#I poisoned myself. did you know that? I tell everyone I cut my veins because that's easier | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

makeyoumine69 · 1 year

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Babe I LOVE your writing, and if your comfortable, Can you please write a little blurb about the reader digging her nails in Patrick's back,

im trying to think if he would like that he could make you feel good like this or hate it because your marking his beautiful skin.

Do you think he would push your hand off his back and tell you to take it or what???

Toxic

◥ PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

◥ SUMMARY: Everyone knows that Patrick Bateman is such a toxic guy, his blood is like a deadly poison. Once you taste it, you are lost.

◥ CONTAINS: oral (f), p in v, creampie, Patrick is in predator mode, pretty aggressive foreplay and some more :)

◥ WORDCOUNT: 1.6k

◥ SONG REC: Britney Spears - Toxic

◥ A/N: Britney's song suddenly inspired me so much that I couldn't stop myself from writing it, thank you sm for your request, I hope you like it! 🖤

◥ LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓

You and Patrick were in the middle of a really serious fight, and the fact that you were stuck in his vacation house in Hampton was more than worrisome.

"I don't know why you're still trying to argue with me," Bateman blurted out, strolling around the large modern kitchen wearing nothing but tight gray pants. "You looked great yesterday."

"'Great'?" You almost choked on the air, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, in your opinion, looking great means looking like everyone else? Skimpy dresses, extremely high heels, red lipstick, stockings. Oh my God, Patrick! Why can't you just accept me for who I am?"

Patrick hummed and poured himself a glass of fresh orange juice, then took a quick sip; a small drop of liquid ran down his massive chest. "What do you mean?"

He seemed to be joking or mocking you on purpose, because your slightly irritated face only amused him.

"Stop trying to change me and -"

"Wait a second, honey," he cut you off pretty harshly, and in addiction, Bateman raised a finger in a warning gesture. "I can do whatever I want, you know why? Because I'm so fucking rich!"

"You don't own me, idiot!" You bellowed, instinctively closing the distance between the two of you. He did the same. "And I don't care about your money … you're so selfish and narcissistic that it's completely messed up your mind and you can't see anything good in people!"

You stood almost face to face, your lungs burning from your rapid breathing, while Bateman looked so calm and cold-blooded.

"You don't care about my money, but you always accepted all the gifts I gave you. How hilarious!" he almost spat the words right in your face, staring at you arrogantly until the vein under his eye became too noticeable. "If there's something you don't like - nobody's keeping you here. But since I'm very kind today, I'll give you a chance to apologize for this little accident."

Who knew what was in his head when he leaned down to kiss you, but he would surely regret it as you bit his lower lip hard, tasting his poisoned blood on the tip of your tongue.

"You fucking bitch!" He yelled, trying to catch you, but he was too slow from the aftershock of your action, so you managed to run away.

Scared, you rushed upstairs to the bedroom because you couldn't leave the house wearing just your underwear and his white shirt. God, your skin was literally burning from the expensive fabric of his shirt, so as soon as you got there, you took it off, forgetting to close the door. But to be fair, it was a pretty useless waste of time - he would open it or just break it, depending on how angry he was.

Panting nervously, you dashed to the bed and started to pick up your clothes when you heard his loud footsteps behind you. Time stopped for you as Patrick grabbed you roughly and pushed you onto the bed.

"No! N-no!" You struggled to slip away and climb further onto the bed, but he caught your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed with ease.

As soon as he rolled you onto your back, he grasped your neck and squeezed it painfully, pushing almost all the oxygen out of your chest. In response, you tried to claw at his hands, fighting back as hard as you could.

God, you thought you were going to die.

"What's wrong, honey? Not so brave anymore?" He nagged from above, settling down on the bed to press you even harder.

With a devilish grin, Bateman shook you several times, just to hear your miserable whimpering as he enjoyed the way you kept trying to push him off.

"E-enough, please." You trembled as you felt your strength running out.

"Jesus Christ, you're so pathetic and silly," he suddenly let you go, and you fell onto your back, breathing heavily. "What were you even thinking?"

It was definitely a rhetorical question, because the next moment Bateman was already pulling down your lace panties while you took a second to recover and continue struggling.

"Patrick, let me go! I don't want-mmm ..." You stammered as he dragged you even closer to the edge of the bed.

"You better shut up … unless you want me to test you on how long you can hold your breath."

Patrick quickly brushed off the drop of blood that formed at the corner of his lips before reaching down to spread your thighs and giving your blushing clit several flat licks. You squirmed almost immediately, feeling yourself so sinful and yet so damn good.

"P-Patrick," even if it wasn't a moan, it was enough for him to keep attacking your delicious little pussy as he sucked on your lower lips, one by one, until they both swelled. "God, e-enough!"

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" he looked at you, his chin glistening with your sweet flavor. "You're so fucking soaked, why am I not even surprised?"

Frowning, you stared back at him and asked cheekily: "Shouldn't your lip hurt?"

"Oh, don't worry," Patrick smiled smugly and fixed his messy hair. "I'm ready to ignore any pain for this lascivious tight pussy."

Holy shit.

The wild lust you just saw in his eyes was terrifying and exciting at the same time. Seizing the moment of your reverie, Bateman forced you to lift your legs so he could sink his strong tongue further into your hot cunt. And this time you couldn't keep a loud moan from escaping your tense chest as the pleasure coursed through your body like electricity.

And then, Bateman stopped unexpectedly, causing you to sigh in slight disappointment, but then you were very vocal all over again, especially when his red, leaking tip was poking at your dripping opening.

Patrick thrust into you so roughly, climbing on top of your tiny body, almost tearing you apart from the inside, and of course he did it on purpose as he reveled in all the pitiful reactions you were making.

"No way, girl," he pushed on your wide open hips, pinning you almost flat against the bed, pounding into you with shameless flesh-meeting-flesh sounds."Stop whining, I was kind hearted enough."

Oh God, his hips — they seemed to be made of steel, they were so rock hard, so strong; every push you felt with your whole body, with your every little pitch.

"Argh, fuck, you feel so good, baby… so tight and hot." He groaned, picking up the pace; his thick dick hitting your belly mercilessly.

Bateman seemed to be really crazy as he lowered down to your face once again, without any fear of getting a bite, and for a second you had the illusion that he was waiting for it, and that drove you really wild.

To his surprise, you moved towards him to take his bruised lip in your warm mouth to suck on his wound. It definitely itched, but Patrick just hissed through your passionate kiss as you both tried to take the lead, greedily devouring each other as if it was some kind of competition. Meanwhile, your trembling arms ran down his broad back, squeezing his strong muscles from time to time. The more you tugged on his lower lip, the more relentlessly he fucked you into the bed, pressing you down and holding you there with his huge, muscled body.

"Mmm, P-Patrick, aaaahh!" You moaned lustfully, feeling the salty taste of his blood on your lips.

Huffing, you cupped his tight ass with one hand while another was busy clawing at his soft skin. Inch by inch, your sharp nails dug deeper and deeper, leaving red lines across his back.

In reply, Bateman only began to fuck you harder, almost shifting into a mating press position, but that was still not enough for you. Slowly, you slid your hand from his butt up to his loin, sinking your nails into his skin again and again, leaving more and more scratches. His low, sexy groans almost made you fall apart right here right now, but you continued to paint red lines all over his body, using his skin as your canvas.

"Ahh, (Y/N) … you're mine to tame," he snarled and began to squat down, creasing you beneath him and burying his beefy girth as deep as he could. "Mmmh, did you already take your birth control pills?"

Both of you were breathing so heavily that the air around you seemed to be hotter than lava.

"Awww, y-yes … YES! I did," you looked into his dark eyes, full of savage passion. "Patrick…Patrick!"

Damn, his cock was so huge, you could feel every vein on it throbbing in ecstasy as he was so close to reaching his high. Instinctively, you lifted your legs higher, opening them even wider. The level of penetration was overwhelming, with each thrust he made, the mixture of your juices poured down on your heated bodies with a slick, obscene sound.

Growling gutturally, Patrick rammed into you several more times before you felt his grip on you tighten as he unloaded his warm seed inside your sore womb and that feeling, along with the way you played with your oversensitive little bud, left you no choice but to fall over the edge as you climaxed with a loud, long-drawn moan, shaking so vigorously in his arms that you almost hit your forehead against his as he bent down to kiss your temple, admiring the way you were sinking into the ocean of pure pleasure.

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #american psycho x reader

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ogsherlockholmes · 2 years

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26th October

Jim Browner.

Simple name, right? (J villain too). Sounds like he isn’t that bad, like he committed a petty crime, maybe he accidentally ended up with a precious jewel and immediately told the police? Maybe I’m only including him to fill up some space?

I hate this man for so many reasons, but mainly because he’s just... too realistic. The misogynistic, blaming everyone else for his crimes. Oh, he was just upset :( :( :( :( it wasn’t his fault :( :(

Everything Browner did was entirely of his own control. No one pushed him to do it, he wasn’t upset, he wanted to cause this pain.

People don’t accidentally send ears to the murder victim’s sister, or murder anyone in the fashion he did at all. They don’t follow their victims on trains and boats in the heat of the moment.

For context, this is Browner’s background (this is all in his confession, so it’s likely biased):

He married Mary Cushing, one of three sisters, and they invited another sister, Sarah, to live with them. Sarah supposedly had a crush on Jimmy, but he refused her so she used it to turn Mary against him. Browner blamed both of them for his alcoholism. Alec Fairbairn was Sarah’s friend, and Browner believed Mary fell in love with him, so he does the rational thing and kicks Fairbairn out and threatens to send Sarah one of Fairbairn’s ears if he sees him again. Browner goes on a voyage (he’s part of a ship crew) and returns to find Fairbairn and Mary together.

What does he do? Purely out of his control, he followed their taxi, then their train, to New Brighton, on a boat and beats them to death with a stick. But it wasn’t his fault, of course. Then, he cuts off each of their ears and sent them to Sarah.

Obviously, this confession can only be half true. It’s his own statement with no proof from anyone else, and he is clearly victimising himself. We can’t believe that Sarah actually fell in love with him, or that she made Mary hate him. Yes, being upset that your wife cheated on you is rational, but when you’re a man like Jim Browner, can you blame her?

Here are some quotes he added to make us feel sorry for him:

‘You can hang me, or you can leave me alone. I don’t care a plug which you do. I tell you I’ve not shut an eye in sleep since I did it, and I don’t believe I ever will again until I get past all waking. Sometimes it’s his face, but most generally it’s hers.’ [Don’t kill people then]

‘But it was Sarah’s fault, and may the curse of a broken man put a blight on her and set the blood rotting in her veins! It’s not that I want to clear myself. I know that I went back to drink, like the beast that I was. But she would have forgiven me; she would have stuck as close to me as a rope to a block if that woman had never darkened our door. For Sarah Cushing loved me—that’s the root of the business—she loved me until all her love turned to poisonous hate when she knew that I thought more of my wife’s footmark in the mud than I did of her whole body and soul.’ [How can it be her fault when you killed them??? Cough cough victim blaming]

‘Then I broke my blue ribbon and began to drink again, but I think I should not have done it if Mary had been the same as ever.’ [No one else is in charge of your addiction]

‘I tell you, and I give you my word for it, that from that moment I was not my own master, and it is all like a dim dream when I look back on it. I had been drinking hard of late, and the two things together fairly turned my brain.’ [Still not an excuse]

‘I got past it and got one in with my stick that crushed his head like an egg. I would have spared her, perhaps, for all my madness, but she threw her arms round him, crying out to him, and calling him “Alec.” I struck again, and she lay stretched beside him. I was like a wild beast then that had tasted blood. If Sarah had been there, by the Lord, she should have joined them. I pulled out my knife, and—well, there! I’ve said enough. It gave me a kind of savage joy when I thought how Sarah would feel when she had such signs as these of what her meddling had brought about. Then I tied the bodies into the boat, stove a plank, and stood by until they had sunk...I cleaned myself up, got back to land, and joined my ship without a soul having a suspicion of what had passed.’ [This is probably one of the most gruesome deaths of all ACD novels]

‘There you have the whole truth of it. You can hang me, or do what you like with me, but you cannot punish me as I have been punished already. I cannot shut my eyes but I see those two faces staring at me—staring at me as they stared when my boat broke through the haze. I killed them quick, but they are killing me slow; and if I have another night of it I shall be either mad or dead before morning. You won’t put me alone into a cell, sir? For pity’s sake don’t, and may you be treated in your day of agony as you treat me now.’ [Yeah alright]

I say: send him out on a boat in the middle of the ocean with no oars, see how sorry he is then.

#mwha ha ha ha #i hate him #jim browner #the cardboard box #ACD #acd books #acd canon #sherlockholmes #Sherlock Holmes

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babyboibucky · 3 years

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Undeserving (Deserve Better Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You confront Bucky about his decision to abandon you.

Word Count: 2,868

Warnings: More angst lmao I’m sorry for this

A/N: Honestly struggled with this because 1) I couldn’t decide on how to end it and 2) I was pressured from the feedback I got from Deserve Better. I’m not entirely happy with how this came out and initially, I planned on doing an epilogue for those who’d prefer a different ending but decided against it. Anyway, if you guys have more questions about this, send me an ask! I’d love to discuss more about this lol luv u all as always. Feedbacks are highly appreciated and I hope this was good enough for y’all who enjoyed Deserve Better xoxo

Deserve Better || Undeserving || Deserve The Best

MAIN MASTERLIST

You chose to stay.

Despite seeing the love of your life— whom you had waited for years— in the arms of another, you stayed at the gala. It was after all, to honor Steve’s legacy and you respected him enough not to walk away and miss out on the speeches given by people dearest to him, Bucky included of course.

You weren’t sure if he had seen you and the way your eyes brimmed with tears when everything finally made sense to you. He wasn’t far from you when you stopped in your tracks, mouth parting as a soft whimper escaped past your lips.

You had never imagined that heartbreak could be so physically painful. And it wasn’t the regular pain you’d feel after an intense workout or when you scraped your knee. The hurt was different, like your heart was being tightly squeezed into someone else’s palm. It was choking you, constricting you of oxygen as if you were drowning. No matter how much you tried to reach the surface, the pain just kept on pulling you down until there was nothing but darkness and well, pain.

Once the program was over and all the guests were left to mingle, you carefully slipped out of the crowd. Mindlessly, you walked and walked and walked until your feet began to hurt from the heels you were wearing. When the cold and crisp air of the evening embraced you, it was then that you realized that you reached the compound’s garden, just behind the main hall where the gala was happening.

The quiet gave you time to think and process everything that had happened. Bucky left to find himself and to become better, that he did. And you waited only to discover that he’d been back for quite a while now but chose to be with another.

As you looked out in front of you, your vision turned blurry as a new wave of tears escaped your eyes. Your grief had resurfaced after repressing it for so, so long. Grief from Bucky’s goodbye, from his absence and from waiting, grief from seeing him with someone else; no matter the cause, all in all it was grief nonetheless.

Bucky’s soft voice calling your name echoed in the evening air, it was so soft that you almost thought that you were hallucinating. But then he’d called you again, using the pet name that used to make your stomach flip and your heart to flutter. It still had the same effect now, you realized, only that it came along with an immense amount of pain that made your blood boil.

Hearing Bucky call you that, it almost felt like poison. It was quiet, gentle even but it left a bitter taste in your mouth as you felt its venom run through your veins until you could no longer feel anything but pain.

“Doll—“

“Don’t.” you seethed and turned around, pointing a shaky finger right at Bucky. “Don’t call me that when you’re with someone else, James.”

Bucky flinched at the way you had addressed him. You saw how his face faltered upon seeing you like this. His vibranium arm was restless against his side, as if he wanted to reach out to you but knew better than to do so.

“I waited for you!” you spat.

If he found somebody else to become better for, he could at least let you know. But he didn’t and you needed to know why he chose to abandon you. You needed it so badly, for your own peace of mind. For closure. You deserved that, at least.

“I’m sorry, I—“

“No, you don’t get to say your side until I’m done with mine!” you insisted. “I have every right to be selfish right now. I can choose to lash out on you or refuse to even listen to whatever your reason is for abandoning me no matter how valid it is. I fucking deserve that, Bucky.”

Bucky closed his mouth and nodded; you hated how he was staring at you as if he just lost his moonlight, as if he still loved you. If he did, you wouldn’t be confronting him like this and you wouldn’t have seen him with someone else.

“When Steve told me that you disappeared, when it felt like there was no way to bring everyone back, I waited. It didn’t feel right for me to move on from you just like that and deep inside I knew that you were going to return. Five years, Buck. I waited five years for nothing.” you said quietly, recalling how devastating those five years were.

You didn’t know what would happen then, nobody knew. Would they still come back? The chances were slim and yet you trusted your gut and decided to remain hopeful. It wasn’t easy to wait for something or someone that may never come back. But you still did and it never even crossed your mind that you may just be wasting your time.

You let out a breathy chuckle, “And then you came back and I felt alive again. But then you said goodbye.” you pursed your lips in an attempt to hold back your tears but to no avail.

It took you a while to collect yourself and Bucky let you, until you spoke again and told him how much it destroyed you when he walked away from you.

“Everyone else told me that I shouldn’t wait. Not again after those five years. But it felt easier this time around because you told me you wanted to get better. For me. And I was excited, Bucky.” you told him with a chuckle. “I was excited to see your return. I looked forward to how we’d spend our time together when you come back, if you’d cut your hair. If you’d wear the same cologne that I loved.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you recalled those times you daydreamed about Bucky’s return. The wait was agonizing but it gave you something to look forward to. At least you weren’t waiting for nothing anymore. Bucky was leaving but only temporarily, you were sure he’d come back. But the smile vanished as soon as it appeared and before you knew it, you were sobbing again.

“And now you’re back and so much better. But you aren’t mine anymore.”

At this point, your grief had consumed you both physically and mentally. You knees wobbled but you didn’t hit the ground, no. Instead, there was warmth against your skin followed by the smell of a certain cologne, enveloping the air around you. Bucky caught you in his arms and he held you tight as you cried into him.

“Shh, doll. I’m here now.” he whispered before pressing a kiss onto your crown.

As much as it felt right to be in Bucky’s embrace, it wasn’t enough to overcome the betrayal he did. You groaned in frustration and pushed him away, stepping back and hugging yourself instead.

“Why?” you asked quietly.

“I need to know why and how we came to this.” you asked, almost begged for Bucky to give you the closure you badly needed.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair as he paced before you, his cheeks stained with his own tears. “I came back for you.” he said.

You frowned, “When?”

“I couldn’t wait to see you again and as soon as I got back, I went straight to your office. But then you weren’t working there anymore, I found out that you finally landed your dream job at the law firm.” he said with a small smile. “I was so proud when I heard that. I was supposed to go to your apartment but something came up and I needed to meet with Sam first. Weekend came and I was on my way to your place when I saw you. And you were with someone else and you looked....happier, the happiest I’d seen you.”

Something clicked and you quickly shook your head, “Andy. No, he’s not...we were never together. This is a misunderstanding, Bucky. He and I were never—“

“I know.” Bucky admitted.

“What?” You asked, voice soft from utter confusion.

“You looked happy with him, not because of him. I know you weren’t in love with him because if you were, you would have looked at him the same way you’re looking at me now.” He explained sadly.

Hearing Bucky’s explanation made you angrier. If he knew that, then why did he still leave? What reason could be bigger than that to make Bucky wake up one day and decide that he no longer wants to come back to you?

If he knew you loved him so much to actually wait, why did he leave you like that?

Your brows creased, “If that’s not the reason, then what?”

Bucky shrugged, “I realized that you didn’t deserve me. I left to better myself for you, god I really did. But when I saw you and how you managed to be successful without me by your side, I figured that you were better off without me. I thought I got better, but seeing you again looking so beautiful, happy and just...maybe I’ll never be the right one for you.”

You bitterly chuckled at Bucky’s revelation, “This doesn’t make any sense to me, Bucky. You chose to abandon me because you thought I was happier without you?”

You felt offended that Bucky even thought of that. Did he not trust you when you told him you’d wait for him? He didn’t even show up to tell you that, to give you the chance to reassure him how much you love him. He just decided that it was better for him to leave you hanging?

“That’s bullshit, Bucky.” you spat. “You left me hanging because you thought you were weighing me down and the next time I see you, you’re with Sharon now. Who by the way, used to date your best friend. I don’t understand any of this.” you told him.

Bucky looked at the ground as he evened out his breathing. There were a few seconds of silence between the two of you. Only heavy breaths and the distant sound of the music from the gala lingered in the air. It was almost comforting. Almost.

“Sharon and I...it wasn’t easy for us when Steve left. It was something that we both had in common. We wanted to fix ourselves and in the process we just...it happened. I didn’t mean for it but it just happened.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

The pain was replaced with grief and then anger. A little sympathy was thrown in the mix too upon hearing Bucky’s reason but now you were back to square one. Pain.

“You worried for her when Steve left but didn’t worry about me when you chose to leave me hanging? You told me you needed to fix yourself alone because you didn’t want to hurt me in the process of doing so. Guess what, Bucky? You hurt me all the same. Even more so when you chose to stay for Sharon and when you allowed her to help you fix yourself.”

Bucky remained silent as he simply gazed at you and let you say your piece. You just couldn’t understand where he truly was coming from. You knew about his insecurities and you accepted each one of them. You’d wholeheartedly accepted Bucky from the moment you knew you loved him, that included his flaws and demons, even on days he hated himself.

“Don’t shut me out like that again, please?” You asked Bucky, when he finally let you inside his room after isolating himself for days.

He had those days, when he couldn’t bring himself to come out and just...live. He’d push people away and torture himself with negative thoughts. But you always stayed no matter what.

“‘m sorry doll, I just...sometimes...I love you so much but sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough of it to actually show you. And you don’t deserve that.” He explained.

You smiled and cupped his cheek, “That’s okay, Bucky. I love you and the amount of love I have for you is more than enough for both of us.”

Was your love not enough for him all along? For him not to consider how you would feel if he just decided not to come home to you anymore? You shouldn’t be blaming yourself for everything, you did your part. But you couldn’t help but wonder whether it was because of you that Bucky chose to walk away.

“I love you, I really do. And you deserve the best and I’m not...that. I chose to let you go so you can have that.”

“I don’t need the best version of you, Bucky!” You quickly cut him off. “I just need you.” You added.

When Bucky decided to leave to get better, you let him even though you hated to see him walk away. You’d be selfish not to, especially when Bucky was finally free to decide things for himself. It was for the best, but honestly speaking, you didn’t want a better version of him.

Whether it was the Winter Soldier or James Buchanan Barnes, whatever version of him he’d give to you, you love Bucky all the same.

You love Bucky so much that it was so painful for you to hear that he actually thought you’d be happier without him.

“You don’t deserve someone as damaged as me. Even if I got better, I’m still struggling and I don’t want to make things hard for you.” Bucky said.

“And you don’t get to decide what you think I deserve! You don’t get to abandon me like I was nothing, like we were nothing to you.” You seethed.

Bucky looked away, blinking his tears away as he tried to compose himself. His jaw tensed as he looked at you with an apologetic gaze.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me. You didn’t have to.” He said the same thing to you when he left, and it hurt just as much.

“I love you. I’ll wait, Bucky.” You murmured and tugged at his hand before he could even let you go.

Bucky smiled sadly at you, “You don’t have to, doll.”

You shook your head and brought Bucky’s hand to your lips as you cried, “I want to. And I will.”

“I know. But in all those years you were gone, I woke up each day and chose to wait for you. I always chose you, Bucky.” You said with a sad smile.

You stumbled a bit and lifted your dress enough to reveal your bleeding foot. You’d walked that long, for your feet to get wounded and ironically, you couldn’t feel anything but the pain of seeing Bucky again. He tried to approach you and help you out but you waved a hand and kept him at an arm’s length away from you. You removed your shoes and straightened up, looking at Bucky and his ocean blue eyes for one last time.

“I’m sorry if you felt like you weren’t enough. You’re more than enough for me, Bucky. I really thought that I could love and fight for the both of us, but I guess not.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else, and you hoped he would. It might have been pathetic of you to wish that he’d come back to you, but you really hoped he would say something to fight for you. He didn’t and that was enough for you to make a decision.

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

You bit your lower lip as you turned around, holding back your tears as you jogged back into the gala. You walked past everyone in the crowd in a hurry, wanting to head home as quickly as possible. And then you came face to face with someone you weren’t prepared to confront.

It’s as if time stopped when you saw her, Sharon. She must have found out about your presence. Did she know of Bucky’s decision to abandon you? You wondered how she helped Bucky better himself, why he let her stay as he fixed himself.

Why Bucky chose to be with her instead of coming home to you.

You could feel your chest constrict again, the pain continuing to consume you whole. If you stayed any longer, you were afraid you might break.

“Do you love him?” You asked her softly.

Without missing a beat, Sharon nodded her head. “I do.” She whispered.

“How much?” You asked again.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.” Sharon responded and you could feel the sincerity in her statement.

The way she said it wasn’t meant to hurt you nor mock you. It was reassuring, in fact. Like she was making you a promise that she was going to take good care of Bucky the same way you did. Maybe even more. You swallowed as you nodded, forcing a small smile before looking away to wipe a tear that slipped.

“That’s good.” You simply said. “Because I’d do anything for him too.”

Anything. Even if that meant walking away and giving up on a battle that you’d already lost the moment Bucky decided to abandon you.

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @tcc-gizmachine @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi

Deserve Better Special Tags:

@nervous-plant @wintersfilm

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #sebastian stan

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msmarvelwrites · 3 years

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Almost Is Never Enough

Summary: Ever since Steve had come out of the ice all those years ago, his only goal had been to get back to Peggy Carter. A home that was waiting and forgetting him all at once. But that doesn't make it any easier to watch him go.

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Angst, angst, just a little bit of angst, fluff, language.

Word Count: 2.4k

Authors Note: Thank you to the wonderful @remmiesour for this request. It’s been a decade, but I finally got around to it! I’ve never written for Steve and honestly I didn't think I ever would but, famous last words I guess! Enjoy!

Ever since Steve had come out of the ice all those years ago, his only goal had been to get back to her. A home that was waiting and forgetting him all at once. She was there, and if it was the last thing he did, he would be too.

So, when the opportunity presented itself, when he could actually find his long lost love, you already knew he had made the decision before the words fell from his lips.

You knew. But god, that didn't make it any easier.

You hadn’t meant for it to happen, falling in love with the world's most unavailable man. In every sense of the word, it was an accident.

And yet, there you stood, eyes trained on his face as he laughed with his friends. The sound ripping through you like it always did. For the past week you had been trying to memorize the sound. The way it filled the room, pulling smiles from everyone who heard it.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love with Steve Rogers, but that is exactly what you did.

“Ya know,” Bucky’s gravely voice started behind you, pulling your attention away from Steve and towards his friend. “If you're planning on telling him, I’d do it now.”

You furrowed your brow at the brunette, a false confusion clouding your eyes. You shook your head, only pulling a scoff from his stubble framed lips.

“Don’t play that with me. I see the way you look at him.” He smiled softly, watching as your eyes flicked back to the godlike man.

Bucky was only trying to help. But in your case, you were just too late. You had your moment. Several if you were being honest. Steve deserved someone who wasn't afraid to tell him how they felt. Someone strong and brave.

Someone like Peggy Carter.

“I missed my chance.” You hummed, taking a sip from the bottle of stale beer in your hand. You grimised at the bitterness, the liquid courage doing nothing for your spirit. Only serving as a half assed reminder of what a coward you really were.

How many times had those three words almost fallen from your mouth? How many moments passed- longing stares and lingering touches? Surely too many to keep count. But it didn't change the truth.

He didn't love you, and he was leaving.

“I think that he deserves to know what he’s leaving behind.” Bucky whispers against your ear, the words pulling at your heart.

Only you and he knew the truth. Today was not a celebration of wins… It was a send off.

“He deserves to be happy.” You choked out, your eyes meeting Steves from across the room, his softening when he was your hollow form. You faked a smile, though it didn't fool the Captain as he began to make his way over to you.

“And what about you?” You snapped your head to meet Bucky, your eyes serious and tone stern.

“Stop it. Please.”

Bucky raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back as Steve approached you. His voice calling your name melted over you like honey in tea. So sweet, but always ready to burn if not careful.

You met his gaze, his blue eyes sparkling down at you, inviting you in. You could drown in the oceans of his iris, in fact, you had on many occasions. Tonight was no exception.

“Could I steal you away for a moment?” He asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts, coated in kindness.

The moment his eyes met yours, you were a goner. A mess from the second he said your name. It was pathetic, but then again, isn’t that what you were? Doomed from the first day he walked into your life, taking up every thought in your head.

“Of course.” You tried to smile, forcing it on your quivering lips. You hoped Steve didn’t notice, and of course, he didn’t. He never noticed. If he had, perhaps you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Steve pulled you along, hand in hand as he led your outside into the night. Darkness acting as a veil covering your hurt. Part of you wanted to scream. Needed it. Though, it wouldn’t do much now.

“Do you remember when we first met?” His question echoed around you, pulling you to the memory of your first encounter.

Of course you remembered. It replayed in your head like a broken record every night. A thousand ‘what if’s’ swirling around the memory.

The day he asked you to dance at one of Tony’s elaborate fundraisers for charity. He was like something out of a dream, the way he walked across that dance floor to you. The way his voice asked that daunting question. The way you swooned the moment his hands touched yours, pulling you in and spinning you around the room.

It all felt so distant now. As if you had made the entire thing up in your head.

Sometimes you wish you had.

“I remember you being a terrible dancer.” You joked, worrying on your bottom lip as Steve's laugh echoed around you.

“See, that's the problem. I don’t have much practice and I owe a dame a dance.” His words were sincere and yet dripped in venom. They cut you deep, poison darting straight to your heart.

“You want me to help you… Dance?” You tried not to let your face show how truly hollow you felt.

You had to force yourself not to cringe away when he took your hand, pulling you gently against his chest. You could have died right there, drowned in your own self loathing, overcome with jealousy for a woman who, at this very moment, was nothing more than a tombstone. She was gone, nothing but a memory and still- Steve picked her.

With a broken breath, you rested your hand on his shoulder, shivering at his touch. You should pull away, save yourself from the ache. But the way he held you- gently and with a foreign love you would never feel from Steve, your body stayed. You had wondered what it would be like. Wrapped up in his arms, your name on his mouth, his lips on your throat. You had imagined it more times than you cared to admit.

One dance couldn't hurt.

You let him take the lead, swaying you slowly into the night. His hand on your waist, guiding you to a silent melody.

“Ya know, there was a moment that I thought it might be us.” His words whispered against your neck, freezing you in time. You swore your veins turned to ice at the cruelty of his remark. All you could do was gape.

Steve pulled away to look at you, watching your face turn pale and eyes fill with tears.

“How could you- This is a bad idea. I can’t do this, Steve.” You choked out, horrified at how little your voice sounded. You hated how he made you feel, small and broken. If you were, it was only because he made you that way.

“I didn't mean to-”

“Didn't you? I respect myself too much to beg you to stay. But what the fuck, Steve? How can you stand there, one foot out the door and tell me that?” You were shattered, hand over your heart as if it might fall out at any moment. “I’ve followed you around like you were the sun. I’d do anything for you. But I won’t watch you walk away. Not when all that’s waiting for you is a ghost. I love you too much, and it breaks my heart that you can’t even consider that I could… That I might…”

“Y/n, baby, I’m so sorry. I just-” Your name fell from his lips like a plea, but you couldn't stand there and listen to him try to mend what was already so irreversibly broken.

“No- Just stop.” You blurted, turning away and pulling yourself from his grasp. “I’ve been second to her my whole life. I’m numb to it now. But don’t make excuses for your shitty decision. If you want to go, go.” With that, you pushed away from him, heading back to the party and away from the man who, come tomorrow, would be forever out of reach.

The next morning you woke up, eyes burning from the tears shed the night before and chest heavy with guilt.

Part of you knew there was a better way to say the things you did, but another part reveled in your cruelty. Basked in how dumbstruck Steve looked standing on the lawn. Maybe it was mean, but so was he.

It wouldn't matter for long. The afternoon sun was creeping in and soon he would be gone. Nothing but a distorted memory of a man you used to love. But at least he knew. At least when he laid beside his consolation prize he would remember you. Maybe he would hurt. You cringed at the idea.

No matter how much you wanted to hate Steve, your heart simply wouldn't allow it. That was the worst joke of all. You despised the man you loved.

Buck: He’s waiting for you…

You looked down at your phone on the bedside table, wiping away the tear that rolled down your cheek. You knew it was time. This was the moment that you had prepared for. But you made a promise last night- one you were far too petty to fall back on now.

Though even still, as the seconds lulled by, guilt began to eat away at your brain and before you knew it you were half way out the door. Your feet dragged you down the hall, forcing you to confront the horrible truth.

You knew he was gone before Bucky even spoke the words. His eyes filled with a sadness only you could know. Shoulders slumped as he struggled to hold his gaze. He shook his head, affirming your worst fears as Sam’s panicked voice broke through the tension.

“Get him back here!” He shouted, his tone filled with dread. It was torture to watch, unberable to feel.

A loud crackle erupted through the air almost knocking you off your feet. Through the piercing white flash, you saw a figure. If you didn't know any better you would have thought-

There, in all of his glory, was Steve Rogers. Perfect and untouched. Like a statue carved from marble.

All you could do was gape, hand over mouth as he stepped down the tarmac, a smile that could instill world peace plastered on his pink lips. Your whole body vibrated with nerves. Somewhere between anger and hope.

Your name fell from his lips, but you couldn't hear it over the hammering of your heart, your feet already carrying you across the field.

“What the hell are you-”

“It’s you, doll.” He beamed, his words only fueling a rage that was threatening to boil over the closer you got. “It’s always been you. I can't believe I didn't see it until-”

Your fist colliding with his stoney jaw cut him off before he could finish. You pushed against his, palms thrashing at his chest as he tried to fend you off. Of course, he could if he truly wanted to, you knew this.

“Y/n, just listen to me.” He begged, holding your wrists tight as you went to take another hit. You tried to yank yourself away from him, but it was no use. “I was stupid, doll. A complete idiot and I didnt see what was right in front of me. Tell me it’s not too late. Tell me I still have a chance.” Steve's eyes brimmed with tears as your heart thundered in your chest.

You could only blink, your mind racing between a thousand reasons to walk away. To close the chapter on your love with Steve for good. So why did you stay? As if it wasn't torture enough. As if he hadn't beaten your heart black and blue with his carelessness. You wanted to run, but amidst the broken shards of your heart was a naive girl desperate with hope. And so, with a half step, you closed the distance, taking the deadly plunge as your lips collided with his.

Steve drank you in, his mouth moulding to yours the instant you met. His hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you in until you arched back against him. Nothing in the world could have prepared you for how completely and irrevocably intoxicating he was. His presence over you melting you into a puddle before him.

Steve's tongue gently ran across your bottom lip pulling a gutteral shutter to wrack through your body. The taste of him permanently cemented into your mouth. It was the soft moan that escaped the back of his throat that finally did you in, buckling your knees as you held onto the soldier for dear life.

It wasn't until Sam’s voice echoed around you that you finally pulled away from Steve. Your body’s untwining as the rest of the world came back into focus.

“Does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on? What is she talking about?” Sam shouted, pointing his finger at you exasperatingly.

“I- I… I don't…” Your words fell to the back of your throat, the memory of Steve’s lips ingrained in your skin. You couldn't think, much less form a coherent sentence as he looked down at you, that boyish grin plastered on his mouth. The way his eyes sparkled, tears filled with a longing you had seen many times, but never from him.

“Were you not coming back?!” Sam blurted abruptly causing Steve to snap his head in the falcons direction.

“No.” Steve spoke simply, his gaze returning to you. Eyes filled with an answer you had been wracking your brain for. “I could never leave my best girl.”

You scoffed, your gaze only leaving Steve’s for a moment. His words were kind, his lips intoxicating. But there was a nagging in your heart, pulling you from your dreamstate and back to reality.

“Best girl, huh?” You signed, leaning into him as you chased his touch. “I think I’m going to need you to prove that, Rogers.”

Steve chuckled, the low rumble vibrating through your chest. His smile seemed brighter than you’d ever seen, reassuring you that this was the only place he wanted to be. “For as long as I can, darling.”

#steve x reader #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader

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gogglor · 3 years

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Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely. Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear. “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel. I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN. They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern? Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09. You look like shit. They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way. Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy. Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered. Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram you sent. Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

#capimrecweek #tony stark #Steve Rogers #stony #fanfiction #MCU #ficrec

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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bad idea. | remus lupin

thank u, next x marauders

alexa, play bad idea by ariana grande

pairing: remus lupin x reader (rivals to lovers)

summary: you and remus are rivals. after james and sirius find out about your fear of werewolves, they use it to exploit you, and help remus

word count: 4,393 (i'm sorry)

warnings: violence, language, mentions of trauma

a/n: haven't worked on this series in a while but whatever lol. this piece took my like two months from when I first started it because I kept changing it but oh well, enjoy - kennedy

***

Nothing felt better than being top in the class academically. Seeing the perfectly round ‘O’ at the top of a paper after getting it back was one of the few things that made me truly happy and proud of myself. I always thought that getting all these excellent marks would place me first place in my class, but I guess I was wrong. Unfortunately, I wasn’t first place. I was first equal.

Remus Lupin: the only person who could give me a run for my money. Every day in class was a battle to see who would win the unspoken competition. Subtle glances, snide comments, rolling eyes, you name it. It was even harder with the fact that Remus was a lot of the time my work partner as most teachers had the same idea of pairing up their brightest students.

I didn’t necessarily hate the guy. There was just something in my guts that made me nervous around him, something disguised as a disliking. He was just too friendly, it didn’t make sense why out of everyone, he didn’t like me.

***

Another day, another frustration. Potions class had started and it was brewing day. The classroom was stuffy, making it hard to breathe through my tightly collared shirt. My hair was pulled off my face as I tried desperately to cut up fluxweed into manageable. The swimming fumes of the half done potion was flooding my senses and making it hard to see or perceive anything that was going on. It was roulette for the cutting knife and my finger.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Remus muttered under his breath, bringing his attention to how I was preparing the ingredients. Huffing, he pulled the cutting board towards his side of the work bench and held out his hand, asking for the knife silently.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” I scowled, reluctantly handing over the knife to the rough looking boy. My eyes lingered a little too long over his delicate skin, mentally tracing each and every one of his mysterious scars, until my thoughts were cut still by Remus shoving the cut weeds in front of me.

“I hope you know how to put them in the cauldron.” There was a hint of cheek in his comment which I glossed over, poking my tongue out of my mouth and turning away from him, doing what he said. One by one, I carefully dropped the fluxweed into the bubbling concoction.

Grabbing my wand, I mixed the potion, watching Remus out of the corner of my eye. He seemed fixed and concentrated on cutting the leeches up, ignoring my presence completely. It wasn’t unusual to get the cold shoulder from my potions partner, but somehow, it still hurt like the very first time.

“Add these in now.” Remus commanded nonchalantly, pushing the cut up leeches onto the bench for me. Rolling my eyes, I brought my forefinger and thumb to the nearest leech and picked it up, feeling the grimy texture on my skin. All of a sudden, I felt a burst on pain ripple through my finger, my vocal chords letting out a loud yelp, as the leech’s teeth bit deep into my forefinger. Looking down, a thick line of blood was dripping down my finger, the leech still connected to my skin.

“Are you okay?” Remus must’ve heard my cry and immediately turned to me. He brought his hands to mine, gently cradling my bleeding wound. There must’ve been some poison in the leech’s venom as my finger started to discolour and turn a worrying shade of black. Even my head was feeling lightheaded. Trying to keep my balance, I placed my nondominant hand on the workbench to help keep me up, but it failed, falling into Remus’ arms.

“No.” I croaked out, the pain almost unbearable now. The veins on my hand were red and livid, with a dark, black bruise circling the bite mark. The leech was removed from my finger, probably by Remus, and my wound was on clear display. To top it all off, blood must’ve dropped into the ongoing potion as it was hissing angrily, turning a deep purple, not the soft yellow colour that it should’ve been. “You said you cut all the leeches. Why was that bloody thing alive?”

“I’m sorry.” Remus helped to sit me down on a chair but I was failing to keep my weight on my feet, toppling over at the slightest change in balance. My head was swarming with pain and white splotches danced in the corners of my vision. “I thought I cut them all. I didn’t realise I had missed any.”

By now, Professor Slughorn had come to see what the commotion was all about and had seen me barely conscious on a stool. He was trying to communicate but all I was focused on was the infection spreading up my hand. All the veins on my hand were now brick red, throbbing desperately. Shooting tendrils of pain were spiraling up my arm; a one way track to my heart and lungs. The only thing keeping my tethered to reality was Remus’ tight hold on my body, keeping me up right and conscious.

“Take her to the infirmary.” I could just make out what Professor Slughorn was saying by the way his lips moved and the vague sounds coming from his mouth. My lips involuntarily squinted as I felt myself being hoisted up and forced to walk out of the classroom, Remus’ tight grip around my waist never faltering.

He seemed desperate to keep a conversation with me going, talking to me the entire way to the hospital wing, trying to keep me from passing out. We were just about halfway there when my feet got caught up in the ground and my eyes succumbed to the white light ebbing my vision. My eyes rolled back into my head as I passed out in Remus’ arms.

***

“She just passed out?” Sirius asked, almost incredulous as Remus retold his encounter with Y/N from earlier in the day.

The four marauders were sitting in the grand hall, slowly munching away at their lunch. Guiltily, Remus took small bites, feeling remorseful as he knew Y/N wouldn’t be able to spend her lunchtime in the grand hall too. She was still in the hospital wing being treated for something Remus did.

“Flabbergasted leech! I forgot that they were deadly venomous. I should’ve been more careful when cutting them up.” Remus stabbed angrily at his salad, twirling his fork in exhaustion, his eyes never looking up to meet his friends.

“It’s not your fault, mate,” James tried stepping in to calm him down, placing his hand on Remus’ shoulder in a calculated manner. “Anyway, I thought you hated her.”

Remus scoffed, taking a bite out of a stray lettuce leaf. “I don’t hate her. She just gets on my nerves. Always trying to get top in the class. I don’t even care about being top, it just pisses me off that she tries so much.”

“But why?” Peter shrugged, a confused look on his face as Remus pondered the question.

In all honesty, Remus had no idea why he had such a negative attitude towards Y/N. Something about her always riled him up in a way he never expected. He just had to get on her nerves and annoy her. It was like he craved to come out better than her.

“I don’t know. I just really want to knock her down a peg. I’m not sure if it’s the full moon talking but I just want to annoy her in some shape or form, y’know?”

“Let’s prank her. Rile her up a bit.” Sirius suggested playfully, poking Remus with the fork in his hand, prodding at the thinking boy.

“Maybe. She’s already pretty pissed at me because of the leech situation. I don’t want to get her even more annoyed.” Remus looked quickly between the three other boys, who already seemed encapsulated in another conversation. “Whatever, I don’t care. Prank her if you want. After the full moon tonight though.”

Sirius’ face lit up with delight when he heard those words fall from Remus’ lips. “Alright! That’s more like it.”

Clapping Remus on the back, James nodded eagerly, mischievous looks bouncing between the three of them. Remus couldn’t care less. All he could think about was if Y/N was okay.

***

Stumbling through the halls, I managed to find my way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. I had just been discharged from the hospital wing, with Madame Pomfrey advising me to stay longer. I left though; I hated missing class. Also, Professor Merrythought said that it was going to be a practical lesson today and I didn’t want to miss it.

Apparently, there was still a little bit of poison left in my bloodstream, but according to Madame Pomfrey, it would be all out of my system by tomorrow morning. I just had to be careful that I didn’t injure myself anymore.

Standing outside the door, I swiftly knocked and entered the classroom. I wasn’t entirely late; class had only started ten minutes ago. Everyone seemed to be crowded on one end of the classroom, so I easily blended in with the group of students. Without acknowledgement, Professor Merrythought continued on with her lesson, only a slight look in my direction to tell that she was aware that I had shown up.

“Can anyone tell me what is in this wardrobe?” Professor Merrythought asked the class. Annoyed, I realised that I couldn’t answer the question as I hadn’t been there for the start of the class and had missed all the introduction. Scowling, I noticed Remus’ hand shoot up in the air. “Yes, Mr Lupin?”

“It’s a boggart.” Remus started, blissfully unaware that I had arrived in class. “A boggart doesn’t have a permanent form and takes the shape of what fears you most. No one knows what it looks like when it isn’t in the form of a fear.” He finished smuggly, a cocky grin smothered all over his face. Unknowingly to him, he had forgotten a crucial detail.

When Remus finished his monologue, I raised my hand up from behind him, a sly smile also on my face. Professor Merrythought caught my hand with her eye and nodded sweetly at me. “Yes, Miss L/N?”

Remus spun around. His brows were knitted together and he looked annoyed, that cheeky grin wiped off his face. Winking at him discreetly, I continued with what I was going to say. “The incantation to eradicate the boggart is Riddikulus, though it won’t banish the boggart indefinitely; only disarm it temporarily. While saying the charm, you must think of an element of fun as the only thing to get rid of a boggart is to get rid of the fear itself.”

“Exactly.” Professor Merrythought began addressing the class. “Now, I would like you all to go off and practise saying the charm for ten minutes. Then we can reconvene and practise on the actual boggart.”

Leaving the group of students, I went off to a quiet corner, muttering “riddikulus” over and over under my breath. Pointing my wand and waving it with the right hand motion, I practised the charm, until I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, waking me from my daze.

“Remarkable work, L/N. I see hospital life wasn’t treating you too well? You’re back sooner than I expected.” Remus quipped, obviously trying to start a quarrel with me.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to miss a lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts, would I? Then I wouldn’t get to see your darling face.” I replied sarcastically, a fake sickly sweet undertone in my voice.

“You’ve seemed to mistake my friendliness as infatuation. I must change my attitude towards you immediately.” His voice was trying to come out dauntingly, but it was quite cute.

“You’ve must’ve interpreted my words incorrectly. You see, it wasn’t my longing for you that made me turn up to class. It was actually because I didn’t want your ego to get too big, thinking you were the top student. I came to class to put you in your place.”

The sternness in his face seemed to let go as he noticed how serious my tone was. I admit, it was quite harsh but I didn’t care now. My message went across loud and clear. Unfortunately, our conversation was interrupted by Professor Merrythought calling us students back to the wardrobe.

“So,” Remus said, starting a conversation, “what’s your biggest fear?”

I chuckled slightly, turning to look at Remus’ genuine face. “Honestly, I have no idea. I wouldn’t know where to start when thinking about my fears. Maybe failure? I’m not sure.” I let the vulnerability fall from my lips, forgetting that it was my biggest rival that I was talking to. “What about you?”

“Same. Haven’t a clue.” Remus said as we arrived at the group. Remus walked slightly away from me, back towards his group of friends, so I walked up to some nice Ravenclaw girls that I had always gotten along with and listened to Professor Merrythought speak.

“Alright kids, I’d like for you to make a single file line. Miss L/N, Mr Lupin, since you two have the most knowledge already about boggarts, can you please start off today?”

Nodding, I walked to the front of the line, Remus getting in behind me. Behind us, the rest of our class formed a line, ready to get their hands on a boggart.

“Now, Miss L/N, what’s your biggest fear?”

Reiterating what I had said before, I informed Professor Merrythought that I had no idea what my boggart would turn into.

“Not to worry dear. You are very smart. Just, think of something funny, first thing that comes to mind. Now, I’ll open the wardrobe now,” Professor Merrythought walked closer to the wardrobe and placed her hand on the doorknob. “Are you ready?”

I nodded, my firm grip on my wand never wavering. As the wardrobe door swung open, the boggart emerged from the wardrobe in the form of a werewolf.

A werewolf?!

All of a sudden, memories start swarming in from my childhood. I started remembering all about the night where my younger brother was attacked by a werewolf, barely making it out alive. Tears started spilling from my eyes as my arms shook. As the werewolf darted forward, all I could remember was the night where our family was cornered. I had had nightmares for years afterwards. Subconsciously, I fell to the ground, unable to cope with the intense emotions anymore.

My head was feeling heavy and for the second time today, I felt like I was going to faint. It didn’t help that I still had poison in my veins, fogging my head from being able to think properly.

There was movement around me as I could vaguely hear Professor Merrythought say the incantation herself, putting the boggart back into the wardrobe. I was minutes away from collapsing onto the ground, the only thing keeping me up were two strong hands gripping onto my arms.

It became too much and for the second time that day, I fainted into Remus Lupin’s arms.

***

Sirius and James had watched what had happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts today, and they had taken notes. They had noted down how Y/N reacted to werewolves and a plan had formed collectively in their mind.

Tonight was the full moon and they both knew that meant Remus was going to transform into a werewolf himself. What better way to shake up poor Y/N then to let her meet her greatest fear.

***

Coming to, I woke up in the hospital room again, a pounding in my forehead. It seemed that waking up in the infirmary was becoming quite a familiar thing for me. Annoyed, I pulled the covers off my body and started for the exit, before being stopped by Madame Pomfrey.

“Miss L/N, please, just stay here overnight. You’ve dealt with a lot of trauma today and it would be best for you to rest here until morning.”

I knew where she was coming from but there was nothing worse than sleeping in one of those uncomfortable hospital beds, so I shook my head, giving Madame Pomfrey a grateful smile.

“I think it would be best for me to continue resting in my own dorm.” I pulled myself out of Pomfrey's grasp and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor. “Thank you for your concern though.”

The corridor was less stuffy than the hospital wing and the fresh air did wonders for my forehead. I felt like I had just been born again as I walked out of halls and into the outside world. The sun had just set over the horizon and the full moon was peeking up over the hills. It looked beautiful tonight, the bright light shining in the sky, reflecting on the black lake. The stars stood out against the moon, the constellations telling stories I couldn’t even decipher. I felt at peace in the night air.

Deciding to take the long way back to my common room, I disregarded the curfew rules, opting for a peaceful stroll instead. Walking out of the clock tower, I made my way through the courtyard, the light breeze sending ripples of goosebumps onto my skin. It was slightly chilly but nothing that bad, so I continued my journey.

The grounds were quiet tonight. Hagrid must’ve gone to sleep early tonight as there was no light shining from his cabin. It was an unusual sight but it made me realise how dark it was actually getting. Knowing that since I had already had two sleeps today and I probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep right away, I decided to stay out longer, muttering “lumos” under my breath. Immediately, my wand lit up, letting light shine into the night.

That’s when I heard rustling from the bushes. Cautiously, I spun around, my wand pointing directly at the direction of the noise. Squinting, I tried to make out what was coming from where the noise came from.

Was that a person?

All of a sudden, I could make out the face of Sirius Black, absolute terror replacing his normal dug grin. His eyes looked frightened and he was a stuttering mess.

“Oh merlin, Y/N, I’m so glad you’re here.” He was panting, stopping to catch his breath. “It’s Remus. He’s hurt.”

It was as if all my negativity towards Remus dropped in an instant. All I felt was concern for my self delegated rival. Immediately, I went off running from the same direction that Sirius came from, with Sirius eventually coming up at my rear, running beside me.

“Quick, towards the shrieking shack.” He stated and I nodded along. There was noise in the air tonight. I couldn’t tell if it was a dog howling or an owl hooting, all that I knew was that it made me sick to the stomach.

We stopped running when we reached the Whomping Willow. My heart stopped as I looked up the tree branches, somehow immobile. My gut was telling me to run away, but I looked back at Sirius, a pleading look in his eyes, and remembered that Remus was supposedly in there, supposedly injured.

“Lead the way.”

I gestured to Sirius and he beckoned me to follow him, kneeling down as he crawled through a hole at the base of the tree. Nervously, I followed, taking out my still illuminated wand and holding it close to my body. Only the light from my wand was lighting up the tunnel as Sirius and I walked further and further into the darkness. As we walked, the more and more concerning sounds I heard, including whimpering and some howling. My skin was itching but I fought the urge to run and we were suddenly at the entrance to another area.

Carefully, Sirius opened the door, leading us into a run down house. The walls were scratched up with claw marks and there were shreds of fabric littered all over the ground. A dingy smell of body odour and flesh was filling the room and I noticed how bloody hot it was in this shack, common sense telling me to pull off the sweater I was wearing.

Suddenly, Peter burst in through one of the rooms, always wearing a panicked look on his face. “Quick. James is injured here.”

I paused for a moment, my head spinning. I thought Remus was the one that got injured? But I didn’t have much time to think as a deer randomly sprinted out from one of the rooms, racing past me, it’s prongs slicing past my arms. I hissed as blood sept slowly from the wound, a stinging sensation flooding my arm.

Creeping in the direction the deer came from, I emerged into a room, stopping as I noticed the creature in the corner of the room. A huge werewolf was standing there, panting loudly, whimpering from its mouth. It’s paws were paling anxiously at the wall.

Then, it spun around, it’s nose twitching with excitement. It pounced forward at me, obviously being able to smell me from the other end of the room. I was too scared to move, the mouth agape as I watched the werewolf corner me against the wall.

It’s claws came swiping at me, cutting deep into my chest. One of the sharp talons cut on my neck, the wound bleeding much more than the others. The pain washed over me as I felt a tug at my arm, pulling me into another room. The door locked behind us, leaving the werewolf alone in the room.

Sirius was looking down at me as I fell to the ground. I couldn’t do anything anymore. Exhaustion caught up to me and I passed out for the third time today. The only thing different was that it wasn’t in Remus’ arms.

Oh shit.

Remus.

***

It wasn’t unusual for me to wake up in the hospital wing now. It seemed to be late morning, as sunlight was streaming in through the window. I felt groggy but I mustered up another courage to prop myself upright on the pillow and scanned around the room. Directly in front of me, I could see James lying down on one of the hospital beds, a deep wound on his arm, bandaged up.

Next to him was Peter. All he had was a bandage over his head and a black eye, but he seemed to be completely asleep, as he didn’t wake up to when Sirius started talking to James next to him.

Sirius didn’t look nearly as injured, although he had a few bruises littered on his legs. He seemed to be in a furious conversation with James and someone else. With all I could, I listened in to the conversation, trying to grapple on to what happened.

“We shouldn’t have brought Y/N to the shack.” My heart dropped, remembering what happened. There was a werewolf that attacked me last night. It must’ve attacked all four of the marauders. That’s why Sirius was looking for me, because Remus was attacked. That’s why Peter said James was injured. He must’ve also been attacked by the werewolf.

Keeping my consciousness a secret, I slipped out of bed, avoiding the prying eyes of Sirius and James, and darted to what I assumed to be Remus’ bed.

His bed was surrounded by a curtain for the most privacy of the five of us. I didn’t know why until I looked inside and saw how battered and bruised he was. He must’ve been attacked the worse by the werewolf.

There was a gash, cutting across his face, slicing up his eyebrow. His chest was bare as a bandage was covering what seemed to be a deep cut, as it was already bleeding through the crème coloured linen, turning it a scarlet red. Remus did seem to be awake though so I approached his bed.

Sitting beside him, I reached out for his hand. I startled him, as he turned briskly around but melted at my touch as he saw my face. A look of guilt was spreading through his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Y/N-”

I cut him off. “There’s no need for you to apologise, Remus. You were also attacked by that werewolf last night.”

A confused face appeared on Remus before it contorted into something else. Contentment. “Right. I was attacked by the werewolf.”

“And you seem to have gotten the worst of it. You look terrible.” I tried making a joke and ease the tension, but making Remus laugh only seemed to cause him more pain as he clutched his rib.

“Y/N…”

“Remus?”

“Why are you afraid of werewolves so much?” He asked. I sighed, knowing there was no avoiding this question now.

“My family was attacked by a werewolf when we were younger. Well, I say my family. My younger brother was the target and he suffered a lot. I just feel so upset and guilty because of it. It should’ve been me. He was too young.”

“I’m sorry.” Remus said, reaching out so his other hand was touching mine. “That’s a horrible thing to go through.”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible to you.” I finally admitted, looking Remus dead in the eye. “I’ve always been so cruel to you for no reason and there’s no excuse for it. Like today, you helped me when I fainted twice. You had no need to do that, yet you did. Thank you.” Remus started talking but I cut him off. “Seriously Lupin, you mean a lot to me. I’m sorry our little rivalry got to me.”

Remus stayed quiet as his finger rubbed gently against the back of my hand. It seemed like he didn’t know what to say next so I decided to break the ice and end the awkwardness. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips gently to Remus’ cheek, watching as a pink tint flushed to the surface. I pulled away from his grasp, walking to the curtain.

“Again, thank you.”

And I walked away, hurt that he never said anything back.

#harry potter #marauders era #marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin imagine

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aftgficrec · 3 years

Note

Hey, can you find me fics of the whole thanksgiving-Drake fiasco but in Andrew or Kevin’s POV. Preferably Andrew. You guys are really amazing 😫

There are a few WIPs recreating the whole series from Andrew’s pov, find them here. Some fics from that ask are listed below, and the others have not yet reached that scene.

‘Cross the Board and Crown Yourself Queen’ here is Kevin’s pov of AFTG, but again, has not yet covered Drake. You can subscribe to these fics or their authors to catch any updates.

There are not a lot of fics that are exactly what you’re looking for. However, there are many previous recs that include an attack by Drake or Andrew’s childhood with him or living with/working through that trauma in a variety of settings/povs.

Some of these carry heavy trigger warnings. - A

Also see:

The new fics recced at the bottom of Andrew bad days/trauma here

‘Monster’ here

‘Pickaxe’ here

You may also like:

Andrew breaks down here

Andrew dealing with past sexual assault here

Andrew talks to Cass post-canon here

Andrew in foster care here

Neil kills Drake here

Foxes react to Andrew’s past here

Nicky and Thanksgiving here (‘Thanks for nothing’ is Kevin’s pov)

Wymack’s pov: ‘Yes, Coach’ Ch 8 here and ‘I can’t carry this anymore’ here

‘“I have contemplated becoming a hermit.”’ here

‘both hungry and awake’ here

‘bare: a fox opera’ (since updated) here

‘Hidden in the Folds of Your Wings’ here

‘Minyards' Magical Mischief’ here

‘Tragic by association’ here

‘Oakland’ (since updated) here

‘Fire Burns;Underneath My Skin’ here

‘A boy made of lies and promises’ and ‘Promise of an Unbroken Boy’ (since updated) here

‘Marked’ here

‘There are bad days and then there are good days’ here

‘Therapy session,’ ‘Bottom Line,’ and ‘Ink Stains and Paper Cuts’ here

‘These Days’ and ‘Oh Brother Of Mine’ here

‘Love, Loved, lover(s)’ here

‘The Bodyguard’ here

‘Apartment 314’ here

‘Twinyard Bonding’ and ’I just want…’ here

‘Normal Isn't a Virtue’ here

‘our veins are busy (but my heart's in atrophy).’ here

‘What it takes to survive’ (now complete) here

Aaron’s pov:

‘Crux’ here

‘met you in the dark (you lit me up)’ here

‘Fucked up by the blame’ here

‘Aaron Minyard Vs. Calculus’ here

‘Aaron having nightmares’ here

‘Shards of Glass’ here

‘All My Barbed Parts’ here

Aaron’s trial:

Aaron loses the trial here

‘Not all wins can be celebrated’ here

’No Hope in Solitude’ here

‘Don’t Mind Us’ and ‘horns are broken halos’ here

‘“Can you just hold my hand?”’ here

‘I’ve been silent for so long’ here

‘aaron & neil talking after aaron’s trial’ here

‘Tumblr Headcanons...Ch 8′ here

‘The Kandreil Continuation’ Part 1 here

‘Another Minyard’ here

‘The Aftermath’ here

‘there’s a niche in his chest…’ here

‘Sophomore Slump’ (since updated) Ch 8, ‘Trust Fall…’ (Ch 10 is Aaron’s trial but Andrew deals with healing from Drake throughout), and ‘Lessons in Cartography’ Ch 8 here

growing up it made me numb by felinedetached [Rated M, 2037 Words, Incomplete, Updated 2018]

Andrew has never been the kind of person to break easily. He knows his limits intimately; knows what it would take to stretch them, what it would take to break them, and knows what it would take to utterly bulldoze them. Luther and Drake did the third, as a pair; stretching and breaking and bulldozing the limits of his patience, his calm, his restraint. Together, they take family and make it synonymous with poison, and Andrew hates them all the more for it. Drake takes laughter and physical contact and twists them both into something ugly, while Luther takes truth and honesty and belief and turns it into a commodity—something that he owes everyone, but does not believe anyone will give him.

tw: rape, tw: implied/referenced incest, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: canonical character death, tw: blood, tw: non-consensual restraint, tw: trauma reenactment, tw: abuse of power, tw: psychological abuse

Lost Boy by eyes_like_a_miracle [Rated M, 6401 Words, Complete, 2016]

A look through Andrew's eyes during some of the major events in the series.

Since I did use scenes and quotes from the series, I'm going to put a disclaimer on this one: All copyright rights to the characters, dialogue, and canon events belong solely to Nora Sakavic. I don't own any of it; please don't sue me. I'm broke.

tw: rape, tw: canon typical violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: canonical character death, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: ptsd, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: alcohol, tw: blood, tw: trauma reenactment, tw: psychological abuse, tw: abuse of power

never fallen (from quite this high) by crystalcrow [Rated M, 225131 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2021]

For most people, a problem is a matter or situation regarded as unwelcome or harmful that needs to be dealt with or overcome.

For Andrew Minyard, it’s the word that fits Neil Josten with a capital P.

(or, aftg from andrew’s pov)

tw: rape, tw: alcohol, tw: canon typical violence, tw: homophobia, tw: homophobic slur, tw: drugs. tw: non-consensual drug use, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: blood, tw: canonical character death, tw: vomit, tw: psychological abuse, tw: withdrawal, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

[Un]broken by City_Of_Paper_And_Ink [Rated M, 7126 words, complete, 2020]

These are eight small, and big, scenes that span the three books but I wanted them to be in Andrew's POV because his mind is so interesting to be in. The first one starts out with Drake but I really thought that adding it in gives the rest of the stories some sort of backbone to how Andrew is, and the scene isn't long because I couldn't do that to myself. Also the song lyrics for each scene is Broken by Anson Seabra!

tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self-harm

The Tell of a Truth by bitwicre [Rated G, 1433 words, complete, 2018]

One shot of the scene where Neil shows Andrew his scars in The King’s Men from Andrew’s POV. Just a quick character study of Andrews character and how he sees Neil.

tw: scars

Scars by all_my_dreams_and_ambitions [Rated M, 3098 Words, Complete 2018]

An AU where the injuries of one soul mate appears on the skin of the other, but they aren't as severe. This is a oneshot focusing on Andrew's take on what happened to Neil in Baltimore after they played the Bearcats.

When he’d been younger, Andrew had never thought himself worthy of a soul mate. His own mother hadn’t wanted him, let alone a random stranger. Then, he felt the sharp pain of a knife on his ribs. A few months later, the hot press of an iron left him blistered and red under his shirt. Years later, the shape of a bullet hole appeared in his shoulder and that’s when he realized he’d been wrong the whole time.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: scars

Soulmates who can feel each other’s pain by @nickyhenmick [Tumblr Fic, 2017]

Anonymous said:

Soulmates who can feel each other’s pain for Andreil <3<3

tw: canon typical violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con

Art

Trust Abram. art by @ikusabas and @rudy--steiner

“Then don’t trust ‘Neil’...Trust me.” art by @leefyetime

the aftermath of drake’s death edit by @scodders (tw: blood/gore)

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

I'm Gonna Crawl: Post 2

Post 1

Summary: Five years. That's how long the reader and Bucky have been apart (although for him, it was only five minutes) Now with Thanos defeated and both of them taking up the mantle of Avengers, can their relationship return to what it was? Or will they have to discover a new normal?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! super-soldier! Reader (Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language, smut (IF YOU ARE UNDER EIGHTEEN, DON'T READ!!!)

*************************************************

One of the perks of being “enhanced” or in this case, a super soldier, is that you heal quickly. Within seventy-two hours, the bullet wound in his leg (not to mention the cut and black eye he sustained from several sharp blows to the face) and her matching one in the shoulder are almost completely healed, only a vague pink mark to show they were ever injured. The downside is-

“Do you want to punch sandbags until they fly off the hook, or run thirty miles around the compound first? I’ll start with whichever you don’t pick.” -they’re back to training as well.

He almost answers that he really doesn’t want to do either, it’s Sunday morning, for fuck’s sake, but it’s not like this is her first choice for what she could be doing this morning either, so he goes with-

“Punching things first. Think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, so I’d best get it out of my system.” She nods and, squeezing his arm, takes off at a jog.

“See you on the other side.”

His instinct is to tell her to take it easy, she lost a lot of blood the other day and who knows if there’s been some bone or muscular damage that hasn’t quite fixed itself yet, but again, he swallows it down and focuses on the task at hand. Namely, taking out his bad mood on a punching bag.

Usually, when his body is in motion, his mind is at least somewhat at rest, but this time around, the exertion is just adding fuel to the flames. He’s too pissed off to just zone out and concentrate on hitting the target, still too busy trying to process what the hell happened three nights ago.

It was their first mission together. She’s been on a few separate from him, and he and Sam get called out together on the regular. Stupidly, he assumed that, since her specialty is translating or gathering intel, maybe being the little voice in someone’s ear to direct them through a maze of assailants and twisting corridors her visions had allowed her a glimpse of ahead of time, she’d be out of the line of fire. At the very least, most of the attention would be on him and Sam. But no, she was the bogey. She drew fire while he waltzed through a military fortress, recapturing stolen tech. When Rhodey so much as mentioned that possibility, he should’ve told him no, hard no. If anyone’s drawing fire, it’s him. Still, in his arrogance, he assumed it wouldn’t come to that extreme. Sam’s good at his job, and as much as he hates the reason behind it, so is he. They should’ve been able to hold the line without her painting a target on her back.

That, of course leads to yet another issue. He’s also pissed at himself for instinctively seeing her as more fragile, something that needs to be protected. Even before the same chemicals running through his veins infected her, she’d proven that she’s a damn capable person. He knows that she’s smart, both strategically and academically. Add onto that the fact that she’s fast and strong, not to mention she has visions (less than helpful ones most of the time, but they have their moments), and she’s a powerful ally. He certainly wouldn’t want to be on her bad side. And yet, when he saw that she’d been hit, his mind completely emptied. He wouldn’t have been able to remember which end of a gun to use if his life depended on it, because all he could think was, “Oh god. She’s hurt.” It’s old-fashioned, outdated. He should be past this mindset, at least when it comes to work. Out there, she’s his fellow soldier, not the woman he lies awake next to in bed, sometimes for hours, just to listen to her breath and know he’s not alone. Did Steve ever put Peggy in that box, he wonders? No, of course not, because Steve’s a better man than he ever was or will ever be. So yeah, he’s pissed off at himself.

And finally, although he can barely admit it to his own mind, he’s pissed off at her. Logically he knows it’s mostly fear, some primal instinct to protect what’s his, but every time he imagines her being shot, having a bullet pass by her lungs and arteries by a very narrow margin, and then telling Sam not to let him know that she was hit, it irks him. Did she think he’d come unhinged? Screw up? Or is she stuck in the mindset she seems to have adopted as a response to the last five years of “Screw looking after myself. It doesn’t matter.” A small part of him realizes that he didn’t call in either when he took a bullet, but that’s him! And, now he’s circling back to guilt for treating her like she’s weak.

All in all, he’s so damn furious that he doesn’t realize he’s no longer alone until she grabs hold of his arm just as he goes to swing again.

“Jesus, Bucky. I know you’re grouchy, but don’t you think destroying five punching bags in thirty minutes is enough? Save some aggression for the run.”

He looks up to tell her something (I’m sorry? Damn right I’m grouchy? Let me take you home and wrap you in blankets so that nothing will ever hurt you again?) and catches sight of her sweat-soaked face. He hates how far she takes things with the running. It’s like she’s trying to see what the limits are, how much she can punish her body before it gives out and she drops. That’s what it was in the very beginning after the snap. She’s told him that. Now he wonders if she’s really as recovered from everything that’s happened as she claims.

“Have you had anything to drink? Water, or-” She groans and reaches to detach the punching bag (there’s a decent sized rip in it where he was hitting it over and over), making her shirt ride up. Her clothes were already so tight that just seeing her out of the corner of his eye was making it hard to think, but now they’re completely adhered to her in a way that’s nearly obscene thanks to all the sweat. Dammit. Think about something else. He needs to think about something else.

“Yes, I’m on my second water bottle, thank you Barnes. I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Just self-destructive.” It slips out before he can stuff it down. Her mouth falls open in shock momentarily, but then she squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eyes.

“You’re one to talk. Always running straight towards the fire instead of putting it out first.”

“That’s my job.”

“It’s your hangup.” She laughs bitterly. “Bucky Barnes, the big, bad Winter Soldier. You’ve decided you’re so fucked up that the only way you can make amends is to run headlong towards whatever’s trying to kill you, without backup I might add, and keep to your mission no matter what your personal damage is.”

“Says the woman who took a bullet and stopped Sam from announcing that you’re hit.” They’re teetering closer and closer to a fight with every nearly snarled word, but he’s powerless to stop it. In fact, he’s ready to go. Have it out. But not right now, because-

“Hey.” He catches her arm just as she starts to hoist another punching bag onto the hook. “Be careful! You’re still healing.” -she’s hellbent on hurting herself. Again.

She whirls around as if he’s slapped her.

“Oh my god. You have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop treating me like I’m going to break!” Her voice is shrill, rising higher and higher with each syllable. “I love you, but you are driving me insane. I am not your child-”

“No, you’re the person I want to marry!” He takes a deep breath, preparing to follow up with, “-and you keep acting like you have a death wish”, but before he can-

“You won’t even fuck me anymore!” Immediately, her eyes go wide and she slaps a hand over her mouth.

If her declaration surprised her, it absolutely stunned him so, not quite sure what else to do, he takes a few steps back and sits down. A few seconds pass before she approaches and, with a heavy sigh, sinks down next to him.

“Bucky, I am so sorry. I don’t know where any of this is coming from-”

“I think you do, Doll.” Her eyes dart nervously between his face and the floor. On instinct, he reaches over and takes her hand. “And so do I.” He takes a few moments to rearrange his thoughts before pushing ahead. “A lot has changed since-”

“The world ended. We lost. And then we won.” He nods.

“Yeah, and I don’t think either of us have quite wrapped our heads around it. I know I haven’t.”

It’s silent for a moment, and then, voice trembling, she tells him,

“After you went away, I was completely lost. Didn’t know why I had to stay. What kind of cruel trick is it, just when everything was starting to go right-” He finally had the poison of HYDRA sucked out of him, she’d found a safe place where she didn’t have to run and hide because of something she was born with, he’d worked up the nerve to ask her if she’d maybe one day be his wife. “-and then it’s wiped out? You finally went somewhere I couldn’t follow.” He still can’t imagine what those five years must’ve been like, not just for her, but everyone else who survived the snap. “I didn’t want to keep going. But I had to.” She chuckles. “Steve wouldn’t let me throw in the towel.”

A smile forms on his own face. “Yeah, he had a habit of doing that.”

“I guess…” She sighs. “I don’t know. I got harder, rougher around the edges. I thought I could just go back to normal once everyone came back-”

“But old habits die hard.” It’s not a question, but she nods.

“Yeah, and as much as I chip away at it, I’m not sure I’ll ever get back to who I was before.”

“You won’t.” She peers up at him, eyes wide in shock, maybe a hint of sadness. “I can tell you that right now from experience. You won’t go back, but-” He’s had a lot of time to consider this, so he can say it and absolutely believe it. “-I love the girl that’s here now. She’s pretty amazing, rough edges and all.”

She’s sitting so close. He could pull her into his lap, just hold her for a minute. So, that’s what he does, and just like the first time, they fit together perfectly, like she was made to fit in his arms, or maybe he was made to hold her. Either way, it leaves no doubt in his mind that they belong together.

“You changed. Everyone does. You got stronger and tougher, because that’s who you had to be. And I wasn’t there to change with you.” He can feel her shoulders shake, and even though she’s facing away from him, he knows she’s fighting back tears. “But I’m gonna catch up. It’s just taking me a while to get it through my thick skull that my girl’s a badass, and I need to ease off the bodyguard routine a little.” There. That’s more like it. A laugh, even if it’s a small one. “I just worry about you, is all. I don’t know how to stop it, and I’m not sure I can, but I’m working on it.”

“I worry about you too, you know.” She sniffs, swiping at her nose with her hand. “I’m fucking terrified because, now that I’m like you, I know what your limits are. I’m scared you’ll forget them, or you’ll ignore them because you’re trying to be a good man.” She cranes her head, meeting his gaze. “But you are a good man, Bucky Barnes. You never stopped being one, no matter what you think.”

“I think your picture of me might be more flattering than who I really am.”

“Shut up.” She presses her palm over his mouth. “I have visions, so seeing is never my problem. And it’s not the way I’m picturing you. We’ve known each other long enough for the shine to wear off.” Never. It’ll never be possible for him to know her so long that she’s not absolutely golden from where he’s standing. “It’s who you’ve shown me you are. And if the rest of the world doesn’t see it, that’s their problem. Not yours.”

He’s not sure if he buys all that, but it’s enough that she does. She sees him as that man, so he’ll try every day of his life to be just that.

“Come on.” Gently pushing her off of him, he stands and offers her his hand. “That’s enough training for today. We’re still wounded.”

She chuckles. “Is that your excuse for calling it early?”

He nods, barely suppressing a grin. “That, and you’ve gotta change into something that doesn’t fit you like a second skin before my brain permanently short-circuits.”

“Showers, then?”

“Showers.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

The compound sustained heavy damage thanks to Thanos crashing a ship into it, but in the past few months (helped along by Pepper’s billions and the entire galaxy’s appreciation towards the Avengers in equal parts), enough repairs have been done to make it partially usable. In this case, the locker room. Just the one, though. Which, of course means co-ed showers.

She won’t admit it, but she’s particularly appreciative of that little detail today. As she circled the compound on her last lap, she saw that the only two cars there are hers and Barnes. They’re the only two people here, and she fully intends to use that to her advantage.

“Join me? I don’t want to overextend my shoulder trying to wash my hair or back.” It’s a blatant lie, and from his expression, she can tell that he knows it too. But, he nods.

“Yeah, doll. I can do that.” Part one of the plan has been executed beautifully. Onward to part two.

She purposely leaves the travel sized bottles of shampoo and body wash on the floor so that, after rinsing off for far longer than is really necessary, she has to bend over to retrieve them. If it weren’t for her enhanced hearing, she’d completely miss the sharp intake of breath in response to her little show, but she catches it and can’t help grinning to herself. Part two: get him as worked up as she is. So far, so good.

The feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp, working the shampoo through her hair, is almost enough to make her forget that she’s a woman on a mission. Almost. As soon as she’s rinsed the soap out of her face, she turns to him.

“Your turn. Bend.” It’s not the first time they’ve done this, and as always, she has to fight back a laugh as he inclines his head towards her, the entirety of his hair falling forward to cover his face. “This used to take a lot longer before you decided to chop it all off.” He chuckles, eyes closed against the soap.

“What can I say? Seventy-three years without a haircut is my limit.” She can’t blame him, and although it was a shock at first, she’s come to like this new look. It makes him look…younger, somehow. More boyish. Like his life hasn’t contained as many horrors as they both know full well it has.

“You checking for lice or something?”

“Huh?” That jerks her out of her sentimental daze. “Looks like you’re clear.”

There’s no way to put it politely. She’s straight up ogling him as he rinses off. Five damn years…

“Ready to get your back?” And, she just got caught staring.

“Sure.”

His hands are gentle, putting as little pressure on her injured shoulder as possible, growing firmer as they work down her back. She holds her breath as she feels his palms ghost over the swell of her ass, but then he’s back to safer territory. At least, that’s what she thinks until the metal arm snakes around her chest, just below her breasts, holding her in place. His free hand runs down from her sternum to her middle, stopping just above her hips, then- fuck. Nothing. He’s backing away.

“Do you need help with your legs?” No, what she needs help with is located between them. Suddenly, the shower feels far too hot, and she’s desperate to cool off.

“That’s okay.” Her voice is shaky, and she mentally berates herself as she steps under the spray, rinsing away the soap.

She’s not at all sure that her excuse for leaving the shower and going to towel off made any sense, but with a few feet between them, she’s able to breath again. Alright, scratch the whole “shower seduction” idea. It wasn’t that great to begin with. She gets him as hot and bothered as she is, and then what? Shower sex is a slippery affair, and plus there’s the height difference… in the steamed up mirror, she catches sight of him climbing out of the shower and toweling off. Fuck it. What does she have to lose?

“Come here.” As he turns around, she hops up on the counter top (thank fuck Stark went all out and got the sinks that can easily hold the weight of an adult), allowing her towel to slip further down her chest.

She doesn’t miss the way his eyes flit down to her cleavage before settling back on her face as he stands in front of her.

“Yeah, Doll?”

“Let me get your hair. You’ll never get it dry yourself.” She’s really running low on excuses, but if she plays her cards right, she won’t have to keep up this ruse for much longer.

“You know-” She murmurs against his ear as she starts working a towel over his tousled locks, “-if you don’t take me right now, I’m gonna be really offended.”

His head snaps up, and she nearly drops the towel.

“Well, I can’t let that happen, can I?”

She has a smart-ass remark all planned out, but then his lips are pressed against hers, hard, insistent, and her brain completely empties of anything other than pure need. She’s not completely sure how, but somehow the towel wrapped around her torso (it’s so short, it didn’t even cover her ass sitting down) disappears, leaving them chest to chest, both still slightly damp from the shower. On instinct, her legs wrap around his back, bringing them so close together she can feel his cock twitch against her thigh.

“The floor, or-” It’s murmured against her ear between nibbles.

“No. Here.” It’s all she can do to hold back a moan as his whole body rumbles with quiet laughter.

“Someone’s eager.”

She leans back far enough to peer into his eyes.

“And you’re not?” The response is a thumb against her clit, and she has to bite down hard on his shoulder to muffle a yelp.

“If I’d known you were ready, you wouldn’t have gotten any sleep for the past two months.” That would’ve been a very small price to pay.

Five years is a long time, and her body tenses up at the intrusion of his finger inside of her, but she immediately forces her muscles to relax, and within seconds, it’s all she can do not to writhe against him.

“That’s it. Relax. I’ll take care of you.” It’s a lost cause. This is going to be noisy. She hazily thinks to herself that it’s all his fault.

He’s always been one for foreplay, making sure she’ll be comfortable once they actually get around to the main event, but finally enough is enough and, reaching between them, she stills his wrist.

“Get inside me.”

“Are you sure? You’re still tight-” Disentangling one of her arms from around his neck, she gives his hair a sharp tug.

“I’m like you now, remember? You’re not going to break me.”

He pulls back from her, hesitating, eyes darting between her face and the door.

“What?”

“I don’t have-” Oh. She quickly runs the calculations in her head. Given which day of the month it is, the likelihood would be-

“It’ll be fine. Just pull out.” To her relief, he doesn’t argue.

Her breath catches as he pushes inside of her, and if the panting against her neck is anything to judge from, she’s not the only one affected.

“It’s been too damn long.” Despite the situation (or perhaps because of it), she laughs breathlessly.

“You think it’s been too long? Try five fucking years!” His laugh tickles her neck.

“You’re never gonna stop using that one, are you?”

“Nope. I think I’ve earned the right.” After all, he constantly reminds her that he had to wait 98 years to meet the love of his life, so fair is fair.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“Sounds like you just set yourself a challenge.”

“Guess I’d better get to work then.” As he says it, he pulls nearly all the way out only to slam back in again.

It’s primal, the way their bodies move together, desperate for a connection that’s been missing for so long. There’s no room or need for words to be spoken; their gasped breaths and strangled moans say it all. His hand sneaks between them, toying with her nub, and that’s what sends her over the edge. It’s the tipping point for him too because, muffling his cries against her shoulder, he pulls out just in time.

“We shoulda done that before the shower.” She’s still gasping for breath, but it forces a laugh from her. He follows suit, offering her a spare towel to clean herself up.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Barnes.” He shoots her a questioning look as she hops down on shaky legs. “I thought it was good before, but damn.”

He laughs, pulling on his jeans. “I didn’t want to risk breaking the bed. I’m a gentleman like that.” She knows the real concern was her safety, but if she concentrates on that too hard, she’ll start going mushy, and in this instance, crying after sex seems like it would kill the mood.

“You know-” She pulls her t shirt over her head, not bothering with a bra. “-I never really liked the bed I have now anyway.” It’s also really too small for two full-grown adults to share comfortably.

Sliding his duffle bag over his shoulder, he takes her hand. “Then maybe we should go home? Give you an excuse to get a new one?” Before she can answer-

“Go home. Please, I’m begging you, for the love of god, go.” Her eyes dart towards the source of the noise. The door, or more specifically, the other side of it. “Hearing you and the bionic man fucking once was enough. I’m gonna shoot you both and then myself if I have to listen to round two.”

Bucky catches her eye and mouths “Oops!”, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“You know Sam, you could’ve just walked away. You didn’t have to wait outside the door like a creep.” She has to bite her fist to keep from laughing out loud.

“Yeah, trust me. I could hear you from all the way down the hall.”

“Sorry.” She gasps it out between bouts of laughter, and she must be pulling a funny face, because he snickers to.

“No, you’re not.” No, she really isn’t. Just that they got caught.

“We’re heading out. You’ve got the place to yourself.” Giving his hand a tug, she pulls open the door, revealing a flustered Sam.

“I hope you remembered to wipe down the counter, you nasties!”

As they make their way down the corridor, Bucky calls out,

“See you Monday?”

“Yeah. And you’d better be wearing pants!”

#marvel #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #post endgame #smut #part 2

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luzial · 3 years

Photo

I recently commissioned @salesart to do a portrait of Solas (aka “Song”) and Lavellan (aka “Ink”) from my fic, In And Out Of Time Again. I’m so thrilled with how it came out, especially all the little details that reference their codenames. Thank you SO MUCH to Sales for all your work on this piece, and for asking me all the hard-hitting questions like “what’s their height difference.” I had so much fun collaborating with you!

The first chapter of In And Out of Time Again is below the cut, and you can read the completed work on AO3.

Song has had many names. The latest suits him no better nor worse than the others. If he has one complaint, it is that this name lacks specificity. Fen’Harel was a name that was a lie, and a lie that has long since become irrelevant, but he cannot argue that it painted a clear and awful portrait. His other name, the one that came both before and after, he is only too glad to be rid of. He rarely thinks of it now.

Song is in his element in Strands like these, when he can submit to the demands of his teeth and claws and blessedly forget the version of himself that is not like this. It is simple here in the verdant expanse of his home, his first love. When a mountain stands in his way he moves it with a thought. When a beating heart must be silenced, he rips into it and tastes warm blood on his tongue.

His assignment today is a wonderfully simple one: a death. The target is ancient and powerful, though only in comparison to the other things of its world. Beside an agent of Music, it is nothing. He longs for a crush of strength against his own and for the moment when uncertainty asks him whether he can snap his target’s neck before it breaks him in two. The answer, of course, is that he will hear the crack of bone and hold its dying form within his jaws too quickly to satisfy the hunger that burns within him.

Still, he will try to afford it a fair fight.

When he finds the edges of its lair, Song realizes something is wrong. Demons should swarm around him, challenging his right to intrude on their master’s territory even as he cuts them down. There should be whispers here, a choir of disembodied voices singing the Melody’s secrets for those who know how to listen. Yet all that greets him are emptiness and silence.

The raw Fade has begun to reclaim this place, the green waters of its currents rising up to erode the poisoned ground that has been here for three thousand years. Song wanders farther in, his paws sinking deep into the muck, until finally he finds the corpse.

The fear demon that claimed this part of the Fade is gone, reduced to a husk of tangled limbs and fangs that still drip with venom. Song has arrived too late. The death has already been administered, but this means that the timing is all wrong, and for Music, timing is everything.

Whatever killed the demon has done so before it had a chance to strike a bargain with a young mage girl in Kirkwall. Now she will not murder her family and dozens of others; she will not leave alive one angry, orphaned sister. Thanks to this single fault in the rhythm, the entire Strand is lost.

Song is so annoyed by all the absences that at first he does not notice the addition. It is so impossibly out of place that for a moment he simply stares at it. Stuck to the venom on the dead demon’s fangs is a piece of finely-made paper that smells of sugar and flowers, its perfume somehow drowning the stench of the rotting carcass. He reaches out for it with a hand and fingers; it is a thing too delicate to be held by claws. The venom stings but he pays it no mind, for he has seen the single line written on the page in a delicate script: Touch me with fire that I be cleansed.

It must be a trap. Not the venom, of course. Whoever left this certainly knows it will take much more than that to wound him. It would be best to leave the note here and let it rot along with the rest of this discordant Strand. But this is a challenge and an invitation - words that hint at more words.

Song ignites the paper between his fingers and it is as if he has turned the first page in a book. He reads, and when he is done he has become the wolf again, mouth twisted to a snarl. When he has committed the words to memory, he shreds what’s left of the sweet-smelling paper between his claws and grinds it into the mud.

When Song is gone, a shade steps into the pawprints he left and searches until it finds every piece of the burned, shredded, filthy paper.

--------

Tell me I have sung to Your approval.

I’ve always been fond of the Canticle of Transfigurations, or at least of the versions that I’ve penned. Hopefully you have more than a passing familiarity with it as well, or the cosmic cleverness of what I’ve just done will be totally wasted on you. (But I suspect your familiarity is more than passing. If you are who I think you are, you’ve probably written versions of it yourself. If so, how do you deal with the bit in 10:1 about the moth and the flame? I feel like I can never get it quite ominous enough, you know?)

I’ve barely just begun and already I’ve distracted myself with all the questions I wish to ask you. But that just speaks to my point (that I’m about to make).

Is there anything in this world more insidious than words? It took me eight of them to grab your attention. Honestly, I could have managed it in fewer if I didn’t want to make a dramatic entrance. But I did.

I’ve been curious about you for a while now. It’s not like there are many things left to be curious about when you have all of time to catch up on anything you might have missed, so I should thank you for that novelty. I think the first time I saw you was during that bad business in the Deep Roads in Strand 398. I was the hurlock, you were the Grey Warden recruit. Our eyes met as I bit into your commander’s neck and tore out his windpipe. (Sorry about the mess, by the way - I really enjoy getting into character.)

You were definitely meant to lose that fight. I know - I’ve gone back and checked a lot of other Strands and that recruit always dies, the darkspawn always swarm, and the Third Blight always begins. But then you single-handedly cut down the horde after everyone else in your party had died. (I know because I stuck around after you chopped off my head with that broadsword - I just had to see what would happen!) You killed enough of them to prevent the swarm, even though you died for it in the end. (And of course you died for it - you’re good but no one’s that good.)

My point is: do you remember how it felt when that shriek bit into your arm and the Blight burned into your veins? Do you remember the way it spiraled into you, burrowing in your lungs and your heart and your gut until it felt like your body had always been its home? (I’ve been Blighted a lot so I’ve got some pretty good descriptors for it.)

Anyway, let me spell it out in case my metaphors are getting too convoluted: In this letter, I’m the shriek and my words are the Blight. I’ve bitten you and poured my words into you. Your memory will pump them through your mind just as surely as your heart pumped the Blight to the tips of your fingers and toes. Want a cure? Too bad, there isn’t one.

I’m not only writing to gloat. I meant what I said above - I appreciate the novelty you’ve brought to the battlefield. Things are dreadfully dull most of the time. Mainly the Story sends me off to retcon the occasional plot holes your Music introduces to the narrative. There’s very little chance for improvisation, so I have to find amusement where I can.

And this has been very amusing.

Sincerely, Ink

(Keep reading on AO3)

#Art of my fic!#salesart #in and out of time again #dragon age fanart #dragon age fanfic #solas x lavellan #solas #lavellan #solavellan #luzial writes

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slytherinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Sub Rosa [74]

iii. the children of gabriel

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: language, fighting, violence.

Summary: in the aftermath of the eclipse, you are faced with a mission to save a few of your own.

a/n: the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

None of you have long to process Rose’s words before Clarke anxiously says, “Uh, guys…”

You all look over to her, following her gaze to the group of approaching adults, armed guards taking the lead. You and Bellamy quickly stand and he reminds the group, “Remember, we're in their home. Everyone keep calm.”

Clarke glances at Raven, her gun still in her hand, and whispers, “Weapons down.”

Raven puts her gun down on the ground, and all of you stand as still and non threatening as you can as you watch the guards approach. As soon as the guards with spears catch sight of you, they start to run your way, and you all lift your hands in surrender and call out, “It's okay! We're from Earth, we come in peace.”

The guards form a semicircle around all of you, and a woman walks over to the unknown woman that your mom and the others brought with them. She grabs the captive woman softly, looking worried. “Kaylee, where have you been? Where's your family?”

The captive, Kaylee, turns and looks to your mom and Raven. “They killed them.”

You glance back at your mom with questioning eyes, and she nods, confirming it’s true. You turn back to the two women, catching the anger in their expressions, and you mutter, “Ah, shit.”

Almost as soon as the words leave your mouth, the Universe makes things worse and Murphy starts to seize up, gasping for air. You all spin around to look at him in alarm as your mom yells, “No, not now, not now!”

You drop down to Murphy’s other side, feeling responsible for his current predicament and his second near death experience in less than 12 hours. Maybe if you had been fast enough, had beaten Bellamy sooner, Murphy would be okay. You look up to the guards gathered around you and yell, “Help us, please! Our friend's dying!”

Murphy seizes for another second then goes completely still, and when your mom checks on him, she whispers in horror, “He's not breathing.”

She immediately starts CPR, and as she does, someone nearby calls out, “Let me pass.”

The crowd parts and a man steps into view, flanked by guards on either side. You don't need to know anything about this place to know that he is their leader, made obvious by the power that seems to follow him as he approaches. You can tell that the others are thinking the same thing, watching the man warily as he gets closer, dressed impeccably from head to toe. As soon as he’s close enough, he turns to the guards. “Move them back.”

The guards point their spears towards all of you, pushing you back and away, leaving Murphy on the ground alone. Your mom looks at the leader with anger. “What are you doing? He'll die!”

“You want my help or not?” At the mention of assistance, you all become compliant, moving away and giving the man the space he asked for. Bellamy walks over to you, coming to a stop beside you as the man drops to Murphy’s side and lifts up his shirt. “He's already dead. Fortunately for him, death is not the end.”

He calls out, “Cillian!”

A man, Cillian, materializes from the crowd, coming to stop beside his leader, who whispers, “He was exposed to the seaweed during the red sun. Do it.”

Your brows come together, wondering what that means, and you exchange a look with both Clarke and Bellamy, both of them just as curious. The man kneels down beside Murphy and reaches into his bag, pulling out a snake. You all look at it in shock as the leader informs you, “We call it Kepa-She, it means hideous snake in Chinese.”

Cillian holds the snake to Murphy’s side, encouraging it to bite him, as you all watch on in horror. Clarke mutters, “Oh, my God.”

The man looks up at her, expression understanding. “Trust me, I know, but the venom degrades too quickly to deliver it in any other form.”

Miraculously, the darkness that has traveled through Murphy's veins and spread across his body starts to retreat, moving back towards the source of the venom. You blink hard a few times, unsure if your eyes are working right, and when you look at Murphy again, you see now that he’s healed, his skin clear of the darkness. “It's working.”

“Amazing, isn't it? Its curative properties were discovered during one of the earliest red suns.” You all look up at the leader as he starts to project his voice, loud enough for the people around him to hear. “Poison made the demon Gabriel believe he could walk on water. The Kepa-She bit him, and the toxin from the seaweed had no effect.”

The demon Gabriel? You look between Clarke and Bellamy, all of you wearing equally disturbed expressions, weirded out by the leader’s words. But none of that matters when you hear Murphy take in a deep breath, gasping for air. You sigh in relief, watching as his chest rises and falls, full of life. “He's breathing!”

“Well done, Cillian.” The leader nods at the man, and then he turns to the guards that still surround you. “Now lock them up.”

They instantly descend on all of you, grabbing you by your arm and pulling you away, despite Clarke's protests. “Wait, where are you taking us? We didn't do anything wrong!”

They drag you all to a small building and usher you inside, leaving you there without another word. You look around, quickly releasing that you’re in some sort of tavern, with a bar situated in the middle of the room and a bunch of smaller tables spread out all around. The doors open again and a few guards carry in Murphy, laying him out on one of the larger tables before leaving again. A few minutes after that they return again, bringing in Miller, Jackson, Echo, and Emori, before they lock the doors behind them, all of you now accounted for. You catch all of them up on the little information that you have, and your mother catches all of you up on what happened on the mothership. Echo walks over to you as soon as you’re caught up, pressing close to you as she pulls you in for a hug. You look at her in confusion, about to ask what she’s doing, but she whispers in your ear, “Don’t react, hug me back.”

You do as she says, wrapping your arms around her, and you feel her tuck something into the waistband of your pants. “I saw your knife on the ground on the way over and I managed to grab it. Hopefully we won't need it, but in case you do…”

She trails off and you nod, understanding the implication. The two of you pull away, and you give her a small smile of appreciation, whispering quietly, “Thank you.”

She just nods once and then steps away, walking over to the bar that is situated in the middle of the room and joining Raven. Bellamy slides over to you, looking at Echo’s retreating figure in confusion. “What was that all about?”

“She found my knife.” The words seem to remind Bellamy of something because his face lights up before he taps his pocket. “I found your other one.”

“I stabbed you with the other one.”

He winces, looking down at the undoctored wound. “Speaking of…”

You motion for him to sit in a chair beside Murphy, and your mom passes you a first aid kit, which you use to quickly patch up Bellamy’s thigh wound. You feel guilty the entire time you do, knowing that you did this to him, and Bellamy seems to sense your guilt because he tips your chin up towards him as you finish bandaging him up. “I’m glad you stabbed me.”

His eyes fall to the bruises dotted around your neck, clearly a result from his hands choking you out. They travel up to your darkening eye, now back in the early stages of healing, thanks to the punch he swung at you. You can see the guilt pass over his features now, the bits and pieces of the fight coming back to him slowly, and you grab his hand and squeeze it, prepared to turn your comfort onto him. “You didn't know what you were doing.”

“But I should have.”

“I don't think that’s how it works.”

“You fought through it, I should have too. I should have been stronger.”

You shake your head at him, rising to put your hand on either side of his face. “Stop it. I’m sure it affects everyone differently. My visions made me a danger to myself, that’s why I was able to fight it. It has nothing to do with strength.”

“Still, you’ve always been stronger than the rest of us.” You give him a look, silently telling him that doesn’t matter, not now, and he nods. You can see that he still isn't quite convinced, letting you know this conversation will have to continue later, when you’re not surrounded by your friends and family. You drop it for now, and Bellamy does too, switching his gaze to look down at Murphy, who is still knocked out. “Why isn't he waking up?”

“He will.”

Emori looks down at her boyfriend, whispering in shock, “I can't believe I did this to him.”

Bellamy lays a comforting hand on her arm. “Emori, you didn't. I did.”

They look at each other, neither of them blaming the other, both of them still unable to forgive themselves. Octavia is unaffected by all of this, watching everything from the bar with an annoyed expression, breaking her silence for the first time since she arrived. “Who cares? We need to get out of this place.”

Bellamy tenses up beside you, and you sense a fight brewing as he abruptly stands from his chair and turns on her. “What are you even doing here?”

“I came to save your ass.”

Bellamy scoffs and starts to walk towards Octavia, and you get hit by the memory of Octavia beating her brother up after Lincoln’s death. Worried that you’re about to watch something similar happen again, this time with Bellamy as the angry one, you stand and grab him, stopping him in place. “Bellamy, no. Not now, don’t do this now.”

He looks back at you, taking in your pleading expression, and he starts to calm a little in your presence. Echo adds, “If we're gonna fight our way out, we need her.”

You cut your eyes at her, because that doesn’t really help. Bellamy proves your point by giving her an unconvinced look, clearly not willing to accept Octavia’s help, even in danger. Echo just shrugs, but Clarke, who also opposes the plan, walks over to face the former spy. “Echo, we're not fighting them. We need them to teach us how to survive down here.”

Right on cue, the door swings open and a guard walks inside, followed by a pretty young woman and an older couple, clearly the young woman’s parents. The father smiles at you, a tray in his hand, seemingly not fearful of the invaders from Earth. “Welcome, friends. If it's true you survived the red sun, then you need a drink.”

He reaches Clarke and Echo first, and they each take a glass, before he offers you and Bellamy one. You each take one, though you have no intention of drinking it, a little wary to drink something from strangers that have locked you up. Jordan clearly has none of your wariness, because he accepts the glass from the younger woman and downs it in one gulp. “That's amazing. What is it?”

“We call it-” The young woman is cut off by her mother, her voice a warning. “Delilah.”

Delilah turns to her mother with a smile. “Relax, Mother. I don't think they'll steal your recipe.”

And then she turns back to Jordan, her expression bright. “We call it Jo Juice after Josephine Prime. Hallowed be her name.”

The other people in the room repeat, “Hallowed be her name.”

You look at Bellamy, wondering if he’s just as weirded out by the recurring cult-like responses to everything, and he gives you a skeptical look, letting you know that he is. Clarke looks at Delilah, curious to find out more about this insane place you’ve all landed in. “Uh, can I ask, and it's probably none of our business, but what's a Prime?”

“Sanctum was colonized by a team from Earth made up of four families: the Primes. Their blood rules us still.”

Such a short sentence but full of so much information. Planet Alpha, which is actually a moon, is called Sanctum. The first team was made up of families, just like you guys guessed while in the shrine. And their blood rules us still? What the hell does that mean? You don't get long to process the information and ask a follow up question, because the door swings open and someone announces, “Make way for the Primes.”

You all turn and watch the leader from before stride inside, this time accompanied by a new woman, one you haven't seen yet. Kaylee is also with them, and as soon as the people of Sanctum see the leaders, they bow. The leader ignores all of that and calls out, “Which one's the pilot?”

Kaylee points to Raven. “There, that one.”

You all look over at Raven in alarm as a couple of guards descend on her, about to grab her, and you and Bellamy are already preparing to stop them when the leader does it instead. “Stop! Did I say to take her?”

The guards apologize and step away, and Clarke steps in front of all of you, assuming her defensive position at the head of your group. “Look, if this is about what happened on the mothership, your people stole our transport and then boarded us by force. My people were just defending themselves.”

Kaylee counters instantly, “Lies. She wasn't there, we hurt no one.”

You glare at the woman, eyeing her up and down, sure that you could take her down in seconds if you need to. You kinda hope you need to, because something about her just irks your nerves. The man seems to take in her words before looking at your twin. “What's your name?”

Clarke shows no fear or anxiety about the situation in front of her. No worries about the fact that you look like the bad guys in this situation. You know that beneath the surface, she's as scared as you are, but on the outside, she's cool and calm. Something you've always admired about her. She answers the man without missing a beat. “Clarke Griffin. What's yours?”

The new woman, the one you haven’t seen before snaps back, “He is Russell Lightbourne, seventh of his line, savior of Sanctum, and you will bow before using his name.”

You turn your glare on her, knowing you could take her too. You start writing a list in your head titled, ‘All the Primes in Sanctum that you want to punch’. Kaylee and this new woman are both at the top. Clarke’s calm demeanor breaks a little, her expression turning into one of disbelief as she turns to the woman, shaking her head, “I don't think so.”

Russell looks over at her, and then back to the rest of you. “My wife Simone is a stickler for protocol, but she knows you can't observe customs that you're unaware of. You have questions, understandably, and we'll get to them all, but first, we need your transport ship to be flown into Sanctum. You can land in one of the lower fields.”

Your mom stands, speaking for the first time since the Primes have entered the room. “Why? What's out there?”

Something about the fear in her voice makes Clarke turn and give her a strange look, just as Simone deadpans, “There are worse things in this world than eclipse induced psychosis. All of them are outside the shield, and the worst of them would love to get their hands on the weapons that Kaylee says are on your ship.”

Kaylee snaps, her voice steadily rising, “Why are we asking for permission? My family is on that ship!”

You silently write a star next to her name on the metaphorical list in your head, your hand subconsciously curling into a fist as you do. Bellamy senses the minute shift in your demeanor, so tuned into you and your energy that he can tell the second your anger starts to rise. He reaches down and unrolls your fist, smoothing it down so he can hold your hand instead. You turn to him, giving him a small smile of appreciation, thankful that you have him here to ground you and remind you that you’re supposed to be doing better. Something you already forgot about in the chaos of the last 24 hours.

Russell turns to Kaylee, delivering news she seems unaware of before this moment. “Which is why you'll be on the team sent to retrieve them.”

Kaylee freezes, her eyes going wide with fear, and you smirk a little. Yup, you could definitely kick her ass. Russell pulls you out of your head when he catches her scared expression and asks, “What, now you're afraid to leave the shield?”

“I told you, we were late for shelter when we saw that ship. Either we took it or we suffered the red sun.”

Your twin uses the conversation between the Primes to step back towards your mother, something still weighing on her mind. You and Bellamy are close enough to them that you can hear Clarke ask, “Mom, what is it?”

“Madi is on the transport ship.”

“What? You woke her?” You all turn towards Clarke, the volume of her outburst loud in the small tavern. Your mom tries to shush her, to silently warn her that the Primes don’t know about your stowaway, but Clakre ignores her and turns to address Russell. “Raven will fly the ship, but we're going too.”

Raven mutters under her breath, “Didn't realize you were giving the orders again, Clarke.”

You sigh, shaking your head slightly, all of this fighting within your group giving you a headache. Octavia and Bellamy, everyone with Clarke, it’s tearing apart the fragile unity you all possess, which is especially worrisome when you are locked inside a tavern and being held as prisoners on a planet you know nothing about, among people you know nothing about. Still, you know there’s no fast track for forgiveness and everyone forgives at their own pace. Your pace was just a lot faster than the others because you made a deal with the sky.

Russell looks at Clarke, nodding, accepting her terms and conditions. “Fine. Choose your most disposable people, it's time to go.”

Clarke starts to step forward, ready to go, but Russell holds up a hand to stop her. “You don't strike me as disposable.”

“None of us are, but my child is out there, so I'm going to get her.”

“Please, we have things to discuss. Are you the leader of your people, or not?”

You speak up before Clarke can, “She is.”

Bellamy backs you up and adds, “She can speak for us.”

“Good, you can escort your team to the steps. The rest of you will remain here, well cared for until we can decide what to do with you.”

And with that he turns and walks out the door, taking the other Primes and guards with him. As soon as Russell is gone, Bellamy looks around at your small pool to choose from. Clarke has to stay in Sanctum, and so does your mother, so she can keep an eye on Murphy. Both of you already know that Emori isn't going anywhere without Murphy, so she’s out too. Jordan doesn't know how to fight, so he needs to stay, and Raven has to go because you need a pilot. Which leaves Miller, Jackson, Echo, and Octavia to decide what to do with. Bellamy looks to you, asking a silent question, which you decipher easily. What about Echo? Though you know it's going to be weird, especially after Bellamy’s comments about her during the eclipse, you also know you need her because she's useful in a fight. Which is why you nod, letting him know you're okay with it. He turns to them and calls out, “Raven, Echo.”

They both stand, already walking towards the door, aware that he’s choosing them, and as Echo walks past Octavia she mutters, “Octavia, let's go.”

You can tell that Bellamy wants to argue, but he takes in a deep breath and lets it go before turning to Miller. “Miller, you stay here. Keep an eye on things.”

Miller nods, and you all know it’s an unspoken agreement that Jackson is going to stay with Miller, leaving your teams decided. With that out of the way, Clarke turns to face you and Bellamy, a glare on her face. “Can I talk to the two of you for a second?”

She starts to walk away, and as you follow, Bellamy starts to defend you both instantly. “What? You said it yourself, Clarke, we need these people. For some reason, their leader seems to like you, so let's try and keep it that way.”

She stops, turning to look at you both, her glare melting away, aware that Bellamy’s right. But fear takes its place, an emotion she so rarely shares with others, but freely shows you and Bellamy, her twin and her best friend. You reach out and take her hand, smiling at her as you do, “My shining star, we'll bring Madi back. I promise.”

The fear lingers a second longer, and then she gives you a tentative smile back, knowing that you mean it. And with the team chosen and everyone now in agreement, you all say your goodbyes and meet the Sanctum guards on the steps, along with the punchable Prime, Kaylee. They give you a brief rundown of how the mission ahead is supposed to go, including the fact that none of you are allowed weapons, which all of you accept without argument. All of you, except one. Octavia tries to argue, but Bellamy cuts her off before she can, letting the guards know that you're more than happy to comply with their rules. Before you leave, one of the guards notices that both you and Bellamy are limping, with Bellamy’s limp being much worse due to his more recent injury. He gives you both walking sticks to use, which is helpful, considering how little rest you’ve had since you landed down here. It was easy to hide your pain when you first landed, but after all the things you have experienced since landing, your calf is giving you trouble now.

You hike all the way down the side of the cliff in silence, trekking most of the way across the fields without a word too. None of you are eager to potentially divulge sensitive information around a Prime who seems likely to use it against you in a heartbeat, so you all keep your mouths shut. That is, until you reach the edge of the fields, and Octavia mutters, “Wouldn't suck to have a weapon.”

You think of the knife in your waistband and your other knife that is still tucked into Bellamy’s pocket, all of you not completely weaponless. You can't tell her that though, which is why Bellamy counters, “He told us, only the guards carry weapons.”

You reach out for Bellamy’s hand, and he looks over at you as you intertwine your fingers. “At least she can't screw up an alliance if she's with us.”

He lifts a brow and deadpans, “Wanna bet?”

You’re about to say something in return, but Kaylee turns and calls out before you get the chance. “There are things and people in these woods that want us dead. You fall behind, you will be.”

She eyes you, Bellamy, and Raven, all of you dealing with a struggle to walk in one way or another, and you glare at her, trying very hard to bite your tongue and keep the peace. Bellamy squeezes your hand, grounding you, reminding you of the unofficial mantra, and you squeeze back, letting him know you're good. Kaylee turns and motions to one of the guards, who pulls a flare gun out of his pocket and points it to the sky, firing once. You all watch the flare go straight up and then stop when it hits the radiation shield, which is spread out over all of Sanctum like a dome. You watch the shield go down in awe, making it safe for all the non Nightbloods to pass, and you cross the barrier and step into the woods, following the guards and leaving Sanctum temporarily behind.

You hike for a few hours, and the earlier silence continues, until you get closer to the transport ship and hear a distant call through the woods, “Death to Primes! Death to Primes!”

All the members of Sanctum freeze, forcing all of you to stop behind them, and your eyes fall to Kaylee as one of the guards grabs her. “We’re too late.”

“Like hell we are.” She tries to pull herself free from his grip but he doesn’t budge as she fights against him. “Let me go!”

“Victor, Faye, and Daniel Prime are lost. You’re the priority.” The man looks to the other guards and calls out, “Abort the mission now!”

They nod in acknowledgement, but Bellamy drops your hand and steps forward, looking at the man in confusion. “What are you talking about? Our people are out there!”

But you eye the already retreating guards, all too eager to get out of the woods without a fight. You think of Sanctum, bathed in comfort and peace, unaware of the dangerous lives all of you have lived. Thrust into war after war way too young, each one of you battle trained and ready for a fight if necessary. Which is why you turn to Bellamy, grabbing his arm to get him to look at you. “It's okay, we don't need them.”

You look into his eyes, and he nods, aware that he has Wanlida, Echo, and Blodreina with him. None of you want to fight if you can help it, still trying to do better, but you will fight if it saves your niece’s life, and you won't wait for Sanctum's permission to do it. With Bellamy’s agreement, you turn to look at the lead guard, and you yank the binoculars from around his neck, the only tool you now have. “Go, we'll bring our family home.”

The guard nods and jogs off after the other guards, leaving you to all walk towards the creepy chanting in the woods. Octavia brushes past you as she stalks ahead, muttering, “This should be fun.”

You shrug your shoulders, agreeing that it’s no doubt going to be interesting, but you don't say so. You just follow her until you're at the edge of the clearing, tucked into the woods near the transport ship. All of you drop into the brush and watch four people stand outside of the ship, talking quietly to each other. You can see three bodies slumped on the ramp of the ship behind them, one of them small enough to be Madi, though you can't tell from this distance. Still, the sight makes your stomach drop so you lower the binoculars and pass them over to Bellamy. He peers through them, taking in the scene, lowering them as soon as he sees the small figure in the back. “Madi’s fine.”

You nod, not sure you believe it right now, before he turns and whispers to the other three girls, “We’ll wait for them to leave.”

Octavia looks like she wants to argue but thinks better of it, and Echo and Raven both agree instantly, settling back into the brush to wait and watch quietly. You wait for hours, watching the two suns lower across the sky, giving you the most brilliant sunset you’ve ever seen, before finally darkness covers everything, and a moon tracks across the sky, giving all for you some light. You peer through the binoculars again, watching as a woman picks up all of the guns, held together on a piece of rope. You can hear the sound of their voices from where you're hidden, but you’re too far to make out exactly what they’re saying. Bellamy whispers, “Can you tell what they're saying?”

“No, but one of them's leaving, and she's taking the guns.”

“Why would they give up their advantage? Doesn't make sense.”

Raven mutters, “No, but it makes a fair fight.”

You lower the binoculars, and look to Bellamy as he whispers, “Okay. Once the guns are clear, we go in-”

But he never gets to finish his plan, because Octavia cuts him off and snaps, “Don't be an idiot. I'm going for the guns.”

She stands, walking towards the edge of the trees, entering the clearing, as Bellamy whispers, “Damn it, O! Octavia, get back! Do not engage!”

But she ignores him, continuing closer to the people, walking right into some sort of warning system. A bunch of cans bang together, alerting the people in the clearing to her presence, and she looks at you and Bellamy, surprised the people got the better of her. The woman with the guns runs off, taking the weapons with her, leaving three others in the clearing. Octavia’s surprise doesn't last long, because she turns back to the clearing almost immediately and runs straight into it, heading for the people gathered there. You’re all frozen in place, unable to do anything other than watch her take out the three men in rapid succession. But a surprise fourth person comes out of the transport ship, his gun raised and pointed at Octavia, and you feel your stomach drop, sure that you’re all about to watch her die.

You don't though. Someone on the ramp knocks the man to the ground and grabs his gun, standing and shooting him instantly. Once she’s on her feet you can tell that it’s Diyoza, heavily pregnant and fighting like it’s nothing. She turns her weapon on Octavia and yells, “They were withdrawing. Why the hell would you attack?”

Bellamy stands from beside you, stalking out into the clearing now that it’s clear. You, Raven, and Echo follows as he snaps at his sister, “Are you out of your mind? You didn't have to kill anyone!”

But you ignore all of that, and make a beeline to the ramp, your eyes falling on Madi, who is still lying motionless. As you move past Diyoza you ask, “Why aren't they moving? What's wrong with them?”

“Paralytic darts.”

You drop down to Madi’s side, into her line of sight, smiling down at her. You can see relief in her eyes, and you smooth her hair back from her face. “Hi little sun.”

Bellamy comes and kneels down beside you, reaching out to squeeze Madi’s shoulder. “You’re okay, we’re gonna go see Clarke now, okay?”

You know if she could, she’d smile at you both, and Bellamy assumes the leadership position, looking between Echo and Diyoza. “Diyoza, Echo, get the body bags.”

They both run down the ramp towards the body bags of the dead Primes, and he turns and glances at Raven, who has walked past you to check on Gaia. “Raven, they would have heard the gunshots. Get us in the air before they come back.”

She nods and jogs off, and you stand and walk over to Gaia, checking on her as Diyoza says, “They were waiting for something, kept talking about a second moon.”

“When you figure out what that means, let me know.”

Diyoza and Echo drag the bodies inside, and as they work you scoop up Madi and carry her into the ship, setting her down in one of the seats and buckling her in. On your way back towards the ramp Diyoza and Echo pass you, team carrying Gaia, and you come around the corner just in time to see Bellamy at the top of the ramp and Octavia at the bottom, starting to walk up. But Bellamy steps into her path, stopping her in place. “Not you.”

“Oh, come on. What are you gonna do, leave me here?”

He bites back, “Yeah, for your own good and ours. Monty gave his life so we could have another chance, and I'm not gonna let you destroy that.”

Octavia gives him an incredulous look. “We saved Madi, Gaia, and Diyoza. We got the damn ship back. We lost no one. How is that a bad thing?”

“Until you can answer that yourself, you're on your own.”

He steps back from her, and her eyes move from his face over to you, where you stand watching near the lever to the door. And though you’ve forgiven her, this isn't your fight. Nothing you say to Bellamy will change his mind, not when he’s set his mind to something. Plus, a large part of you agrees with him. You were willing to kill the people outside the ship if you had to, but you didn't want to. Octavia didn't even stop to consider any other options other than kill them all. She was so determined to get the guns back that she got careless and set off an alarm, and the woman with the guns ran off anyways. But as long as Octavia jumps right to the option of killing and considers nothing else, you're going to have a hard time making peace with the leaders and people of Sanctum. So when she looks your way, seeking your help, there is nothing for you to do but shake your head softly, mouthing to her, “I’m sorry.”

Her face falls, the rejection from both you and Bellamy hurting her, before she masks it behind anger. “Fine.”

She turns and starts to walk down the ramp, back into the clearing, yelling back as she does, “Should have died in that gorge, anyway.”

“Octavia.” She freezes, waiting for her brother’s words, though she doesn't turn around. “My sister died a long time ago.”

You see her shoulders sag, his words hurting her further, and then Bellamy turns and walks back up the ramp, towards the lever. He lifts it, triggering the door to rise, and you reach out for him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You can see the sag of his shoulders, the burden he’s struggling to carry, and he turns in your arms to face you. There are tears in his eyes, clearly upset that it had to come to this, and he pulls you towards him, tucking you into his arms. The two of you stand like that for a while as the ship moves back towards Sanctum, until the thud of feet running down the hall catches your attention. You and Bellamy pull apart and turn, just in time to see Madi launching herself at you. You catch her in a hug, squeezing tight, her face split into a grin. “Ani!”

You set her down and she immediately lunges towards Bellamy, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight. He looks at you in surprise, not expecting the hug, and you smile as he wraps his arms around her and hugs her back. When they pull away, you look down at her, scanning over her body for any injuries. “Are you okay?”

She finally gets a look at you, face pulling into concern as she reaches up and shifts the chain of your necklace out of the way so she can look at your neck. And then her eyes fall on your black eye, worse than before, and she counters, “Are you?”

You smile at her, shaking your head at the concern she got from Clarke. “Yes, I’m fine. Now tell me what happened to you.”

She immediately launches into her story, starting with the moment Raven and Diyoza woke her up, ending with the three of you standing together in that very moment. Her story kills the rest of the trip back to Sanctum, keeping you occupied as you return back to the village. As soon as you land, you are greeted by the guards from before, who escort all of you back up the mountain and towards the tavern. Madi is practically buzzing with excitement the entire way, eager to see Clarke, and as soon as the guards push the doors to the tavern open, Madi takes off running towards your twin, calling out to her, “Clarke!”

Clarke catches her in a hug and squeezes her tight, a smile on her face, and your eyes land on a bandage wrapped around her hand. She meets your eyes, a silent thank you, and you meet hers with a ‘what the hell’, but she shakes her head, letting you know she’ll explain later. You nod and she looks back to Madi, pulling away to whisper, “Oh, I'm so glad to see you. You okay?”

You feel Bellamy tense beside you, and you look over to him, following his gaze, which has landed on Murphy, who is upright, awake, and drinking at the bar. You smile, relieved that he’s okay, and you and Bellamy walk over to him. He smiles a little as you approach, and you surprise both him and you by pulling him into a hug, overwhelmed by how much you’d miss him if he was gone. “Cockroaches really do survive anything, huh?”

He smirks, shaking his head at you, and your voice gets serious as you whisper, “But really, thank you for your help during the eclipse.”

He counters, “Thank you for pulling me out of the water.”

You glance at Bellamy, who is standing anxiously behind Murphy, and he puts his hand on the man’s shoulder, his voice a broken whisper. “I'm sorry.”

Murphy turns to look at him, placing his hand on top of Bellamy’s, shrugging off the need for an apology. “It's not your fault, man.”

And that’s all that can be said before the doors to the tavern open again, and Russell strides inside, his wife at his side. He looks over all of you before he says, “It's been a long day, so I'll keep this short. Sanctum was created to be a sanctuary for the human race.”

His gaze moves over to Clarke, “After seeing you save Delilah, we've decided that you deserve that too.”

Clarke seems shocked by this, and you realize now that in the few short hours you were gone, you clearly missed a lot. “You changed your mind? We can stay?”

Simone answers, “For now, but no more of you. You will follow our rules and respect our traditions, and we will teach you how to survive here.”

“What my wife is trying to say is, welcome to Sanctum.”

Clarke turns to look back at you, both of you smiling at each other, before she turns to Madi and you turn to Bellamy. Both of you are wearing matching smiles of relief, and as Bellamy pulls you in for a kiss, you can hear Diyoza talking to Simone about her pregnancy. You ignore them, enjoying your kiss of peace with Bellamy, celebrating your fresh start in a new place with new people. When you pull away, the sounds of everyone’s celebrations dies down just enough for all of you to hear Madi’s words to Clarke. “You should have seen Diyoza and Octavia fighting terrorists.”

Clarke looks around in confusion, turning to look back at you and Bellamy. “Where is Octavia?”

You shake your head, letting her know you'll tell her later, but it gets lost in Russell’s interruption. “Charmaine Diyoza?”

Diyoza’s face falls a little, but she answers honestly. “Yes.”

Russell explodes with anger, “Escort this woman past the shield right now!”

You all look at him in confusion, not understanding his sudden change in demeanor. As two guards grab Diyoza, Bellamy interjects, “Just wait. What is this?”

Diyoza turns and looks back at him, shrugging a little. “Seems my reputation precedes me.”

Russell grinds out, “You could say that. Your face is in our history books next to Hitler and Bin Laden.”

The guards start to pull Diyoza away, and your mom calls out, “Please, what about the baby?”

“If any of you would care to join her, be my guest.”

Madi shifts, clearly intending to follow Diyoza out into the woods, but Clarke grabs her to stop her, her voice a warning. “Madi.”

Diyoza turns to smirk at her, trying to reassure her. “It's okay, kid. Stay frosty.”

And then she is dragged out of the room, followed out by Russell and Simone without another word. You all stand there in shock, watching the guards close the doors behind the exiting crowd, feeling like you have whiplash from how quickly the demeanor changed in the room. Murphy turns back to the bar, lifting his drink to his mouth as he muses, “One way or another, the devil gets his due.”

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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oliverslewty · 3 years

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Story Titles

Here's a list of my story titles so far, and who's using them as well. (You can use them, if they aren't already taken, just ask so I can add you!)

Stories;

I Think (Therefore I am.)

Silence (Drowning Out My Screams.)

Strike the Match (Watch It Burn.)

We're Not Here Forever (So Let's Make It Worth It.)

Let the Rumors (Turn Me Into A Legend.)

Towards the Sun.

Anything That Is Beautiful (People Want To Break.)

From the Perfect Start (To the Finish Line.)

And If You're Still Breathing (You're the Lucky Ones.)

We Are the Reckless (We Are the Wild Youth.)

We Arm Ourselves (With the Wrongs We've Done.)

Screaming At the Ones We Love (Like We Forgot Who We Can Trust.)

To Be Humble (To Be Kind.)

And You’ve Always Had It (You Just Never Knew.)

I’m Empty And Aching (And I Don’t Know Why.)

It Hurts (But It’s Worth It.)

I’m Too Tired To Fight (And Too Scared To Run.)

You Stitch Your Dreams (But they'll Never Hold.)

Shake My Hand (Don't Be Naive.)

I'm Losing My Mind (Don't Leave Me Behind.)

I Don't Want To Live A Life Without You.

That's why We Won't Back Down (We Won't Run And Hide)

I Can't Breathe (But I'm Living.)

Screaming Out (And Yet they Never Heat A Word.)

Here’s To the Heroes (the Broken, the Damned, the Furious.)

Feel the Rush Of Adrenaline (Not Scared To Jump In.)

Make Me A Promise (Tell Me You'll Stay With Me)

Cut Them Down (Make Them Holy.)

Like We Forget (Who We Can Trust.)

In the Eye Of the Storm (We Remind In Control.)

Take A Stand (Find the Strength Inside.)

Our Faith Is the Bullet (Hope Is the Gun.)

Under the pressure (I'm never gonna break)

If I Could Tell Her (Tell Her Everything I See.)

You Chose To Love (And Lost.)

Betrayal In the Air (I'm Losing My Mind.)

I’ve Got Nothing To Hold On To (Let Me Fall For You.)

There Are No Second Chances (Except When There Are)

If I Die Young (Bury Me In Satin.)

Every Breath (Every Hour Has Come To this.)

It's Been A Hundred Years (And I’m Still In Love With You.)

Make A Choice (One You Won't Regret.)

Say Their Names (We Won't Forget.)

I Ask Myself (What Am I Doing Here?)

Gotta Keep It Locked Tight (If I'm Gonna Survive.)

Put Me Away (Before I Break.)

The Feelings I Caught (The Time That I Lost.)

Take To the Sky (Chasing the Stars.)

You're the One Who Could See (the Good Inside Of Me.)

Still, I Loved You To the Last (Because You Were My Always.)

Took Me Down To the Water (Tried To Wash It All Away.)

I Wait For Forgiveness (And In the Dark I Stay.)

I'm Fired Up And Tired (Of the Way That Things Have Been.)

1 Series;

Moon, Enlighten the Night (the Dark Side Of Light.)

Sun, Keeper Of Flame (Breaker Of Day.)

I Gave You Devotion, (My Blood And My Life.)

I Gave You My Sword (My Heart And My Faith.)

I Trusted Your Stars (they Were Once My Guide.)

Time Has Come For Rebirth (To Rise Like the Sun.)

From Now, Day And Night (Will Be Bound By the Dawn.)

The Reason To Win (Our Land, Our Home, the Air We Breath.)

Cold Winds (Will Come Like A Storm.)

What Lives Beneath the Sun (Is Written In the Stars.)

May Thunder Be Our Voice (With Lightning In Our Veins.)

2 Series;

I Buried the Unseemly Urges (Deep Down In the Ground With the Roots.)

But It's All Coming Up To the Surface (Maybe It's Getting Ready To Bloom.)

Does It Get Your Blood Boiling (Does It Make You See Red?)

Do You Wanna Destroy It (Does It Get In Your Head?)

'Cause It Gets My Blood Boiling (And I'm Coming Unglued)

It Would Hit You Like Poison (if You Knew What I Knew.)

And I Don't Wanna Drink (the Venom They Made Me.)

3 Series;

We Are the Warriors (Who Learned To Love the Pain.)

We Are the Broken Ones (Who Chose To Spark A Flame.)

Watch As Our Fire Rages (Our Hearts Are Never Tame.)

4 Series;

When Everyone Runs (You Choose To Stay)

With Every Broken Bone (I swear, I lived)

I Saw So Many Places (the Things That I did)

I Owned Every Second (That This World Could Give.)

5 Series

'Cause If I Fall (You'll Fall)

And If I Rise (We'll Rise Together)

#story titles #fic story titles #song lyrics used for story titles

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averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Valley of the Dolls 3/10

The wonderful idea of apathy!Roman goes to @caffeinated-cryptid, an amazing artist and all-around great person. Check out their @ts-unsolved au, it owns my heart! This is mostly in line with their ideas, but I took it in a slightly different direction. These chapters are getting steadily longer and I’m sorry. You can find this fic on Ao3 here.

(Title is from Valley of the Dolls by MARINA. Chapter is based around The Record Player Song by Daisy the Great)

Pairings: platonic DLAMPR

Warnings: gun mention, blood mention, eating and food, slight NSFW jokes, depression and depressive symptoms, very minor body horror, self-deprecation, suicidal ideation, sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Janus, a ton of angst (but I’ve got a happy ending planned). Set immediately after Putting Others First.

Summary: After the disastrous video and a week of spiraling, Roman becomes a Dark Side, Apathy. At first, Remus is thrilled, dragging his brother into all sorts of trouble. But Roman’s no fun anymore, the other Sides are paying a visit downstairs, and it’s becoming clear that Thomas can’t survive without Creativity by his side.

Chapter 3: Change of Pace

First. Previous. Next. Masterlist.

Wipe my eyes and cut me off I'm just crying for attention I wish I'd been a teenage rebel Never even got detention I don't really love you I just said that for a change of pace I'm sorry, sometimes I don't recognize my face ...Sometimes I think all I'm ever doing is Trying to convince myself I'm alive.

“So.”

Jan didn’t respond. He was still staring at the door.

“So,” Remus said again, hoping something would happen this time.

“One minute, Remus.”

Remus tapped his feet together and waited. Ten seconds in, he got bored. “So?”

Jan pinched the bridge of his nose. “One. Minute. Remus.”

“It’s been like five minutes already!” Remus complained. “Are you having a mental breakdown?” Remus poked Jan’s cheek. “You seem the type to have a mental breakdown.”

Jan swatted Remus’ hand away. “I am not having a breakdown. I am considering my options.”

“Really?” Remus asked. “What are the options?”

“Forcibly dump Roman back with the ‘Light Sides’, groom him in the ways of evil and selfishness, let him waste away on his own, or burn the entire Mindscape to the ground so I don’t have to deal with this insanity.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully. “I like the last one.”

“Why am I not surprised.”

“But I think you’re forgetting the most entertaining option.” Remus spread his hands. “How about—”

Jan glared at him. “Do not say murder.”

“Ah...” Remus shifted. “Theft! Of his life and internal organs!”

Jan gritted his teeth. “Of course you want to murder Roman.”

“I don’t want to,” Remus protested. “It would just be the most entertaining. He’s more fun when he’s alive! I can stab him and cut his fingers into itty bitty pieces and—”

A vein throbbed in Jan’s forehead. “Remus, be quiet for a second.”

Remus obediently waited a second. “—but I bet we could strangle him without too much trouble, unless you want to be really kinky and get some knives involved—”

“Remus.”

“—I dunno if you’re into that sort of thing...hey, we’ve never found out if you’re poisonous to eat! This could be our chance to—"

“Remus!” Jan snapped. “This has been a very long day. Thomas is sick as a dog from the reconstruction of his entire Mindscape, I had to comfort a sobbing Patton and a panicking Virgil despite not being an empathetic or comforting person, and now I find out that Creativity has been dumped on my doorstep like an unwanted magical orphan. Please, if you have any mercy, let me think.”

Remus looked Jan over. “So...you’re having a breakdown now, right?”

“Why haven’t I killed you yet?”

“Beats me!”

Jan leaned forward and slammed his forehead into Roman’s door.

“JanJan?” Remus tapped his shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

“Praying for spontaneous human combustion.” Jan squeezed his eyes shut. “Give it a second.”

“C’mon.” Remus lowered his volume and tried his best to sound not entirely maniacal. “Let’s say hi to Roman already! Maybe he’s slept off his weird funk. Or maybe this was all thanks to sleep deprivation or a calcium deficiency and he’ll be back to normal in no time!”

“Should we be so lucky.” Jan slowly raised his head. “I suppose I should greet him, despite him definitely not wishing to see me.”

“He doesn’t want to see anyone,” Remus confessed. “It says so on the door.”

Jan nodded and knocked twice. “Roman? Can we come in?”

There was no reply.

“Let me in,” Jan ordered. “I am not having a repeat of the past nine days, Roman. I need to speak with you.”

Remus looked at the still-locked door. “Um, JanJan? Try not to sound like you’re going to yell at him for stealing your old record player or disown him for stripping. Just a thought.”

Jan sighed. “Fine. Roman, please. I don’t want this to be the case, but...you’re here now, and I want to help. Preferably to get you out of here as fast as possible. Whatever the case, I—I look after everyone down here. That’s my job. I suppose you’re technically part of that now. So...could you let me in?”

There was a long pause. Remus shuffled from foot to foot, ignoring the itch in his hands and feet. Jan glanced at him and tossed him a fidget cube, the one with the buttons. Remus grinned and began to fiddle with it immediately.

Finally there was a soft click and the door swung open.

Jan breathed a sigh of...relief? Who knew with JanJan. He stepped inside and Remus followed, still enjoying the satisfying click of the buttons.

Nothing in Roman’s room had changed. Roman still lay curled on the bed, staring at the wall.

“Hello,” Jan said delicately, fidgeting with his gloves. Remus chewed on his lip and wondered if Jan needed the fidget cube more than him. “Uh, Roman?”

“He’s listening,” Remus explained. “Just doesn’t bother talking back.”

“Okay. Alright.” Jan tried for a smile. “So! You’re Downstairs now? A ‘Dark Side’, to use your terminology? Do you know why that happened?”

Remus chucked the fidget cube at Roman’s back, but even the small thump didn’t make Roman respond.

“Right, I suppose you couldn’t answer any of my questions if you’re currently mute.” Janus flexed his fingers. “Look. Can I be honest with you?”

That got a small derisive huff from Roman. Remus grinned.

“Yes, haha, I’m Deceit, very funny, let’s continue.” Jan tented his fingers. “You’re upsetting the delicate equilibrium I’ve scrounged from what I was given in this miserable dump, and your presence has implications I’d rather not think about. So I would, if you’d be so kind to let me, like to return you Upstairs and have our darling friends the ‘Light Sides’ figure out how to fix this. Do you understand?”

Roman stared at the wall.

“This is very disconcerting,” Jan muttered. “Roman, please move. Or speak. Or convey to me your sentience.”

“Look, he’s not gonna.” Remus shrugged. “Just roll with it and drag him anywhere he needs to go. He’s, like, really depressed.”

Jan’s eyebrows pinched together. “Depressed?”

“Yeah, he’s blue da ba dee da ba die.” Remus waved a hand. “It’s obvious.”

Jan gave Roman a piercing look. “If that’s the case, maybe we should summon that strange therapist with the pink shirt?”

“Roman’s side of the Imagination,” Remus said. “Dunno what it’ll look like right now. I guess we’ll have to explore...other avenues.”

“I don’t know whether you’re implying sex or torture, but no.”

“Hey, they don’t have to be mutually exclusive, if you—"

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Jan clenched his fist. “Why did I take that oath to never silence you guys?”

“Oh yeah!” Remus turned to Roman. “One of the perks of being down here—JanJan doesn’t shut you up! I mean, I guess he never did anyway ‘cause he says you’re easy to manipulate, but—” Janus coughed loudly. “Anyway! It’s actually pretty cool down here, Ro-Bro! We’ve got a couch and everything!”

Jan’s face worked. Remus didn’t know if he was about to smile or frown. “Yes, because Upstairs, they sit on a giant dinosaur plush to watch TV.”

“That sounds really cool though!” Remus exclaimed. “Remind me to make that later. Then we’ll have a couch and a dinosaur plushie and this handsome face and Jan’s cooking and a ton of other cool stuff!”

“Thank you,” Jan said, “for helping me list more reasons that support my claim: Roman should leave now.”

“I’m just trying to make him feel welcome!” Remus crossed his arms twice over so they slipped in and out of each other like slimy spaghetti noodles. “Look, either we stick him back with the Light Sides who are kind of the reason he’s like this, or let him hang out. Or murder him.”

“No murder.” Jan held out a finger. “I draw the line there. The others would be furious and I’m this close to infiltrating them and gaining their trust.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re calling it?” Remus grinned, darting out of reach. “What about that time you almost cried last week ‘cause PatPat gave you a hug—”

Jan hissed. “Be quiet!”

“What? Can’t handle the truth, Deceit?” Remus glanced at Roman. “Anyway, I really don’t think he’ll be telling anyone.”

Jan was silent. Remus took that as a cue to check Roman over and make sure he hadn’t died while they were talking. Out of the dimly lit hallway, he could see the gauntness of Roman’s face and the paleness of his skin. He had a small cape, and the edges were tucked around him in a makeshift blanket nest. His hair was greasy and unwashed, the dark section stiff like someone had rubbed turds into it.

“I could kill him,” Remus said conversationally. He knew he was repeating himself, he knew Jan didn’t want him to keep bringing it up, but the silence was awful and ill-fitting like an itchy Christmas sweater. “I could just knock him in the skull, he wouldn’t feel a thing!”

Jan opened his mouth, probably to tell Remus he was being annoying—yeah, like Remus didn’t already know, like that wasn’t the whole point of his existence—

“Sounds nice,” Roman mumbled, curling tighter into his blankets.

Remus’ train of thought derailed, smashed through the station, and caused the deaths of hundreds of innocent people.

Jan stared at Roman, eyes wide.

“Okayyy,” Remus said slowly. “Um—”

“No!” Jan threw up his hands and stalked towards the door. “No! Absolutely not! I am not equipped for this! We are taking him Upstairs immediately, Remus, and if you get in my way because you want another guinea pig, so help me I will lock you in your room!”

Remus glanced at Roman on the bed. His brother, usually so grand and loud and bold and annoying, looked very small.

“Jan,” Remus called. “Wait.”

Jan paused in the doorway, not turning around. “This had better be good.”

“I—” Remus searched for words. He wasn’t really good at stringing sentences together like Jan, because his thoughts didn’t really come in sentences. They were just bursts of feeling and vivid images.

“Can he stay the night?” Remus sucked in air through his teeth. “I know you hate him, but...maybe a few days?”

“He’s not welcome here,” Jan fired back. “He’s not safe here. You know this.”

“And he’s safe with them?” Remus laughed. “They’re the ones who made this happen in the first place!”

Jan turned around, frowning. “Remus, that’s not what—”

“Please.”

“What?”

“Please,” Remus repeated. “I bet you really want to help but you’re just being slippery about it. Please.”

“Of course I want to help!” Jan snapped. “I protect the ego—helping Roman is, quite literally, in my job description. But I don’t believe letting him wallow in sadness in this hovel hotel will do him any good!”

“So you’re saying you couldn’t do a good job?” Remus laughed. “Hey, I turned out fine! And Virgil’s alright except for the neuroses and panic attacks, but who’s perfect?”

Jan stared at him. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

“You know I don’t understand sarcasm!” Remus clasped his hands. “Pretty please, JanJan? Pretty please with mucus and intestine on top?”

A muscle jumped in Jan’s jaw.

“Fine,” he ground out. “He stays. For now. Only because I am not in the mood to go upstairs and deal with that mess again.”

Remus beamed, running up to Jan and spinning him around. “You’re the bestest, Double Dee!”

“Don’t call me that,” Jan muttered, extricating himself. “Let’s go, it’s time for dinner.”

“Goodie!” Remus clapped his hands. “Can Roman come too?”

Jan gave Remus a weary look. “...I suppose we couldn’t let him starve.”

“Yes!” Remus pumped his fist. “You won’t regret this, I swear!”

“I’m sure I won’t,” Jan agreed, watching Remus with a vaguely amused expression. “Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Get Roman down the hall without maiming him, if possible.”

“Will do!”

Jan nodded and swept out the door, leaving Remus alone with his conked-out brother.

“So, Ro-Bro.” Remus stuck out his tongue and licked his eyelids. “You ready to get carried again?”

To his surprise, Roman sighed softly and rolled off the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud.

Remus winced. “Um...good job! You planning to roll to the kitchen?” Roman made a weak gesture.

“You want me to roll you.”

Roman shook his head.

“You—”

Roman slowly, painfully slowly, started to sit up. “Oh!” Remus said, grabbing his hand and helping him to his feet.

Roman slouched, Remus noticed as he finally stood all the way up. His chin was dropped and he didn’t make eye contact. His cape curled around him, a safety blanket. Roman yawned and stumbled.

“Hey, no!” Remus yelled, clapping loudly. “It’s not sleepytime anymore! It’s dinnertime! Do you want to starve to death? Actually don’t answer that, I’m already worried enough about your mental state.”

Roman obligingly didn’t answer. He just sunk out. Remus idly wondered if Roman could rise up anymore or if he’d just appear like the rest of them. Then he thought to wonder where Roman was going.

There was a scream and a crash, and Jan yelled “Please do appear behind me!”

Remus snickered. Question answered.

He sauntered down the hall, pausing to work on a mural he’d been making on the living room wall. It depicted what Remus thought the inside of a stomach would look like. He added a few globs of red on one end before licking the paint off the brush and tossing the brush to the floor.

Jan was boiling water in the kitchen, his extra arms pouring drinks and setting the table. Roman was slumped in one chair, chin in his hand, picking idly at his napkin. Remus swung into the chair opposite him with a large smile and a squelching noise. He tossed a dead duck onto Jan’s chair. Without even looking, Jan grabbed the duck and tossed it in the trash. Boo.

“Here.” Jan ladeled the spaghetti into four bowls. One, he covered with saran wrap and left on the counter. The other three he tossed on the table. Wiping his six hands on the dish towel, Jan finally turned around. Remus saw him flinch slightly when he saw Roman sitting at the table.

Made sense. That used to be Virgil’s spot.

Jan quickly shook off the surprise and sat down, his arms disappearing into his sides. Remus frowned. He liked JanJan’s extra arms. They were all wiggly and opened up all sorts of neat possibilities. He still hadn’t found out if they regenerated after getting cut off. Like a starfish! Or a worm! Or an immortal fire golem! Maybe the hand grew a mind of its own and would scuttle around like one of Virgil’s spiders. It would be fun to have a pet hand. All of Roman’s pets ended up dying gruesomely, and almost five times it wasn’t his fault.

“Eat,” Jan said gently, winding spaghetti around his fork. He’d given Remus a fork, probably out of some delusional optimism that Remus would actually use it. Remus stabbed the fork into his shoulder for safekeeping and shoved a handful of spaghetti into his mouth. Then he popped in two meatballs, squirted sauce directly into his mouth, and swallowed.

Jan pointedly stared at his plate.

Roman wasn’t eating at all. He poked idly at the spaghetti, elbow on the table.

“Cheese?” Jan offered, pushing a bowl of grated cheese toward him.

Roman stared at it thoughtfully. His arm whipped out and he grabbed a handful of cheese, stuffing it into his mouth.

“You know,” Remus said, grinning, “I’m starting to like you.”

“There’s two of you.” Jan watched Roman swallow with disgust. “There’s two of you.”

“This is all I’ve ever wanted.” Remus wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Someone who truly understands me.”

Jan snorted. Roman didn’t. He let the remaining pieces of cheese fall from his hand and resumed staring at his spaghetti.

“It’s not poisoned,” Remus assured him. “Jan wouldn’t do that again. And anyway, I’d have been poisoned by now. Unless it’s one of the poisons I’ve built up a resistance to. Then you might be screwed.”

Roman set his fork down and pushed the plate away.

“Roman,” Jan said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not poisoned.”

Roman pushed the plate a little further away.

“Cheese isn’t a meal.” Jan pushed the plate back. “You need to eat.”

Roman looked away. “Not hungry.”

Jan gave Remus a loaded expression. Remus didn’t like that. The only things he liked loaded were guns and bank accounts.

But Jan took another bite of spaghetti and his expression smoothed over. “It was a huge scene Upstairs.”

“Really?” Remus leaned forward. “I want the juicy details!”

“Well, they’re all extremely distraught about the loss of their prince.” Jan’s eyes flickered over to Roman. “Virgil had a panic attack, I believe. Logan was furious, I couldn’t tell who at. Thomas immediately collapsed with a fever, and Patton wouldn’t stop sobbing into my shoulder.” Jan brushed at the offending shoulder. “It might have been amusing under different circumstances, but this time it was just sad.”

“Damn.” Remus tore a meatball in half and stuck the halves on his middle fingers. “Wish I could have seen that.”

“They probably won’t fully recover for days.” Jan glanced at Roman again. “That entire debacle in Roman’s room shook Virgil and Thomas up. I have no idea what actually happened, but from what I heard, it sounds nightmarish.”

Roman curled into himself, grasping at one side of his cape. “Sorry,” he whispered into his spaghetti.

“No, I—” Jan stammered. “R-right. Well, doubtless as soon as they recover, your friends will be marching down here and getting you back. Virgil especially would hate to leave you in such company. They won’t trust me to take care of you, that’s for certain. Perhaps they’ll mount some sort of rescue mission.” Jan smirked. “That would certainly be entertaining. If they call upon me to play the villain, I will gladly oblige.”

“Liar,” Roman muttered. “What?”

Roman’s mouth closed. Jan stared at him. So did Remus.

“O-of course I’m a liar,” Jan said. “My name is Deceit.”

Wait—which was the lie? That Jan would want to play villain? That the Sides didn’t trust Jan? That the Sides would come for Roman at all?

Remus funneled spaghetti into his mouth. Thinking sucked. That’s why he left the smarty-pants stuff to Jan.

Jan, who was now stabbing at his spaghetti viciously. Roman’s eyes closed and he seemed to fall asleep in the table. Remus grabbed his bowl and placed it on his head, letting the remaining tendrils of spaghetti crawl down his forehead.

Jan slammed his fork on the table. “Did I do this?”

Remus scrunched up his face in confusion. “Do what? A murder? A butthole?”

“This.” Jan gestured violently at Roman. “Is this my—I mean, am I going to be held accountable for this?”

“Why do you care?” Remus asked.

“I’d rather not be burned at the stake for corrupting the good prince Creativity.” Jan bit into every word. “So? Roman? Is this my fault?”

Roman didn’t open his eyes. Remus was sure he hadn’t heard the question until Roman said,

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Jan hissed. “That is not an answer!”

Roman shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now.”

Jan opened his mouth and shut it again.

“If you’re not gonna eat your food,” Remus said to Roman, “can I—”

“I’ll save it as leftovers,” Jan interrupted, taking Roman’s plate and sliding it into the fridge. “Remus, touch it and your life is forfeit.”

Remus pouted. “Roman wouldn’t mind, right, Roman?” Roman snored softly, head on the table.

“Is he asleep?” Jan asked.

“I guess?” Remus shrugged. “Must have been tired.”

“Hmph.” Jan placed the dirty dishes in the sink. “There goes my plan to force him into doing dishes. If he’s loitering around for the night, he may as well make himself useful.”

Remus looked at Roman, who was drooling on the table. “Yeah, I wouldn’t count on it.” Janus sighed loudly, casting his eyes up to the ceiling.

“But I can do the dishes!” Remus offered, jumping up and wiggling his fingers. “I’ll just need some hot wax, molten lava, and—”

“Never mind.”

“It’ll take like three seconds! Literally!”

“Never mind, Remus.”

“Fine, whatever.” Remus kicked his chair. “You’re full of don’ts today. What can I do?”

Jan’s face pinched. “I suppose you can accompany me this evening.”

“Yay!” Remus hugged Jan quickly. “What are we doing?”

“I was thinking Aladdin. A classic tale of lying and deceiving one’s way to the top.”

“Alright!” Remus grinned. “I like the genie.”

“You would.” Jan glanced at Roman. “Maybe a Disney movie would—get him moving.”

“I don’t think he’d get moving if there was nuclear fallout, but worth a shot.” Remus slid into the living room. “Let’s go!”

“You get it ready,” Jan said. “I have to...” He picked up the fourth plate of spaghetti.

“Right.” Remus really, really didn’t want to be alone with his brother. It would be silent and deadly. “I’ll come with!”

Jan, to his credit, didn’t look immediately disgusted. “Remus, I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“I’m coming!” Remus winked and congratulated himself for his innuendo. Then again, everything was innuendo if you said it right. “You said we’d get to hang out! So I’m sticking to you like a barnacle on the bum!”

“Sh*t,” Jan said, not looking that disappointed.

“Do you have some?” Remus asked, dancing over to the hallway. “That’d make things interesting! Come on, JanJan, let’s not keep him waiting!”

Jan pushed past Remus and strode down the hall. Remus followed, reciting every sex position he knew. It was victory every time Jan winced or said “Really, Remus?” Heck, it was a victory every time Jan looked in his direction. Momentary distraction was the peak of Remus’ social skills and all he could ever hope to achieve.

They passed Remus’ room—Remus made sure to make the door roar loudly and enjoyed Jan’s little jump—and came to the handle-less door. Jan carefully unlocked the flap and slid the spaghetti inside. As soon as it fell in, he slammed the flap shut and locked it again.

“Why do you do that?” Remus asked, summoning a bone and chewing on it.

“You know how dangerous he is.” Jan stood up and wiped off his gloves.

“No, I mean, why feed him? It’d be safer if you...let him be, right?”

Jan gave Remus a piercing look. “He’s a part of Thomas too, whether we like it or not. I’m self- preservation. I can’t just let him starve.” Jan marched back down the hallway. “Aladdin, was it?”

“Huh.” Remus tossed the bone at a wall and it cracked in two. “So how’s Roman different?”

Jan froze. “I...Because Roman has somewhere else to go. Aladdin, right? Let’s go, Remus.”

Remus spared a glance at the unmarked door and followed.

Aladdin was alright. Remus made a little ding sound every time Aladdin was shown shirtless. Janus hummed along to all the songs, though he bared his teeth when Remus pointed it out. Roman woke up briefly about halfway through, having been transplanted to a pile of cushions on the couch. Remus wondered if he would sing along. Instead he just hummed to himself and closed his eyes. For a second he nodded along to the music—no, no he was just nodding off, and okay he was asleep again.

When Aladdin ended, Remus put on The Shining. Janus took that as a cue to leave.

“Put Roman to bed,” Janus reminded him. “Well...he’s already asleep, but don’t let him stay on the couch all night.”

“He seems pretty chill,” Remus said, watching Roman’s bangs ruffle with each snore.

“Then do whatever you want.” Janus yawned. “This has been a thoroughly delightful day and I hate to end it, but my brain may explode if I have to continue thinking. Don’t burn anything down.”

“No promises!” Remus said. “Night, JanJan!”

“Sweet dreams, Remus.”

Yeah. Right.

Jan disappeared down the hallway, leaving Remus alone. It was the boring part of The Shining, so he fast-forwarded to the weird part. Roman didn’t wake up even when the screams started. Still, it was kind of nice to have company. Usually Remus spent his nights alone, bingeing horror flicks until his eyeballs were red. He didn’t really get tired, so it didn’t matter, and he did some of his best work at night.

It definitely wasn’t because of the nightmares.

Remus caught himself mid-thought. Lying would just alert JanJan. And it wasn’t Jan’s business. Yeah, maybe Remus missed Jan’s lullabies and being able to actually act on that promise that ‘My door is always open, Remus.’ Maybe it would be nice if he didn’t have grisly dreams of his friends dying every night. But Jan was busy these days. And Remus was Intrusive Thoughts. This was part of the deal. Remus was all the nasty stuff siphoned off of Roman to keep it away from Thomas. It was his job. And Remus loved his job! Just...not the side effects.

Remus turned up the volume until his eardrums rattled and he couldn’t hear himself think. Roman muttered something and turned over.

It was loud. Really loud. Remus barely noticed when someone appeared in the doorway.

He did notice when the TV turned off.

“Hey!” Remus whirled. “Jan, what gives—”

It wasn’t Jan.

“Sorry,” Patton said, “but I’d like to talk to you.”

“Um.” Remus debated hollering for backup. “This isn’t the best time.”

“I know.” Patton stepped forward, wringing his hands. “Please? Just a minute?”

Remus shrugged, catapulted himself over the back of the couch, and bowed. “What can I help you with? You finally decided to murder that really annoying barista?”

“What? No!” Patton frowned. “Remus, murder is wrong!”

“Yeah, yeah, if you’re boring.” Remus waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, what’s the scoop? Haven’t got all night.”

“Right.” Patton nodded. “Um, have you seen Roman?”

Remus choked on air. “Say what now?”

“Roman,” Patton repeated. “Look, stuff—um, kind of got out of control today, so I was wondering—”

“Of course he’s here!” Remus laughed. “He’s a Dark Side now, PatPat! He’s asleep on the couch right now!”

There was a loud thump behind him.

“He’s asleep on the floor!” Remus winced. “Give me a sec?”

Patton nodded. Remus vaulted back over the couch and grabbed Roman’s sleeping form. “C’mon, bro, that cannot be comfortable. I’m putting up with the couch thing ‘cause I’m lazy and like the company, but you’ll put a real crick in your neck down there. Come on, up you get. There we go.” He shoved Roman into the pillows, made sure he was secure, and popped back over the couch. “You were saying?”

Patton’s eyes were wide. “He’s...he’s a Dark Side?”

“Oh, don’t act so pleased about it!” Remus folded his arms. “Thought you were trying to be nicer to us.”

“I am, I just—” Patton glanced at Roman, who was snoring on the couch. “I’m worried about him.”

“’Course you are! Join the club!” Remus grinned. “But he’s alright for now. We’ve got things under control!”

Patton didn’t look convinced. “Can you let me talk to him?” “He’s asleep.”

“When he wakes up?”

“He’ll probably fall right back asleep.”

“Well.” Patton nodded. “I’d like to talk to him at some point. Bring him Upstairs when you can.”

“Sure,” Remus said, gritting his teeth. “Upstairs. Soon.”

“Thanks,” Patton said, looking relieved. Remus noticed the skin around his eyes was red. “Um, tell Janus hi? And tell Roman...tell him I love him, alright?”

“Tell him yourself some other time.”

“I-I did.” Patton bit his lip. “He didn’t believe me.”

“Oh.” Remus clicked his tongue. “Gotcha. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks,” Patton said again. “That means a lot.”

“Cool,” Remus said. “Are we...done here? ‘Cause I’ve got, like, things to do—”

“Right! Sorry!” Patton laughed. “I’ll get out of your hair!”

“Have fun,” Remus said, strolling to the couch. “Stay alive, don’t turn into a frog with abs again ‘cause that was weird even by my standards, and watch your step ‘cause your left foot is in a puddle of blood.”

Patton squeaked and stumbled backwards. Remus laughed as he tried frantically to wipe off his shoes. Finally he just removed the shoe altogether, pinching it between two fingers and looking at it warily.

“Bye!” Remus said, hopping on top of the couch and waving.

“Bye!” Patton called back. “Oh, and Remus?”

Remus twisted his neck around like an owl. “Yeah?”

Patton didn’t even flinch. “I’m glad Roman has you. Good luck, kiddo.”

“Oh.” Remus tried not to cry. “Uh. Cool. Yeah.”

Patton gave him another smile and walked back down the hall.

Remus sank weakly into the couch, staring at the blank TV. His stomach was doing weird things. It was all bubbly and fizzy and light like he’d swallowed a sparkler. He hated it.

So he turned the TV back on. Roman slept through the night, Remus didn’t sleep at all, and despite all the blood and guts he filled his head with it, he couldn’t avoid the memory of Patton’s soft smile.

Next. Masterlist.

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centuryofdean · 3 years

Text

When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 19

Author Note:: So sorry for such a long update! COVID depression is no joke.. I have had a lot of lows lately and I haven’t even been reading fanfiction let alone writing it. Or reading in general. Things are a little better the last few days, so I am hoping this is a good start to get things finished.

Author Disclaimer:: The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue–also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line.

Summary:: From when Laurel Took was small she dreamed of a man. Every time she dreamed of him, he could not see or hear her. Over time they are able to communicate–but he’s been dreaming about her too. Finally after years of anticipation Laurel takes the leap and kisses him. Only for her to wake up and dread the real world. Then lightning strikes and she finds herself in a familiar place, with a familiar face.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+. NSFW.

Warnings:: Language, Violence and Scenes of Sexual Nature.

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Laurel

Bard led us through the house and into a small room. Singrid was the one to clear the bed and start to close all the blinds. At this point soft moans started to flee from Kili's throat. "Shhh," I murmured pushing his hair back to press my hand to his burning forehead, "it will be alright soon. I promise."

There were dark bags under his eyes in high contrast against his pale sheen skin. It was a terror to look at. His hair was already half soaked in the sweat. Fili was pressing his hands over various areas on his brother's body. "I need my bag," I shouted out to no one in particular. "There are herbs in there that could help."

Bard fled the room and slammed back in through it with a box full of different vials and sacks. "I have Elderberry and Burdock," he started to hand me the items. Bain stood in the corner watching fearfully as his father continued to sort through the box. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Kili twitching and grunting more loudly.

"Bain," I called softly. The teenager took a few steps towards me. "I need you to go to the Master's house and get Thorin Oakenshield. He is the Master Dwarf with blue eyes and loose black hair. Tell him that Kili is sick. Tell the hobbit Bilbo Baggins that I need my bag. Hurry, please!"

Immediately the boy turned and fled. If nothing was damaged in my bag I should still have a bulb of Kings Foil. "Bard, I need a pot ready. Do not put water in it, I have soaked water to use, I can't dilute it," I placed a hand on the man's arm. He stood tall once more and left the room. The two girls were huddled in the corner digging through laundry.

A pained scream echoed through the room as Kili trashed harshly. Fili clamped both of his hands over his brother's shoulders as he continued to convulse. I pulled my fingers through his hair as I brought our foreheads together, "Shh, fight through the pain. I'm here with you, I'm not going anywhere."

It only seemed to calm him a fraction, but not enough to stop his erratic movements.

Soon the heavy thudding of running feet bellowed all around us and shook the house. The first face to enter the doorway was Thorin. Electric blue eyes blazed as they narrowed in on his nephew. Kili choked, his body bending and twisting more viciously. In two steps Thorin was beside Fili putting his hands on Kili to keep him from moving too much. Bilbo pushed his way through all the dwarves to get to me, bag in hand. I took my eyes off my dwarven prince to receive the sack and tear through it. Wrapped tightly and still intact was the bulb of Kings Foil. I carefully handed it to my distant uncle or cousin, "Bilbo I need you to open this and pour all of it into the pot that Bard has prepared. Once it is bubbling bring me the entire pot."

Moments passed until the room was crowded with more than it could handle.

"Everyone who is not immediate family go wait in the other room," Balin thundered. His deep commanding voice sent shivers down my spine.

Did that include me? I hesitated before moving, slowly making my way to the door. Snarling and the sound of a scuffle bounced around the room. "No Laurel, you stay," Thorin boomed.

My body moved at the command so that I was before Kili again. Balin was holding both of Kili's feet, Fili was holding Kili's right arm, while Thorin was holding his left arm right next to me. I got to work by taking my knife and starting to cut out his pants where the wound was. Breath left me, leaving me gasping at the sight of the black purple bruising covered in thick black blood. It smelled of decay and death, like a deer that was out in the woods for weeks. Each of the veins around the wound were thick and black. It was the poison working its way through his body.

His skin was scorching now, so much that I could barely touch him without hissing myself.

"Are you having the hobbit boil weeds," Bard burst through the room confused.

My brows scrunched as I shook my head, "Its Kings Foil."

"We feed it to the pigs!"

"Tell one of the dwarves I need more," I shouted.

Even with his family watching I placed my knife at his chest and tore through the material of his shirt.

It revealed more horrors of black veins. How long was he letting this work up before he said something? Even if he didn't know the arrow was poisoned he didn't have to pretend it was nothing! Self-consciously I sent him a glare. Even then his eyes were wild and wide, teeth grit while he starred on at me.

A roar of a howl screamed through his lips as he writhed against the hands holding him down. As softly as I could I placed my ear against his burning chest and felt the erratic beat of his heart. If it was pumping so quickly in that way he was working the poison closer and closer to his heart without even knowing it. Again I looked to his face, only to feel my own heart beat erratically.

This is what death looked like.

With my chest in my stomach and no air to fill my lungs, I trembled for a moment. Kili was dying. The burn in my eyes started, I couldn't live in this world without him.

Bilbo burst through the door with a steaming pot. Once he sat it down on the table next to the bed I screamed as my hand met searing water. It didn't stop me as I scooped up the soggy weed and removed it. Without waiting or warning I shoved it into his wound.

He screamed inhumanly and vaulted off the bed. A few more dwarves popped their heads into the room and then entered to aid us in keeping Kili still. "Someone get me a mug and a rag," I screamed.

My chest actually hurt with how hard my heart was pounding, my hand throbbed with pain from the scalding water I put it into. Though without trying I was able to tune it out and become numb. Still my eyes were trained on his deep brown ones filled with pain.

Everything blurred until the only sharp image to focus on was him. Finally his eyes closed tight. I tore mine away, feeling the wetness of tears flowing down my face. It was as if my body was humming, I suddenly had adrenaline that I never felt before. I felt as if I could move mountains, but it was no use to me if I lost the love of my life.

His body slowly started to stop moving, I could feel him growing weak. My fingers pressed the Kings Foil into his wound a little deeper as I hissed, my lips trembling as my heart broke. "Esta sinome," my voice quivered. "Amin mela lle. Amind mela lle.

"Mela en' coiamin. Poika tuulo' 'kshapsae. Tula sinome. Tula sinome, Mela en'coimin, Amind mela lle!"

Something snapped. Everything became cold at once, goosebumps erupted all over my skin, even the skin not exposed to the air. All the adrenaline I had evaporated causing me to fall to my knees equally as weak. Just as I fell, hands still buried in Kili's flesh, he gasped, torso flinging forward as he came to sit. In moments he fell back into the bed eyes closed and even breathing.

My hands slipped to the bed as I tried to pull myself up. The strong arm of Thorin wrapped under my own as he pulled me up and held me. I put my ear to Kili's chest to listen to his heart beat slow and even. Trembling fingers wiped at the black mess on his thigh, pulling the Kings Foil away.

Underneath was a soft pink scar, surrounded by flush peach skin. There was no trace of bruising or poison filled veins.

Laughter bubbled up inside my chest as I was able to breathe deeply for a moment. The weight that settled on my chest was lifted and I gasped, tears flowing freely over my cheeks as I touched his cheek covered in stubble. His eyes opened, blurry and unfocused. The beautiful brown orbs settled on my face, his mouth moving softly, "No… you cannot be her. She is far away, she is far, far away from me. She watches and dreams of flying in starlight. She is of another world. No… you cannot be her... It was just another dream."

His large palm grasped my face, his hand sliding into my hair to grasp and tug gently on the courting braid he had put in there just mere nights ago. I was memorized as his lips moved again, the sound of his voice like a melody, "Do you think she could have ever loved me?"

The crooked smile I saw on rare occasions took his lips for a few moments before he rolled his face away and promptly slept.

Soon Fili brought a chair into the room, helping me into it because my legs shook too much to do it myself. Eventually Balin and Oin left the room, leaving me with the King and Princes. None of us said anything for a while, we just stared at Kili as he slept peacefully. Bard brought me another pot of water and a rag in which I used to clean Kili's thigh and leg from the poison and blood. At one point I had Fili hold his brother while I coaxed his sleeping form to swallow the warm Kings Foil water from before. Bofur had returned a while ago with more Kings Foil, that I instructed someone to make tea with. If I could get Kili to drink that for at least a day then it will cleanse his blood of the poison.

"Thank you."

I was startled out of cleaning Kili of sweat on his chest. Never have I heard Thorin sound so soft and genuine. In seconds the King was kneeling before me. Taking each hand in my own and meeting my eyes, "I am forever indebted to you. I owe you my life, and the deepest of all apologies.

"From the moment my eyes landed on you, I judged and treated you unjustly. That was my folly. Time after time you have proven me wrong in all my assumptions. Not only did you save my life and the lives of all in the company on more than one occasion, but you saved Kili's."

Tears started to collect in the brilliant blue orbs while the hairs of his mustache bristled.

"Lady Laurel Took," he continued, pressing his lips to each of the back of my hands, "You are brave, courageous, loyal, a huntress, and most of all loving. In honor of your acts, I name thee, Lady Laurel Took, kin of Durin's sons."

Kin of Durin's sons? Kin meant family but who was Durin and his sons? The confusion was evident, because he rose and placed a hand on my shoulder chuckling. Slowly I leaned sideways in my chair to look at Fili to see if I could get an answer.

The blonde prince light blue eyes were wide, his eyebrows almost into his hair. Even his bottom jaw was hanging softly. "Erm, that sounds pretty nice an all, but what does that mean," I whispered, looking between the two.

At once Fili jumped up, wrapping me up in his arms while he laughed, tossing me and catching me again.

"It is the highest honor a dwarf could receive," he shouted. "Even a higher honor since you are not a dwarf!"

I tried my best to untangle myself from him, but he refused to release his grasp on me. Fili's form crushed me to himself, a warm tight hug. "Laurel, uncle is decreeing that you are a part of the royal family," he whispered, "you are not just a dear friend, you are family."

Once his arms fell away, Thorin opened his own and stepped towards me, eloping me in one of the most heartwarming hugs I had yet to receive in my life. As he pulled away he pressed his lips to my forehead, cupping my cheek all the while smiling, "Yes, you are family. I bless the courtship between Kili, son of Vili, and yourself. Once betrothed, I will perform the wedding ceremony myself."

After all this time I fought Kili. I finally accepted that I loved him, I accepted his courting braid. Still I grew weary all because of Thorin's wrath. Here and now he was telling me he approved. Giggles were leaving my lips softly. Joy like no other filled me to the brim until I could not stand still.

Soon I was holding hands will Fili and dancing around.

"I have a little sister," he bellowed before dancing away and out of the room. Thorin followed, closing the door behind him.

I settled down into the chair next to Kili again, barely containing my smile. Before I had never put thought into marriage with him if he asked, but it didn't sound like a horrible idea. From as far as I could remember it had always been Kili who captured my interest, it was Kili who I confessed my dreams and desires for eight years. The love I had for him would bring me to life without a soul if he were to perish. The only thing that waited for me in the future where I came from was my grandmother and mother. All of whom I never had time to see or speak to.

No I belonged here now, with Kili in Middle Earth.

The youngest girl of Bard entered the room hesitantly, offering me the tea I had requested they made. I accepted it and place it next to me, "Thank you. Do you happen to have hair ties? Maybe three or four of them?"

She returned in moments with a handful. I thanked her again and sighed, tracing Kili's side with my hand. Just an hour or so ago I almost lost him. Now I was ecstatic with Thorin's blessing. With shaky fingers I tied the top of the braid that Kili put in my hair. He said I couldn't undo the braid, but he never said I couldn't cut it.

It took about an hour, and surprisingly no one entered the room—which was a good thing because I feared the wrath I would receive for what I was doing. With painstaking precision and patience I tied off the braid in my hair, cut it half way down, and wove it into Kili's hair behind his ear.

Just while I was re-clasping the bead with his hair in it, he groaned and started to stir. Once more my hands smoothed the hair from his face. "How do you feel," I asked.

"Weak and tired," he muttered. Without even opening his eyes, his fingers wove into my hair again stroking my scalp. His fingers searched for my braid, but stopped short when it wasn't found. That's when he snapped his eyes open.

"Did you take out your braid," he whispered.

"I cut it out."

Anger filled his eyes for a moment, "Could not bear to be bound to me?"

My hands found his, guiding it to his own hair where I had just finished his own braid.

"Just the opposite actually," I whispered. "I almost lost you Kili. It is a miracle you're alive."

His large calloused hand lifted up the elegant braid. It was a sight to see, his dark brown hair blending in almost seamlessly into my vibrant red locks. Different emotions filtered across his face. First he was angered, then bewildered, and finally he was beaming up at me with love.

"Kili I love you," I whispered leaning in close and grasping his hand, "I have always loved you. At first I loved the idea of you, because I didn't believe you to be real. Once I got here I knew that it was real. You were real, my love for you was real—"

Chapped lips were bruising against my own. I had no idea how he moved so quickly. One moment he was laying on the bed, watching and listening, and the next he pulled me into his lap and was kissing me with earnest. On their own accord my hands traveled his bare chest, sliding into his hair while he kissed me with devotion.

Once he pulled away for breath, he touched our foreheads together to look me deeply in the eyes.

"I have waited so long to hear you say that," he murmured, brushing his nose against mine to lean in and kiss me again.

It was natural how his hands fit perfectly on my hips, pulling me closer and holding me there. His lips trailed to my neck, causing me to feel light and fluttery. "Uncle has to let you stay in Erebor with us," he whispered, "I will make him see reason."

"It was already decided earlier she was welcome to stay in the mountain," Thorin's laughing voice came from behind me. Not wanting to be caught in a compromising position with his nephew, I jumped slightly and off the bed. Kili still kept his hand in mine.

"It was? When," he asked confused.

Fili popped his head in the room, entering when he realized that his brother was awake. He bounded over and crushed Kili in a tight warm hug. "You are finally awake!"

"The arrow that hit you was poisoned," Fili continued muttering, "you collapsed in the snow. I heard you and Laurel fighting, once I got there she was trying to get you up. Bard's son went to get the company from the Master's house. Laurel used Kings Foil to heal your wound."

At his words I grasped the tea and urged Kili to drink it. He made a face of disgust but drank it none the less. Balin had popped into the room next, looking equally as pleased to see Kili awake.

"Yes, if it was not for the lass and her Elvish healing magic we would have lost ya lad," Balin sighed.

Elvish healing magic? What magic? Kili looked at me with astonishment, but I shrugged my shoulders, "I didn't use magic, I just did what I learned from the herb book I was given in Rivendell."

Thorin shook his head solemnly, "You did as Balin said. We all witnessed it. You spoke Elvish as well."

"No. I was just saying anything I could think of to get Kili to not die. I told him to rest, and to come back to me. That I loved him and to heal."

The others looked at me with odd eyes, those of disbelief. "They speak the truth," Fili urged, "you were speaking Elvish. Perhaps your instincts came to surface when faced with fear."

"You even collapsed afterwards and turned a little blue. Cold to touch," Thorin supplied.

Either way I took Kili's hand and held it tightly. All that mattered was that he was alive with me, no matter how. He pressed his lips to the back of my hand and squeezed back.

"Afterwards Uncle apologized to Laurel, and bestowed kinship," Fili urged excitedly. Kili appeared more surprised than his brother when he heard the words left Thorin's lips.

Soon all the company came in to see Kili and wish him well. I stayed firmly at his side, not wanting to leave him quite yet. Bilbo even hugged Kili and wished him well. His eyes narrowed in confusing as he pointed to Kili's shoulder.

"Is that Laurel's hair," he asked.

Thorin pushed his way forward and grabbed the braid, inspecting and muttering to himself in another language.

"Welcome to the family little sister," Fili hollered.

Previous Chapter << Chapter 18: Likeness of One is Not the Other

Next Chapter >> Chapter 20: Accepting Warmth

#kili fanfic #kili fanfiction #kili x reader #kili x oc #kili durin #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #when lightning strikes #kili durin x reader #kili durin x oc

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fallen420 · 4 years

Text

Rebel Spy - Chapter 8: It’s Just Us Now

Description: Auroras life becomes lonely after the war ends but when a familiar Mandalorain needs her help who is she to refuse.

prologue chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5

chapter 6 chapter 7

We walk into the restaurant to watch Cara beat some guys ass. I hold the kid close to me as he giggles at the fight.

"Pay up mudsuckers!" She turns around and spots us.

"Picked up a new friend Mando?"

"Cara this is Aurora."

I smile, "Hi."

"Wait like commander Aurora? Like the rebel spy?"

I laugh a little, "That's the one."

"I've heard a lot of stories about you. You're badass."

"Thanks," I say as we sit down at the table.

Din catches her up on everything Greef said.

"It seems like a straightforward operation. They're providing the plan and firepower. We're the snare."

"With the kid?" She asks.

"That's why we're coming to you," I say as I shake my leg to keep the kid entertained.

"I don't know. I've been advised to lay low. If they run my chain code I'll be stuck in a cell for the rest of my life."

"I thought you were a veteran," Mando says.

"I've been a lot of things since. Most of them carry a life sentence. If I so much book passage on a ship registered to the New Republic, I'm-"

"We have a ship. I can bring you there and back with a handsome reward. You can live free of worry."

"I'm already free of worry, and I'm not in the mood to play soldier anymore. Especially fighting some local warlord."

"He's not a warlord," I say, "He's imperial." Cara is a rebel we both fought a war to get rid of these people I know she'll be willing to do it again.

"I'm in."

Mando and Cara come down from the cockpit. He lets her go through his weapon collection choosing which ones she likes best. I'm refilling our med kit because who knows whats gonna happen. They talk about why are we going back.

"And you're okay with bringing the kid?" She asks.

"No," I say my head still buried in the kit.

"That's why we're bringing you," Din says. The ship starts to shake and I look around for the kid and he's not here. The med kit rolls off the table as we get thrown around the ship.

"You left him up there?!"

I somehow make my way up the ladder only falling once.

The kid has a hold of the joystick.I grab the kid handing him to Din. I sit in the pilots chair pressing a few buttons and then ship goes back to normal.

I look back at Din, "You know the kid has a thing for buttons why leave him up here."

"We need someone to watch that thing," Cara says.

"Aurora's supposed too." There's a hint of playfulness in Din's voice.

"Okay tin can was I or was I not filling your med kit? She's right though we're gonna need some help."

"I think I know somebody."

"It hasn't grown much," the Ugnaught says about the kid. We landed on his farm not to long ago. Wish Din would of told me it was an Ugnaught. Ugnaught's worked for the empire.

"I think it might be a strand-cast," Din says.

"No, it's a Jedi," I say, "Like I told you before."

"Aurora-"

"I've seen it before. Have you?"

"I don't think it was engineered," Kuiil says, "I've seen the gene farms. This one is to evolved. Too ugly. This one, on the other hand," he looks at Cara, "Looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora."

"This is Cara Dune," Din says, "She was a shock tropper."

"You were a dropper?"

"Did you serve?"

"On the other side, I'm afraid." He sits down along with the rest of us, "But I'm proud to say that I paid out my clan's debt, and now I serve no one but myself."

An IG-11 walks through the door. All three of us stand up taking out our blasters pointing it at him.

He's holding a tray, "Would anyone care for some tea?"

"Huh?" I look at Din confused.

"Please lower your blasters. He will not harm you," Kuiil says.

"That thing is programmed to kill the baby," Mando reminds him.

"Not anymore."

"You reprogrammed it?" I ask.

"I did." The IG unit places the hot tea on the table.

Kuiil tells us the story of how he found the unit and reconstructed it. How he taught it everything from scratch. About how it developed a personality. By the end of the story we put our blasters away trusting Kuiil.

"Is it still a hunter?" Din asks.

"No. But it will protect."

"Tea?" The IG unit asks and I grab it out of its hands taking a drink feeling the warm tea calm my nerves.

Din and Kuiil are outside talking leaving Cara, the kid, and it inside Kuiil's hut.

"So," Cara says, "Are you and Mando...?

"What?" I feel my face flush I mean yeah we've shared some moments but we're not together or anything...right? "No. No. We're just partners."

"Sure."

"What do you mean sure?"

"Look I know we can't actually see his face but the way he looks at you its not a friendly look."

"Look even if he was looking at me like that. I'm-I'm sure it's against the code."

"And it's not?"

Before I can respond Din walks back in, "You guys ready to go?"

"Uh yeah."

Back on the ship Cara and Din are locked into an intense battle of arm wrestling. The kid and I watch intently.

"My credits are on Cara who you got?" I say to the kid.

"Shut," grunt, "Up," Din says and I can't help but laugh.

"Sounds like you're losing there target practice."

Then Cara stops what she's doing. It looks like he can't breathe. Immediately I turn to see the kid with his hand up and eyes closed. I grab him to stop him from killing her.

"That is not okay!" Cara yells

"He forced chocked her," my mind floods back to the imperial ships. It floods to all the people I watched die due to it.

"Have you seen it before?" Din asks.

I nod my head.

"Where?"

I close my eyes trying to calm the panic that flows through me as I remember, "Imperial ships." my voice comes out quieter than expected, "When I was spying."

"The kid's... evil?"

"No no. I think the kid- he just thought he was protecting you."

The kid and I lay in the cot fast asleep. Well, I was asleep until Din wakes me up.

"Hey," he says in a whisper.

I barely open my eyes, "What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You looked panicked earlier."

"Oh, that."

"Yeah."

"It's just I saw a lot on those ships and it brings up bad stuff. But I'm fine though Din really."

"Okay," he gets up. I was going to ask him to stay again but then I remember about Cara and Kuiil are here and we won't want too, "Good night cyar'ika."

"Night Din."

We land where Greef told us to meet him. He's outside with three other men.

All four of us walk out of the ship on the Mythosaur that Kuiil brought. We are now facing each other with the kid floating in between me and Mando in its new Pod

"Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando," Greef says, "But things have gotten complicated since you were last here. It appears that introductions are in order. It seems we've both provided security detail." he points at Cara, "I recommend the shock trooper guards the ship. These lava fields are lousy with Jawas."

"She's coming with me," Din says.

"But the town is now run my ex-Empire. If a Rebel Dropper and a Rebel Commander is with us they'll get their hackles up.

"They're coming."

"Fine. At least cover your tattoo. No need to flaunt it." Greef refers to the tattoo on Caras's arm. "Now, where is the little one?" Din looks at me before touching his vambrace pushing the kid's pod forward. He walks closer to the pod and my hand hovers over my blaster, "So, this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about." He picks up the kid, "What a precious little creature."

"Mando.." I whisper.

"I know."

"I can see why you didn't want to harm a hair on it wrinkled little head." He puts the kid back and Din and I both relax. "Well, I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all." Din closes the pod and brings the kid back to us, "The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light."

At camp, its dark except for the flames except for the orange flames. I sit next to Din with the kid on my lap as I feed him the meat they caught earlier. The kid coos and babbles as I feed him.

"I guess the little bugger's a carnivore," Greef says "Never seen anything like it. They were ready to pay a king's ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of highfalutin menagerie." He chuckles.

"Let's go over the plan again," Din says.

"We both enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And you kill him."

"Tell me about his reinforcements."

"They're all ex-empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof, they'll all scatter."

"What if they don't?" I ask.

"They will."

"That's not good enough," Din says.

"If, for argument's sake, a few of them don't realize that I'm their best past to alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild Hunters," Greef points to his men, "along with the battle-hardened commander and shock trooper, will cut down anyone who bucks."

"How many will there be?"

"No more then four," Greef stands up now, "He travels with, at most, a Fire Team. Trust me nothing can go wrong." Greef goes to grab a piece of meat but a vulture of some kind grabs it out of his hand with its claw. It seems to scratch him as he cries out in pain. Everyone stands up and starts shooting at it. I make sure to close the kid's pod.

They fly around us. I take my blaster out to help with the shooting. It's chaotic. There's blast everywhere these things are flying like crazy. One of them takes one of Greef's guild members.

One tries to grab Din making him drop to the floor. I start shooting at it trying to get it to let go of him. After a few shots, it does. With his arms free he points the fire from his vambrace at it. It flies away with its tail on fire. The other one follows it.

"You good?" I ask Din.

"Yeah," he says out of breath, "Thanks." We run back to the kid's pod to check on him. When I open it he just coos.

We hear Greef grunting in pain. I go over and kneel by his side.

"They got you good," I say. He has scratch marks on his arm. His arm is red as the poison spreads through his veins, I open the medkit taking out the bacta shot. Bacta shot are powerful Din and I have yet to use them because we haven't had too bad of injuries yet. "Hold still," I give him the shot without hesitation.

"How bad?" Din asks.

"Bad. The poison is spreading. Fast."

"So this-this is how it happens," Greef says as I begin to wrap his arm with the bandage to try and stop the spreading.

"Don't be so dramatic. Uh, I need another med-pack. Do we have anymore?" I look around and nothing.

"I'm guessing that's a no."

"It's still spreading. It's not working."

I look down and notice the kid next to me putting a hand out to touch Greef, "Get this thing outta here," Cara says.

"Wait." I say, "Let him."

He touches Greefs wound and closes his big little eyes.

"He's trying to eat me."

"Shut up." I watch as the wound mostly closes and the poison leaves his body. The kid sits on the ground probably tired then the wound closes all the way.

After walking for some time Greef stops, "I guess this is it." Greef turns around and shoots. The three of us pull out our blasters waiting to get hit but instead, the two bounty hunters behind us are dead. "There's something you should now." He walks over to the now-dead bounty hunters kicking the bodies to make sure they're dead, "The plane was to kill you and take the kid."

I knew it.

"But after what happened last night, I couldn't go through with it. Go on. You can gun me down here and now and it wouldn't violate the code. But if you do, this child will never be safe."

"We'll take our chances," Cara says.

"The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset. You tried to run, but where did it get you? Listen, we both need the client to be eliminated. Let me take the child to him and then you three..."

"No," I say, "You don't go near my kid."

"Let's just kill him and get outta here," Cara says.

Din lowers his blaster, "He's right." I lower mine too.

"What are you doing?"

"If the imp lives he'll send hunter after the child," Din says.

"It's a trap."

"Bring me."

"Bring you?" Greef says.

"Tell him you captured me. Get me close to him and I'll kill him."

"No," I say

"That's a good idea give me your blaster," Greef says and Din hands him his blaster.

"Mando what if he kills you?" I ask with fear in my voice.

"He won't."

"But what if."

"Its the only way."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, no-no. That would make them suspicious," Greef says.

"I don't care. I'm coming."

"Tell them she caught me," Din suggests.

"No, they know you have a girlfriend they know she's the Rebel Commander."

Din doesn't correct him when he says girlfriend so neither do I.

"Fine. Then Cara caught us. We all go in there together," I say,

"Okay," Greef says, "Cara can bring the child."

"No," I say, "Kid goes back to the ship."

"But without the child, none of this works!"

"I have a plan. I'm a commander I always have a plan. Kuiil, ride back to the Razor Crest with the kid and no don't come out no matter what. Once you're inside engage in all ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors."

He hands me the comlink, "I will keep the child safe."

"Let's go." Din hands Greef the cuffs and he cuffs the both of us.

We walk up to the entrance of the city. The place if flooded with stormtroopers.

"Chain code?" One asks.

"I have a gift for the boss," Greef says.

"Chain code?" The stormtrooper asks again. Greef hands it to him and he scans it, "I'll give you twenty credits for the helmet."

Greef fakes a laugh, "Not a chance. That's going on my wall."

"Go ahead."

"Here we are." Greef opens the door and Din and I go first. Inside there are four stormtroopers and the Imp sits at the table. He stands up when he sees me and Mando, "Look what I brought you. As promised."

"And the commander too. I'm impressed," the imp says. He looks at Din's armor, "What exquisite craftsmanship. It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be forged be its ancestral artisans." He looks at Greef, "Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?"

"I would be obliged."

Greef pushes me and Din to sit down at a booth. Greef sits next to us and the imp sits across. The tension in the air rises as two more stormtroopers walk in.

"It is a shame that your people suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Manalore resist our expansion? The empire improves every system it touches." the anger that goes through me is insane. My jaw clenches and I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something. Din places his cuffed hands over mine has an attempt to calm me down, "Judge by a metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution?"

Oh yeah, the world is worse off without the sadistic ruler.

"I see nothing but death and chaos."

That the empire caused.

"I would like to see the baby."

"Uh, Its asleep," Greef says putting his hand out.

"We all will be quiet. Open the pram," but before he can a stormtrooper whispers something into the imps ear. He stands up, "Don't think me to be rude. I must take this call." He stands up and walks over to the bar. Din carefully takes off his and mine and his cuffs slowly. Greef carefully hands us our blasters.

We look over to see what the imp is going. There's a blast. The imp gets shot and I don't really see anymore before Din is pushing me to the ground to take cover.

Once the shooting stops, we get up quietly running taking cover behind the walls as we peak out the now shot in window.

Outside are six shadow troopers.

An imperial ship pulls up and even more, stormtroopers come out of it.

"Kuiil are you back to the ship yet?" I ask into the comlink.

"Not yet."

"Get back to the ship and bail. Get the kid out of here. We're pinned down."

Out of nowhere a tie fighter lands behind the troopers. The hatch on top opens and out walks Moff Gideon.

"You have something I want," he says. I lean back against the wall not being able to look at him the memories of those imperial ships too strong.

"Who's this guy?" Cara asks.

I know the answer but I can't say his name.

"You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not."

"Kuiil are you back to the ship yet? They're onto us," I say into the comlink but there's no answer.

"In a few moments, it will be mine."

"Kuiil come in. Do you copy!"

"It means more to me than you will ever know."

"Kuiil are you there!?"

Din takes the comlink out of my hands and keeps asking the same questions. But its no use. It's just us now.

#pedro pascal #pedro pacal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x oc #paz vizla #baby yoda #mando #mando x reader #mando x oc #fan fic

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arotechno · 4 years

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The Heartless: Chapter 7

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Chapter VII: in which home is a fickle thing

“Mom, why do I have to keep what I am a secret?”

My mother set another cup of warm milk in front of me and pursed her lips. After seeming to think for a moment, she answered carefully, “Because, dear, there are a lot of mean people in the world who would do bad things if they knew.”

“What kinds of bad things?”

It was one of my earliest vivid memories; I was six years old. From as far back as I can remember, my parents had always told me that revealing that I was Heartless to anyone, no matter how trustworthy, was strictly forbidden.

“Well, your father and I could get in trouble. Or they may hurt you or take you away.”

“Why?”

My mother hesitated. This was before I knew of the curse; my parents had always kept it from me. Finally, she said, “Sometimes people are afraid of those that are different from them.” She bent down to eye-level and placed a hand on my shoulder. “The reasons don’t matter. What matters is that you don’t ever tell anyone, not even your friends.”

“I know.”

I did know. It was the earliest truth instilled in me; my identity was something to be hidden from view. It was the seed that one day, when Marcus spun his tale of the great evil that lived inside me, sprouted into shame.

So I learned to fake being normal and told no one, not for two more years. But I still carried the shame between my ribs, like a thorny stem that never quite blossomed into a rose.

Swallow’s Point was not much different than I remembered it, though the buildings had begun to wither and fade with the passage of time. Traipsing through the northeastern woods to get there had been a quiet affair, with only my thoughts and the gentle crunching of the autumn leaves under my boots to keep me company. The journey had only taken a few days this time, as compared to the week it had taken me to reach the Village of the Heartless seven years ago. When I began to run out of water as early as the third day, I was more thankful than ever for improved navigational skills and longer legs.

As I approached my house from down the road, I could see it had become overgrown with vines in the years since I ran away. The same old fence stood in a state of disrepair, and my father’s vegetable garden had yet to be replanted for the fall harvest. When I reached the front door, I froze. What if my parents didn’t want to see me?

The curse had always been a burden for them, to the point where sending me away became their only reasonable course of action after keeping me—against royal decree—for ten years. Perhaps they resented me for being born broken; if they’d had a normal child not plagued with the curse I had been dealt, then they would never have had to put themselves at risk. They could have had the perfect child, who grew up in the safety of their home and perhaps one day got married and bore them grandchildren. I was never going to be that child for them, and as I turned the knob to open the door I wondered if they regretted having a child at all.

The door swung open.

“Mom?” My voice broke and echoed through the small house. I don’t know if I had been expecting a grand welcome or the sting of rejection, but I had not expected what I received, which was nothing at all. Not a look, not a single breath, not even a crackle of the wood in the fireplace.

“Mom? Dad?” I called, stepping inside. “Hello?”

The house was eerily empty, the wooden dining table dusty like it hadn’t seen use in years, so empty that it seemed larger than it ever had. There was only stillness and silence, the only sounds my careful footsteps and bewildered breaths.

My own room, though dusty and donned with cobwebs, was in pristine order. The now faded quilt over my bed had been folded neatly over my pillow. What few books and toys I had owned were organized neatly on my shelf. What surprised me was the yellowing family portrait we had taken when I was seven years old, beaming from ear to ear, before I knew of curses or emptiness or human cruelty in child-sized packages. It sat framed on the shelf beside an empty, dirty vase which must have once held flowers before they decomposed over several years. It was as though someone were mourning my loss; maybe I might as well have been dead to them, or perhaps it was what they pretended to explain my absence.

“Ace, you need to run! Go! There isn’t much time!”

What had my father meant, there wasn’t much time?

I ran out the door and had half a mind to glance toward the center of the neighborhood first, where several adults had congregated amongst the children, trying to make sense of the chaos in its aftermath--Basil was nowhere to be seen. Carita made eye contact with me and stared, briefly, but said nothing and looked away as I turned and bolted down the road and toward the village’s western edge where my parents told me to run, crashing through the brush with branches scratching at my limbs until I was sure I was far enough away to never look back.

The air in the room suddenly felt oppressive, thick with some sadness I hadn’t allowed myself to feel for quite a while. Without thinking, I snatched up the frame and slipped it into my satchel. Then, in a panic, I bolted from the room and from the empty house of my childhood and pulled the door shut firmly.

“I thought that was you I saw coming up the road,” an eerily familiar voice piped up behind me. I jumped and whirled around to see Carita leaning against the beaten fence, arms crossed over her chest. She bent down and lifted a wicker basket from the dirt beside her feet.

“I got this for you when I saw that you were coming,” she explained, pulling off the covering cloth to reveal a few small bread rolls and a large canteen.

Wordlessly, I narrowed my eyes at the offering, cursing my traitorous stomach for growling at the prospect of food.

Carita placed a hand on her hip, rolling her eyes. “What, do you think I would poison you?” she questioned. Then she laughed. “Please, I had feelings for you when we were little. I’m just doing you a favor.”

I hesitated for a moment before reaching out and grabbing the basket from her hand. I felt like a desperate, wounded animal, downing all of the bread and the entire canteen of water in minutes while Carita stood over me like a self-satisfied hunter who had just spared me from a bullet between the eyes, dripping with smug confidence over having done the bare minimum of human decency.

“What’s your ulterior motive for being kind to me?” I demanded, taking a step back and crossing my arms.

Carita sighed. “Can’t I just be kind to an old childhood friend?”

“We weren’t friends.”

This caught her off guard. “Well—I mean, surely we were before… you know.”

“It proves we never were. You were friends with an idealized version of me that never existed.”

Plaintively, Carita toyed with the cloth in her hands, frowning at the dirt. “And which version would that be?”

“The version of me that is capable of love.”

I watched Carita’s eyes drift toward my chest, and she paused that way for a moment before reaching a palm forward. Possessed by raw fear, I leapt backward.

Carita’s lips formed a tight smile. “I figured as much,” she lamented. “Since you disappeared right after Marcus did what he did to Basil.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Where is he?” I demanded.

“Marcus?” Carita shrugged. “Probably in town. Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you were here.”

“Not Marcus. Basil.”

"If I knew, I would tell you. Last I ever saw him, he was escaping through the woods.”

My blood ran cold thinking of what could have happened to my best friend after I had run off. “And my parents?”

She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “A couple of days later, the royal guard passed through the neighborhood, and they disappeared; Basil’s too.”

My face must have fallen, as Carita smiled sympathetically, the cloth changing hands again.

“I’m sorry. I know what it feels like to lose someone.”

I shook my head vehemently, shutting my eyes. “You don’t. It’s not the same.”

“It might as well be.” I could feel Carita step closer to me.

“Quit toying with me,” I demanded, trying to step backward but finding myself firmly rooted to the ground. “I lost both my parents and the one person in this town who understood me thanks to the ignorance of people like you and everyone else in this godforsaken kingdom and you think your pain compares to mine? How can you say that?”

“Because I lost you seven years ago.”

My stomach lurched. “Th-That’s not the—”

I was cut off by Carita gripping me by the shoulders and pressing her lips against mine. My eyes shot open. Every muscle in my body froze, every drop of my blood went cold and still; the fairytales in the old books my mother used to read me always spoke of sparks flying, but the only warmth I felt was white hot terror creeping through my veins. I was paralyzed by fear for several moments before I managed to push Carita away from me, sending her stumbling backwards and landing flat on her back in the dirt road, the cloth from the basket fluttering through the air before coming to rest at her side.

“Stay the hell away from me,” I shouted, pulling the hood of my cloak up over my head and backing away down the road.

Carita pushed herself to a sitting position. “Ace, I didn’t mean it!”

“And I’m sure Marcus didn’t mean it when he ruined my life!” I turned around and sprinted down the road, turning the familiar sights of my hometown into a blur.

“Ace, wait! Come back!” I heard Carita call after me.

“I hate you!” I screamed, bolting through town without caring who saw or who was listening. “I hate this entire village! I hate this kingdom! I hate this curse and I hate myself!”

I kept running, darting between people and houses and market stalls with my head down and blinders up until I came crashing into Marcus himself, in all his six feet of smug-faced glory.

“Watch where you’re going,” he grumbled, glaring at me.

After stumbling backward, I took a defensive stance. “Don’t even think about coming any closer,” I threatened, gripping my bow behind me.

“You bumped into me,” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows. “Do I know you?”

My grip on the bow went slack, as did my jaw and every other muscle in my body (which had been tense ever since Carita first laid a hand on me). I stood there just like that as Marcus shook his head in disbelief and pushed past me, headed for home in the direction I had come.

#the heartless #aro #aromantic #aro writing #aro writers #aspec #aspec writing #aspec writers #writeblr #writing #op

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