ever wished for in a partner. He’s home.
The thought of ever losing him makes her shudder in fear on a good day.
Today, that thought has her sobbing quietly on the bunker’s bathroom floor.
There are two pink lines, clear as day, on the pregnancy test and it feels as if they’re mocking her. She keeps trying to figure out when it could’ve happened– how it could’ve happened. They’d been careful, they’d used protection every single time they slept together. This shouldn’t have happened.
Yet, those two pink lines are still there.
The test in her hands is the last of four. Y/N had grown more desperate and scared with every ‘positive’ result she received. One of the tests even said she was about two weeks along. Said test now lies in pieces around her.
“What am I gonna do?” she laments to the bathroom walls.
Sam and her had talked about the future, of course. They were bound to do so after years together. They’d talked about the possibility of getting ‘married’, of having children, of what their lives could look like years from now.
The baby part wasn’t supposed to come this soon.
Y/N takes a shaky breath, collecting the pregnancy tests and wiping away her tears. She can’t lose Sam. She’s not ready. She doesn’t know what to do, but she has time. She has time to figure out how, when and what to tell him. She has time to decide if she’ll keep it. She has time. She can do this. Her life can still be okay.
She’ll figure this out.
After getting rid of the tests, Y/N proceeds to act like nothing happened. She can’t deal with the news at the moment, much less deal with Sam, Dean or even Cas interrogating her if they notice something off.
That night, when her and Sam go to bed, she hugs him a little more tightly than usual, murmuring she loves him into his skin and basking in the warmth in her chest when Sam says it back.
A day turns into two, then into three, and by the times she notices, she has reached her seventh week pregnant.
That’s when the famous pregnancy sickness began. She’d wake up, whether it was the middle of the night or early in the morning and rush as quietly as possible to the toilet. By some sort of miracle, none of the guys had asked or commented anything in all this time.
And she is in the middle of a very nice and quiet sleep when Sam enters their room.
“Hey, honey,” he calls to her softly. “Wake up. We found a case in St. Louis.”
Y/N groans. “What is it?”
“Simple salt’n burn, we’ll be back in no time.”
Knowing their luck, she doesn’t believe him, but Y/N simply groans in feigned frustration and gets up. They’re out of the bunker in the next thirty minutes.
The case is indeed a salt’n burn, but with her sickness seemingly getting worse by the day, she barely is of any help. By the time they’ve identified whose ghost was tormenting those teenagers, Sam is glued to her side, worried sick over what might have caused her to be in this state.
“Do you think you can explain it to me?” he pleads. “Maybe it was something you ate. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe we should go see a doctor–”
“No!” Y/N croaks hastily. Her throat is still wrecked from the amount of vomit she just threw in the motel room’s toilet. “No doctor. I’m okay. It’ll pass.”
“Y/N, you’ve been vomiting for days now. You get up in the middle of the night and I can hear you gagging on your way out,” Sam argues. “Or how about the way you flat out refused to eat Dean’s pancakes the other day? You acted as if they were disgusting and they’re your favorite!”
“Sam, I promise you, I’m okay.”
“But you’re not! Please. What is it? You need medicine. Let me help you.”
It’s the look in his eyes as he speaks that breaks her. In all of their time together, Y/N can recall several arguments, fights, sad and happy moments between them. There had been a few close calls, even, but Sam has never looked at her this scared, like he’s losing her and he’s trying to hold on.
It’s only hit her now. He’s as scared of losing her as she is of losing him.
It’s frustrating how much she has been crying ever since she had learned she was pregnant. And it seems like she’s going to cry even more, judging by the knot forming around her throat.
Her hands shake slightly, but she manages to get a firm grip of Sam’s hands.
With a deep breath, Y/N looks him in the eye. “What I have can’t be cured by a visit to the doctor, Sam. Not now, at least.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that I– I discovered something. I should’ve told you sooner. I shouldn’t have  waited this long but,” she clears her throat. “ah, fuck. I’m pregnant, Sam.”
For the first time since she’s met him, Y/N can’t tell what Sam is thinking. He squishes her hands tightly, looking at her like she’s dropped a something on him, but he doesn’t know quite yet what it is. A silence between them stretches. The longer it becomes, the more scared she gets.
“I’m sorry,” she tries to get closer to him. He lets her, seemingly frozen, still staring at Y/N. “I’ve known for weeks now, I’m sorry. I love you. I just– I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if we are ready and I wanted to make up my mind before telling you.”
“Stop,” he mumbles, leaning away and looking at her like she might not be real. “You– fuck, you shouldn’t have been doing this alone. I– Y/N, you– I should’ve– damn it.”
Sam closes the space between them, kissing her with all his might. Y/N’s knees grow weak at just how much love he pours into the kiss. His arms snake around her waist, then he’s cupping her face and Y/N’s own hands hold on tightly to his clothes, needing him close, not wanting to let him go.
When the kiss breaks, they’re both left panting, but the only one with tears in his eyes is Sam.
“Do you want it?” he asks.
Y/N opens her mouth right away to say yes, but she stops. She can’t say it.
“I don’t know,” is what she ends up answering. “I don’t know if you’d want it. If we can even do it. If we're ready. We said ‘maybe one day’, we didn’t say ‘now’.”
Sam nods along, considering every word, before leaning down to press his forehead against her own.
“I want to be with you,” is his answer. “With kids, without kids, in a year, in ten, in fifty. And if– I’m on your side. I’m right here. I love you so fucking much.”
“But do you want to be a dad now, Sam?”
“As long as you are their mom and as long as you’re with me, yes,” he says immediately. “Whatever you decide, I’m all in. We’ll figure it out, just like we always have.”
Y/N can’t take it anymore. She pulls him into another kiss, smiling softly into Sam’s lips and her heart is beating a mile a minute, it feels like it might burst out of her heart. Sam will be here. Sam loves her. And now she feels silly for ever thinking she would lose him.
The feeling grows so big, she giggles against his lips. Sam breaks the kiss to look at her with questioning, yet loving eyes.
“Sam,” she smiles, her eyes shine with fear and love and it’s the strangest mix Sam has ever seen butit mesmerizes him. “We’re going to be parents.”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I think we are.”
The rest of their day is spent in each other’s arms, with loving words and excited plans for the little Winchester who’s yet to come. And when Dean comes back from torching the remains of the ghost, he almost passes out with excitement at the news.
For the first time since she found out she was pregnant, Y/N is genuinely excited at the possibilities of their new normal. She's excited to meet her kid. She's excited to do so with Sam by her side. As long as she can hold his hand, they will be alright; her, Sam and their little peanut.
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To the lovely anon who sent this request, I hope you liked it. Thank you for your request <3
I'm not gonna tag anybody for this fic because I don't have a Forevers or Sam Winchester tag list. If you're interested in being tagged tho, please let me know.
As always, my requests are open :D
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