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#I woke up with this stuck in my head....ominous....
mentalden · 14 days ago
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Had nightmares except they were of us on good terms. Us somewhat in love. My heart close to yours.
The nightmares were us all having good times, us happy. I woke up sick and sad and more tired than when I went to sleep.
I've felt off all day. Like something that I didn't consent to was started with out my permission. I could feels you near me. I could feel the water and the sun. It all felt ominous. That "this is good but why do I feel badly" type ominous.
I also spent all day with a different person I call "you" the night before. You're opening up more now and I love seeing multiple sides to you. I try to take you in as a complete person instead of specific parts of yourself. I don't like how you treat my cat though, I don't think she likes you much anymore either... I had a nightmare about us too.
I feel bad you opened your heart to me to have me find its not my kind. I feel bad I might prove to you just one more reason why you shouldn't open up to people. I don't want to be another nail in the coffin. I don't want to enforce the feelings you have that "to be known is to be hated" I don't dislike you for your true self, but things aren't cut and dry like they used to be. Things aren't sitting on the bus sharing head phones. Things aren't you ignoring me in the hall ways. Things are more grey and hazy. Things are more me latching to the good parts of you to avoid rejecting you for the bad parts. But the bad parts are stacking up. Things aren't all "thank you for understanding"
I find my heart in strange places. I find it floating in the air too far above me to catch it. I feel complete on my own but I also feel completely on my own. I have a lot of "you"s in my life. My life is piled high to the ceilings filled with different people I call "you" I only know how to keep track by the way you make me feel. I find myself in strange places. Stuck in the middle of something and nothing. In the middle of hope and hurt feelings. I'm so stuffed full of every "you" in my life. I'm tired of having yous clash and overlap. I'm tired of patterns, I'm tired of puzzles and pieces fitting together.
Maybe I should stick to the comfortable. Maybe the exciting isn't for me. Maybe the "what if"s aren't my cup of tea. Maybe I'm too grown or too tired to keep filling myself with ever "you" I find. Maybe I need to hollow myself out, carve all the "you" out of me and start fresh.
Start back with the basics. Back to the people I know. The people who hold my heart wrapped in silver. The people who cup me in their hands and let me spill through their fingers. Maybe those are the yous I should keep.
So why do I find it so hard to consider those people "yous" I call them by their names and I see their faces dance in my head when I think if them. Maybe I should remove anyone who becomes a "you" in my heart.
You all seem to have the same effect on me.
0 notes
mentalden · 14 days ago
Text
Had nightmares except they were of us on good terms. Us somewhat in love. My heart close to yours.
The nightmares were us all having good times, us happy. I woke up sick and sad and more tired than when I went to sleep.
I've felt off all day. Like something that I didn't consent to was started with out my permission. I could feels you near me. I could feel the water and the sun. It all felt ominous. That "this is good but why do I feel badly" type ominous.
I also spent all day with a different person I call "you" the night before. You're opening up more now and I love seeing multiple sides to you. I try to take you in as a complete person instead of specific parts of yourself. I don't like how you treat my cat though, I don't think she likes you much anymore either... I had a nightmare about us too.
I feel bad you opened your heart to me to have me find its not my kind. I feel bad I might prove to you just one more reason why you shouldn't open up to people. I don't want to be another nail in the coffin. I don't want to enforce the feelings you have that "to be known is to be hated" I don't dislike you for your true self, but things aren't cut and dry like they used to be. Things aren't sitting on the bus sharing head phones. Things aren't you ignoring me in the hall ways. Things are more grey and hazy. Things are more me latching to the good parts of you to avoid rejecting you for the bad parts. But the bad parts are stacking up. Things aren't all "thank you for understanding"
I find my heart in strange places. I find it floating in the air too far above me to catch it. I feel complete on my own but I also feel completely on my own. I have a lot of "you"s in my life. My life is piled high to the ceilings filled with different people I call "you" I only know how to keep track by the way you make me feel. I find myself in strange places. Stuck in the middle of something and nothing. In the middle of hope and hurt feelings. I'm so stuffed full of every "you" in my life. I'm tired of having yous clash and overlap. I'm tired of patterns, I'm tired of puzzles and pieces fitting together.
Maybe I should stick to the comfortable. Maybe the exciting isn't for me. Maybe the "what if"s aren't my cup of tea. Maybe I'm too grown or too tired to keep filling myself with ever "you" I find. Maybe I need to hollow myself out, carve all the "you" out of me and start fresh.
Start back with the basics. Back to the people I know. The people who hold my heart wrapped in silver. The people who cup me in their hands and let me spill through their fingers. Maybe those are the yous I should keep.
So why do I find it so hard to consider those people "yous" I call them by their names and I see their faces dance in my head when I think if them. Maybe I should remove anyone who becomes a "you" in my heart.
You all seem to have the same effect on me.
0 notes
auriel187 · a month ago
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Purgatory Ch.1
Word count: 8500 (around)
Warnings: Creepy Capitals being Creepy Capitals...
Pairings: None yet (ship who you want)
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The Conclave
In times I tremble, I hold onto my heart knowing their safety is more important than my own.
In krono mhe slipp lowa, mhe kep onto mi beeta knowing demens secur is masal imprativ than mi own.
Eulalia
The cityscape was unapologetically urban. There were no trees or city planted blooms, just monoliths of concrete and glass soaring out of the sidewalk in an exact grid pattern. At night it was beautiful in it's own way, there were so many lights. By day you relied on the sky to let you know that it wasn't a monochromatic world; just one in which the people were too busy for life. For over a generation progress had meant the teaching of specific skill sets to the children of The Felicity and The Hope Rises. In most parts of this city we only work and eat, there was no time to sweep fall leaves or plant spring flowers, so they eliminated them. It was sad how mundane and rigid life became. There was no beauty, hardly even enough to notice the blue above. With no more designers, our clothing and cars never change, there are five styles of everything in Ellis, but you’ll very rarely see different districts dressed the same way. In this way our city outperforms those in the region.
In the mind of the young outcast I used to be, it was like a story to me. One that became more and more like a nightmare as time ripped every shred of innocence from my life.
The coldness of the slate tile and it's dampness seeped through the thin polyester trousers my brother, Hami, had stolen from the market. With knees pulled tight to my pronounced rib cage I shivered in the early morning chill. In this poor light the roof-tops spread in every direction like great grey serpents with rectangular scales. Only the red brick chimneys ruined the illusion, but in this light they were just as monochromatic as everything else, the slate, the swirling smog, the streets that were never deserted, the unfriendly sky with its dense cloud robbing me of the sunrise. From here I could see what a maze this borough was, every house three stories and each joined to the next. The streets curved as if laid down on a whim a few centuries ago before anyone had conceived of a grid pattern idea.
There I’d stay while I waited for school to begin, in my ripped khakis and oversized faded maroon shirt. There I’d stay telling myself stories of brave heroes who had it all wishing I could be one of them. Hungry, cold and tired from all the city had to give me, was it selfish of me to wish this on the little girl in my class who called me by the wrong name telling me I’d live the rest of my life covered in mud and shit and drinking out of a clogged gutter?
From the Mass, you could see all the things to love about the city, and there was a lot to love about this city. It was one thing I loved about Capital Hill. From the high arches in the towering glass buildings to the balconies that look over the sea of homes and businesses. It was one of the things I never had back home. The views from here were stunning. I could see The Torch glistening in the golden rays of sunlight, and the sense of safety that fills me is almost overwhelming. “Miss Suarez,” I heard behind me as I felt the soft breeze hitting the apples of my cheeks. The stray hairs behind my ears flailed about behind my ears as I turned to face the intruder now standing before me. He practically filled the doorway, in his uniform that made him look more like a cinder block than a man. His half shaved black hair glistened in the light before he took a step toward me. “The work day is over for you. There’s gonna be a Conclave later this evening at The Torch.”
I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible, but judging by the way he held back his laughter I guess I failed. “What for?” I proceeded on as if I didn’t realise the cameras were there, and Seraphineas was living for it. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes as he chuckled boredly, “Maybe it’s another execution...or maybe they’re announcing a new system in place that only benefits them.” It was impossible not to hear the humour in his deep voice as he mocked the Capitals and the past Conclaves. Of course, knowing that he would never say anything like this in front of his other guard buddies really put a damper on things. He must’ve seen my fading smile because he immediately turned to walk me out. I slipped into the elevator, the wall of glass turned into a mirror. I see why people assumed we were related. We were both relatively tall, him at six feet and myself at almost five foot eight. Thin figures adorned with muscle that came from our unique forms of exercise. “The Conclave begins at five. You’ll be charted too so be careful.” Phineas warned me as we exited the elevator just before we parted ways.
Well, that wasn’t ominous at all. You’d think something like that would bother a girl, but no. I’ve lived in this city my whole life. A girl gets used to the threats disguised as requests. They don’t just crash suddenly before you like lightning in a storm, I’ve known them to be the sudden raindrop before a downpour. It reminded me of the unease I felt every time I entered The Felicity. The Capital Hill district was beautiful. With their grand buildings and picturesque views, it was easy to say how much nicer it was then The Barrens or The Shadows. It was just another monster behind the curtain. A puppeteer pulling the strings of laws and lives of the people around them. They were an oxygen mask filled with poisonous gas to anyone that wasn’t their own. Luckily, I was close enough for them to view my life worth saving if shit ever happened.
I was a Regal now. Almost thirty eight percent of the population, we were almost untouchable in the eyes of society. We were privileged and we knew it, most of us acting like assholes because of it. I knew better. I used to be part of the forty two percent of Ellis. In short, my family was living ration to ration, sick and in a small house that was barely standing. I had a mother who worked her ass off just to come home to four kids and a father I barely knew because he was off working the most shifts he could. Unfortunately, the whole family plan didn’t work out when my mother and brothers all got Galixx, leaving only my dad and I.
I think we lived because we weren’t always home. I was the only one who went to school. Maybe if they didn’t think to send me away, I could’ve been with them. Instead, I left for school everyday and came home one day to my crying mother holding my brother, Devis, whose face was covered with sweat, dirt and tears as he coughed up blood. I turned and ran outside my home and began screaming until I found one of the town guard. I don’t know who long it took me to find him but when we got back, my mother was wailing and begging for the guard to take me away as she started coughing between her sobs.
I went to bed that night with tear stains running down my face, and to make matters worse, I was completely alone. I didn’t call anyone, simply sitting in my room with my eyes screwed shut until I eventually dozed off.
I woke up the next morning with a guard outside ready to escort me to my new home. My new home in The Hope Rises. It was nicer than my old home there was also more room up here not that my dad would be spending much time at home. It didn’t matter though, I was never completely alone. We all had our own family, mine just came in the form of Tauriel.
She was at the root of most of my happy memories. From my first day of school when she braided my hair and told me stories from books she had read from before the bunkers opened. I’d spend some nights at her house doing homework. She never really paid attention to anything aside from Earth Class. It was considered a Rogue class, but that didn’t stop a few Blends from coming in. Maybe she was interested because of the books she read of mountains that reached clouds, or butterflies with bright wings and this class was the closest thing to actually learning about them. She just wanted a world beyond these walls. I understood that. It just made us better friends. Even when I changed districts, we were still inseparable.
But, as Murphy’s Law dictates, “Everything that can go wrong will.” It was one of those days where Tauriel’s mom and I were baking for some Capital party. One of the snobby events where they needed catering and waiters. Zenobia, Tauriel’s mother, had been working for hours and seemed glad to have the assistance of a twelve year old. I had been decorating the large cake when I heard screaming from outside. Zenobia quickly ran to the window and nearly passed out. I muttered ‘Tori?’ before I was out the front door, seeing three guards trying to cuff her and shocking her into submission. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Her mom asked, trying to make it for her child. “Your child hacked into a government system with intent to distribute information.” I saw red, almost jumping on the guard closest to me. “She’s eleven, you lunatics!” Her mother reached for her daughter and the guard holding her hit her in the stomach. Tauriel and I froze. I didn’t know where to look. From the guard beating Zenobia to the guards dragging Tauriel to a large truck and throwing her in. I took a step in Tauriel’s direction and regretted it instantly.
A loud clang echoed behind me and Zenobia was lying on the ground, the guard walking to the truck without a second thought. When I ran to the unconscious woman, the truck drove away and I was stuck. Do I run for help or do I stay with her? I couldn’t shake the memory of my mom and Devis and what if I could just have faster? I need to stay with her. I’m not risking it again.
“Miss Fa Suarez?” I heard a voice say from behind me. I only turn my head but I stay pretty much in place as the swaying of the shuttle brings me back to the world I should be in. “It’s your stop.” He looks concerned. In his words, I’m usually ‘sharp as a tack’. I walk to the front of the shuttle and reach into my pocket. He’s here everyday. From my six AM trips to The Felicity straight to my trips back home at eight PM. “Take a day.” I say handing him my fair, plus another tip for waiting for me to get off. He never accepts my tips, but that doesn’t stop me from stuffing it in the small basket where he keeps his personal belongings. “This is why I got you these. Tell that sister yours I said to eat.” He handed me four wraps. I nodded my thanks at the sweet old man. “My love to the greats.” He laughed at my words before watching to make sure I descended the shuttle safely.
I turned towards my building. A large gold bricked building not very many stories high, but it was honestly much smaller on the inside than one would think when examining the building from outside. The air was cold here, it always was. With Tauriel constantly in the garage and having several pieces of machinery, the cool air prevented her and I from becoming casualties of her rage. She only ever got into tinkering when she was pissed. Based on the loud echoing clanking I could hear echoing from downstairs, I figured she’d need time to cool off and maybe put down whatever large metal object was colliding with her desk. In any sense, we had to be at a Conclave in a few hours.
My room wasn’t very big, only enough space to place my bed and two drawers. The room already had a large closet in the back so it’s not like I needed much in here anyways. The bronze and turquoise lights that swirled designs in my room. The premise of light and shadow was always appealing to me, maybe because it accrued anywhere and remained a natural part of life no matter what district you lived in. I headed towards my closet in search of something formal for the Conclave. I was never one for overt femininity, having been taught at a young age to not give a crap about what I look like and to just get the work done. That being said, I always managed to find a dress or two that I really did like. Scouring through pieces of cotton and linen, I stopped suddenly when I saw it again. A distressed brown leather coat.
It was just a jacket. It was just a stupid leather jacket with a padded quilt patch on the left elbow and a crap ton of buckles. There were faded letters on the left chest and a sort of mesh material that would cover my knuckles. It was just a jacket, and I loved it. Like a hidden piece of me that I never really show. This jacket screamed Rogue in uppercase letters. I loved that, even though I hadn’t been a Rogue in sixteen years. It almost felt wrong to wear it sometimes. Like I was an impostor trying to pass as something I wasn’t. I wasn’t even close.
I always envied Tauriel in that regard. Despite living here in The Regal Ward, The Hope Rises, with me, she never seemed to fear being shunned for not attempting to fit into the higher classed district. Fiercely adorning leather and denim in her everyday attire, she looked more like a Rogue than a Blend. Then again, why try fitting in when the world already looks down on you. Being that Tauriel’s district accounted for only one percent, and having been around Rogues most of her life it was easy to understand why she might be more comfortable in leather and studs.
“Are you wearing that tonight?” I heard her ask behind me. I should’ve figured she was on her way up when the banging and crashing ceased. I was holding the jacket in my hands, my fingers running over the cuff. “No...it doesn’t go with anything I own.” I gave my reply, letting my eyes drift past the coat and toward some of the other items of clothing in the confined space. I grab an old dress. The ornate gold dress collar along the black halter top matched the asymmetrical leaves on the red rose skirt. If it still fits like I remember, it should stop a little above my knee. “I’ll be in the shower. Do you…” before I could even finish asking, she responded. “Yes.” And with that, I left.
I spent almost thirty minutes in the bathroom, I was wrapped in my robe with my hair soaking wet. In the mirror, I hold my own gaze for just a second before taking into account how tired I must look. The bags under my eyes were devastatingly prominent. I don’t look at myself often, too afraid to not recognize myself from the old photos I had hanging in my room, and I was right. My features are sharper now, more pronounced jaw, higher cheekbones, and my eyes look more almond than monolid. I look like my mom. Though her hair was shiny black and mine was dark brown and my eyes are slightly darker than hers, I can still see it sickeningly clear. I placed my hand on the scar on my neck, remembering where my birthmark used to be. Descended from Natives and Malaysian ancestors, teachers at school would tell me that the very DNA in my bones held more history than our textbooks.
I’d know. I read them all.
It wasn’t much but keeping my hair down with a braid securely clipped behind my ears, neither Tauriel nor I had any makeup so my bare face and simple hairdo, Just dry your tears and fake a smile. Nobody wants to see a Regal cry. “You know, your eyes are going to get all puffed up. Here.” Tauriel stood behind me clutching a bottle of eye drops. I smiled at my oldest friend before I slung my arm over her shoulder and we walked to her room. I could never imagine my life without her. At this point, she was all I had to live for.
My little sister. I would walk from Heaven to Hell (and everywhere in between) for.
Tauriel
I always hated Conclaves. They always seemed too public. Ironic when you think about it. The word ‘conclave’ actually meant private meeting so the large citywide events seemed like a lie. I felt almost pageant-ish, told to look my best because of how many “eligible bachelors” there were. I honestly just think it’s because the Capitals would never want to be seen with the lower districts in our ‘rags and cheap coats’. In my opinion, the clothes the lower districts could afford only seemed to make the Capitals look more classy, almost like they were subtly jabbing at us in a way that said “haha, even in your best you’re not at level with our best.” And if we were looking to impress the eligible, more attractive people, The Rogues held that trophy for decades. Honestly, the glassy dullness of Capitals creeped me out. I wasn’t the only one who thought that either, the distinct features of each district were almost immediately identifiable.
The Capitals, born and raised in Capital Hill (aka The Felicity) had the most interesting eyes in the world, very distinctive for their central heterochromic irises that housed multiple colours at a time. That and the fact that most of them were fat faced from being able to eat was a dead giveaway. They look like the Bill Nye bobblehead Eulalia had on her desk. Capital also wore their hair short. I never understood why, but long hair was a sign of rebellion against the “oppressive and derogatory order of the Capital men.” I’ll give you one guess what demographic was saying shit like that. I’ll give you a hint, they steal daddy’s cards and mommy’s rocks to go flirt with the Rogue boys much to the disapproval of the elders. Acting like they were edgy for going through the same phase as their mothers did, before they realize that Rogue men don’t give a fuck about rocks unless it gets them paid.
The Regals were similar, wearing their hair slightly longer. Most had extremely lean frames due to the training most of them worked for since the age of six to become a guard. The Regal Ward housed most of the idiotic soldier boys, I was honestly surprised when a Regal came along and decided that they would rather sell booze to the city rather than tote a gun and act like you owned the place. Most regal women (like Eulalia) studied for the higher grades, like doctors and lawyers. It was cool to see Regals, though. Their tag was their hair. Yes it was usually cut short but I think they made up for it with the silver that rimmed their hair from birth.
Rogues were almost unbelievable in their district appearance. They had all the most beautiful features from their naturally sharp jawlines with either dimples or freckles (sometimes both). The boys usually had long hair, mostly because the Government didn’t think it was a good idea to give Rogues and Infects access to sharp edged tools, partly because most of them thought they looked tough. They were all ripped, boys and girls from years of literal heavy lifting. I always considered myself lucky to be a Blend in that regard. We always got some kind of Rogue gene. I dawned dimples. My Jawline wasn’t as defined but I had that feature and I was glad I did. Eulalia was of Native descent so her bone structure resembled a statue carved of marble.
Eulalia kept fidgeting with the metal collar on her dress, her jacket fitting her narrow frame as the dress hung above her knees. I know for a fact how much she hated wearing tight, single layers. Regales often wore baggy jumpers with tattered looking overlayers. It was the perfect look for her. Mostly Regal but with an obvious Rogue history. “Hey.” I whispered, her head snapping down to me due to her not only being a few inches taller than me but in heels nearly the same height Seraphineas. “You okay?” I asked. The huge influx of people walking towards The Torch, once a mighty statue.
She always had this moment where she stands just out of view of the guard. The Conclaves would separate people based on district and having only recently (not recently) turned twenty one, the word Regal was now branded on her identifications, she still felt like a traitor for standing with them. She nodded, softly patting my hand before walking towards the desk. I did the same.
“Hold out your hand please.” A woman asked, holding a large glass plate with a few small censors out to me. It was cold under my palms as it scanned the fingerprints. My face appeared on a small screen in front of the woman. It must’ve had the words Bruise in big block letters because the demeanor of this woman changed as she stared me down. She quickly gripped my arm and clasped a large silver cuff on my wrist. Could she feel me rolling my eyes at this? I huffed a laugh at her attempt to be nonchalant. She has to know how obvious it is that she now fears a twenty three year old. I stared at the blinking light as I walked through the stone arch that led to the city center. The four sectors were at least proportional to the Districts population, Blends/ Bruises having the least amount of people. I stood in the back, my eyes glancing over to the Regal section where I attempted to find Eulalia. I can see Seraphineas walking down the row and walking towards the back of the section. The silver streaks in his shortened hair I can recognize immediately, even in the sea of silver headed citizens. He liked to dye his hair darker, I know he tries to keep his hair as neutral as possible as to not get busted right away when he gets sent undercover, but that only made the silver look like a slate blue.
The microphone screamed. A short, sickly woman stood on the stage with a tall, semi healthy looking man. They were Capital to the heights accord. The Jevons to be exact. They were the parents to three kids. Spoiled like asshats as most people like to call them. They come to the Mopes once a week. They go thrifting cause it sounds real fun and looks real cool when a Capital is down to get down, while they wear their false lashes that wave like flags to the men here. I can see their eldest, a girl by the name of Apathy and yes she lives up to her name. A narcissist who spends her time ridiculing the districts for the fact that The Felicity robs us blind. Places like The Barrens and The Bounds were trash holes where the people should bow down and kiss her feet. The only reason she even dares cross the boundary is to find a piece of ass they’d dump after a month anyway.
Even now, Apathy and Power (yes, Elodora and Zenier Jevon named their son Power) were basking in the spotlight of Capital glory, whilst Anarchy, the youngest, was staring off into the Regal section with her lower lip between her teeth. Apparently mommy and daddy’s speech was a bore. She really thought she was somebody though. Her honey gold tresses dangle to her lower back rather than the neatly buzzed pixie most of the women wore.
“We celebrate another year of safety and sanctity behind the walls of Ellis...” The woman on stage spoke in a shrill voice that instantly made my whole brain throb. Can this day get any better? Well yes actually. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the one and only October Vervent. I was nearly four years older than him and I'm thoroughly convinced he’s been taller than me since birth. I slowly weaved my way through the section to find the taller young man. I pat his shoulder causing him to jump slightly and smile almost immediately. His mother was a Rogue, just like mine. His jawline was more rounded, less sharp than most Rogues and Blends. He was of Chinese descent, which gave him shiny black hair that only cut off below his ears with a single streak of silver just behind his left ear. Just below but still in sight, was a tattoo that read “I CAN’T HEAR YOU.” Well, that’s one way to tell the world you’re deaf and mute.
I knew he had spent the better half of ten minutes reading the lips of the Jevons standing on the large metal podium. I turned to face him. He followed suit with an even bigger smile. I saw two small scars just above his ears. I’ll have to do something with that later. “It is our pleasure to present the recipients of this year's Grands.” Elodora continued with her rehearsed and very poorly executed speech. I normally would have stopped listening by now, but October needed a break from people being completely oblivious to his needs and the needs of people like him. I began signing to him, each word they said. “Mara Fox of the Barrens District. An extra one hundred was added to your wage, congratulations on receiving Dead Eye, Miss Fox.” A knew the name. I’m sure Everybody did. Every member of the Fox family walking the earth had naturally bright red hair. Mara was the only one with a fiery red.
She walked up on stage almost gingerly. The apprehension in her warm brown eyes as she twisted the material of her dusty rose dress, which was actually just an oversized T shirt with bleach stains and burn holes at the bottom. Her hair was in an updo. The front was twisted up to the right side of her head with a long braid that wrapped the rest into a sock bun. The smile on her face was fake. She usually had these deep dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. She was on the stage, the uncomfortable feeling that this was some kind of sick joke was evident by her wandering eyes. The part that made me sick, though, was when Zenier Jevon looked her up and down, biting his lip at the exposed fair skin of her legs. He stared at her almost greedily as he shook her hand. He was married with three demon children and was currently drooling at the thought of being with a twenty five year old on a public stage. A girl the same age as his youngest daughter with his wife standing right next to him as the creep caressed her hand. Were all men in power this fucking gross? She bid the couple a near silent thank you as she practically flew off the stage.
A low applause filled the room as she returned to her place with all the other Rogues and Infects. Everyone began to move out of the aisle, heading for the doors when, “The next recipient of this grand is…” What the hell? In the 23 years I’ve lived in the city and all the Conclaves I attended, there was never more than one recipient. Never has there been multiple. Ever. The crowds all stood frozen. Something wasn’t quite right about this. “...Eulalia Fa Suarez!”
Something definitely was right here.
Eulalia looked more confused than I thought she would. Her eyes narrowed as she slowly walked to the stage. She kept shooting questioning looks to both Seraphineas and I as she shook the hands of the Jevon’s on stage. Xenier had the fakest of fake smiles before he practically pushed her off the stage, where the crowd raised their hands in an awkwardly pushed applause. October and I didn't applaud though. I think he might’ve been able to sense my worry because even as I stood completely spaced out, staring at the empty space where Eulalia was standing not that long ago.
“The next grand being received,” I snapped out of my daze and signed to October. I know he was able to read lips but honestly he deserved all the help the world had to offer. “Thayer Michaels for bringing in the most food for the city!” Eladora spoke pridefully as the Rogues and Blends (Infects and Bruises included) either scoffed or dramatically rolled their eyes. Of course we did. Regals had the highest population and spent most days begging for scraps. Blends were treated just the same unless both parents were in the picture. Capitals were less than fifteen percent of Ellis and for some ridiculous reason, they deem themselves more important than every other district taking first picks of long hauls and leaving enough for them to have a chuckle watching the poorest of citizens fight for stale bread or and water rations.
I wasn’t complaining. If anyone deserved the grand, it was Mara Fox, EulaliaFa Suarez and Thayer Michaels. Mara Fox, when she wasn’t doing the wood work or in the meat room, spent hours teaching young Rogues how to read, giving them the education most of them had to give up in order to eat. Eulalia bought big portions of food and would walk the streets of the Barren giving food to families. She cries when she comes back and begs me not to ask about it. In guilt, she pushes to raise the ration fund for Capitals and Regals before she offers her leisure time (which she barely has) to teach kids in the neighborhoods that had no doctors basic medical skills. Thayer spent his time not hunting as a caretaker. He would walk October and a few other people to and from places, getting them groceries and even playing with them in parks. It didn’t need to be said that October was his favorite. October was partial to him too, if the smile that was currently on his face said anything as he watched the much taller, much older man walk on stage. He deserved it. All three of them did, but giving them grands to commemorate for all they’ve done almost exclusively for The Felicity made them seem far less noble.
At this point, for October, I tried not to focus on the fact that Eladore was eyeing Thayer the same way Zenier was eyeing Mara. What the fuck is wrong with these people?
When the Conclave ended, there was this feeling of unease. October and I still stood side by side as the Capitals made their way out first, not wanting to be surrounded by the lowest of lows for longer than necessary. They also just got to leave. Every other district was either held back to get your cuff taken off or you were waiting for someone who did. Yet another way to separate us and treat us like crap. All because I have a flashy red label next to my name. To hell with it all. I stood in the line watching as people existed around me. I never felt like I was existing anywhere close to them. Eulalia was having a conversation with October, Mara was having a moment with her boyfriend and Seraphineas is breaking up a fight. Oh this chaotic world of mine.
“You know,” I heard a deep voice behind me. An air of familiarity hit and shifted to my comfortable numbness once I knew who it was. “The point is for you to move up when people leave, right. Don’t tell me you grew attached to that thing.” Yup, same old Thayer. I took a few steps forward closing the gap between me and the tall Rogue girl in front of me. “Still not much of a talker, huh, Jailbait?” He said quietly enough so only I could hear him. Part of me wanted to clock him for bring up that stupid ass nickname. Another part wanted to give a smart ass reply. I was so in my own head, I missed the opportunity. “You always did prefer hunks of metal to people.” He bit. I just knew the bastard had a smirk on his face right now. “Hunks of metal don’t talk and aren’t nearly as narcissistic.” I responded, adamant on getting away from the prick.
I was never so glad to see a Capital in my life and this one was a real bitch. The younger woman had the angriest look in her eye when I walked up, not sure why. I don’t fuck with Capitals and the feeling was mutual. “Have you stolen any property not belonging to you during the conclave?” What the fuck was there to steal, all the shits a person could give? “No.” She sized me up before shooting a quick glance to Thayer, who was still behind me. “During the Conclave, did you skip a mandatory announcement for-” She looked at Thayer again, this time slowly taking in his features, “any reason of recreation?” Is she serious? I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, we ran off to tap dance on the Torch. I guess you caught us.” I could hear a few people snickering at my rebuttal. At least they have a sense of humour.
Eulalia
Tauriel looked about as comfortable as I thought she would. She had a scowl on her face as the attendant pried the cuff off of her wrist. “Ak heppia?” I called out to her. She turned to me with a small smile. She didn’t have to look up to see who was talking to her, I’m pretty sure only a handful of people still speak Dyselian. It made Tauriel feel safe, like people couldn’t poke their nose into our thoughts and conversations. She nodded slowly, she was alright but the exhaustion of having to deal with so many people was getting to her. “Mhe am heppia, mhe just desir to vette hadven.” I chuckled at that, because of course she just wanted to go back home. I honestly am not sure why she didn’t want to stay. Most girls would kill to get Thayer to utter a single word to them. Like most Regal boys, he was broad shouldered with rippling muscles that were obvious under any shirt and tall as hell. Who was I kidding, she'd rather break every bone than deal with her old tormenter again.
She walked over to Toby and I, glad to be with people she could actually tolerate. “U beso to gat allies!” I whispered, pinching her arm. She visibly cringed at the idea. “Mhe would rather pia in hutted.” she replied, turning to look at October. She quickly signed ‘Eula says I need to make friends.’ The taller boys tried to stifle his laughter before he signed ‘She’s right.’ Tauriel rolled her eyes before the two began to playfully bicker back and forth. I left them to their devices when I turned to notice Mara standing to the side waiting for Cecil to get his cuff off.
“Hey, Fox.” I said nudging the redhead’s shoulder. She quickly turned to face me, a smile quickly spread when she realized I wasn’t some other Regal. She whispered a quiet hello before turning to look at her boyfriend. It’s been a while since I’d seen Cecil but he grew up nice. He was now a little over six foot two, typical for Rogue males. “He asks about you two.” Mara stated seemingly out of the blue. I know she worried about him all the time, more so since he stopped coming over for exams. It was the same look in her eyes the night she called Tauriel and I to help him after a few guards thought it right to attack him. “You let him know it’s nothing for me to do an exam?” I asked as the freckled young man moved up in the line. Mara’s voice quivered as she nodded “Everyday. He doesn’t want to bother you, you being a doctor and all.” She smiled slightly when he waved our way. “He still working in the mines?” I asked. Mara scoffed, “Like he’d ever stop. Thick as he and his buddies are?” I couldn't help but laugh. Cecil definitely hadn’t changed. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the chimes rang throughout the city. Fuck!
“Tell him I say to give that shoulder a break every once in a while!” I say before I began running back to Tauriel and October. This wasn’t good. Tauriel looked ready to break something. Her fists were clenched so tight, I thought she'd pierce the skin. As quickly as I could, I signed to the two of them, ‘We need to leave. October, you’re staying at our house for tonight.’ Tauriel froze in place. I only sent her a sympathetic smile when October ran to grab his protector. Thayer had placed his hoodie over October as we all started to Tori and my building. We walked the back alleys and listened for the easy to identify marching of the guards.
I’m not surprised that Thayer is good at this. He was a hunter. Standing at nearly six six, he is both light on his feet and stealthy. I imagine his training was horrifying but I know for a fact that he learned his skills while he was in prison not when he got out. He had the same urgent distrust of his surroundings that Tauriel has whenever she leaves our house. What the fuck did they do to them?
Tauriel sneaks to the back of the building and then there’s silence. I held my breath as I waited for her. I smiled when I heard a whistle emit from around the corner. We were behind the building in a second as she held the window open. She turned to Thayer first, I know it was because he was the tallest and the window was a little more than seven feet above the ground. He went down feet first and let out a satisfied smirk when he landed. I sent October in next, only because I wanted him inside before any guards decided to check back here. I went next, grabbing onto the copper pole that hung above the window I quickly slid in. Thayer made sure to place me down on the concrete floor rather than actually let me jump. Tauriel came in and jumped from the window, closing it before the guards could see her.
We got inside just before eight. The second we entered upstairs from the basement, the alarms started blaring. They had placed a curfew after the Conclave. I can see Tauriel standing awkwardly by the door before she disappeared into the garage. October sent me a curious look and I was glad he didn’t hear what I assumed to be her shelf colliding with the ground or the string of Dyselian profanities. He didn’t need to witness that. Thayer seemed a little shocked at first but I guess he knew the feeling because he sent me a sorrowful half smile.
“Hey! Go lon out isei yella!” She reluctantly exited the garage with a kid bruise forming at her knuckles. She looked beyond pissed. “Mhe deid howa infolo! Mhe deid howa infolo it was a angaari!” She began pacing around. I sent a look to October who was all too quick to leave, practically dragging Thayer behind him as he headed upstairs. I could feel Tori’s blood boiling from here. “I knew they were up to something. I should’ve guessed there would be a trap too!” I said nothing. She was right about something weird going on. The Capitals never offered more money than necessary, they never offered grands and fundings to more than one person each. It’s fairly odd that three people won the grands and six won the funding.
We walked upstairs seeing Thayer and Toby looking for something to eat. Tauriel had walked into her room, closing the door behind her as I walked into the kitchen. October was stuffing his face with bread, not at all worried about anything today had to offer. Thayer on the other hand was standing against the wall, watching as his little brother consumed his food ravenously. I could see how hungry he was too. I tossed him a loaf of his own, standing next to him as we watched the near twenty year old fill himself while sitting on the floor. “You take great care of him.” I said quietly. Most people thought that Rogues like Thayer, tough guys who got into fights, were barbaric animals. They get told that they’re animals so much that they believe it so much.
He looked me in the eye before quickly averting his gaze to the floor. He shrugged off my compliment like it was nothing, but the itching of his lip and the dimple in his cheek let me know that he appreciated it. We sat in silence for a minute before I blurted out “Can I ask you something?” To which he laughed in response. He rolled his shoulders back and relaxed a bit. “Go ahead but I might not answer.” ‘Cheeky bastard’ I thought, rolling my eyes at him “It’s about Tauriel.” He got serious rather quickly at the mention of her name, standing up and staring at me in concern. “Sure, what’s up?” His voice dropped a bit.
“What was she like? In prison?” It hurt me to ask but I might learn something. I pretended not to notice the disappointment and guilt in his eyes even though his long hair had fallen in his eyes.He scratched the back of his neck before clearing his throat. “She was noticeable.” He smiled to himself. “When she got there, a bunch of guys sought her out as a punching bag. They learned pretty quick not to mess with her.” his voice carried such pride as he spoke it was kinda heartwarming. I knew this story. Some prick came in ready to throw punches on anyone in there, he immediately thought Tauriel would make a good target. Thayer got in the way just in time. It’s why he started calling her Jailbait. Easy pickings for a prison brawl. “She was so fucking smart! So much smarter than the guards there. Smart ass got into her fair share of trouble. They threw her in the pit the first night!” That explained a lot. “She came back with a tattoo, we all did.” He mumbled, pulling down the neckline of his shirt to reveal his collarbone. Liberties lined his skin from his collarbone to his right shoulder. “What does “people are poison” mean?” I asked suddenly. He seemed caught off guard. “It means that most people will try to kill you before they actually help you.” He must’ve noticed my furrowed brow because he immediately nudged me with his shoulder “Don’t worry. It’s about Capitals.”
I scoffed. “You definitely sound like Tauriel. She always worries. Thinks they’re monsters that suck the world around them dry.” He laughed at the idea. “You think they’re evil too?” I asked. He shook his head. “I think they know not to poison the water they need to drink.” He says picking up October, who had fallen asleep on my kitchen floor with a half eaten bread roll in his hand. “You boys take my and Tauriel’s beds. We got a couch in the garage.” Thayer shot me a look of refusal. “Like you AND October can fit on the thing, go!” I shooed him away with a humoured grin plastered on my face. He put October in my room, I had a sneaking suspicion he would. “Any particular reason why you opted to take the room of a young girl, Mr. Michaels?” I heard him scoff. He looked up at me with a grin. “She fashioned her room like I did mine.” He responded. I shot him a curious look before it hit me. It looked and felt like a prison cell. That’s why it was always so cold.
I stood silently in the doorway of the garage. Tauriel, currently sitting on the floor fixing her busted shelf with her braid in a sort of bun, paid no mind to my existence as she worked. “You can come in here.” She mumbled under her breath before filling the shelf so it stood at its proper height. I sat on my bench, filled with some of my tools as Tauriel sat in hers. She was tinkering away at something.
When she was arrested, I became her only family left. I would call her everyday and visit her every chance I got, but these walls became so quiet when she went away. I would go to school, earn some quick cash from dumb kids then big bucks from dumb adults. I called her and taught her lessons over the phone and she’d be happy. When I’d go visit her, she’d keep her head down and speak slowly. There were times I’d wonder if she’d make it, but as time went on she became the queen. When she was finally let out, due to the ‘Liberty Act’ all occupants twenty one and lower got released at that point she was seventeen and only a fraction of the eleven year old I saw arrested over a decade ago for no real reason.
She came out with a tattoo, two Liberties on her waist and a new habit of looking over her shoulder at every turn. On her twenty first, when she was branded Bruise by the rule of the Capitals I noticed the scars on her back for the first time. She was wearing her hair up, similar to how it was styled right now, and her top tied around her neck leaving her upper back open. She said she wanted to see the rain so we figured out a way to do it. That year, she spent over a hundred days teaching me how to fix things. I guess when you have a tendency to break things you learn how to fix them.
“I saw Mara earlier. She and Cecil said hi.” I saw her break into a small smile. She adored the redhead, always finding humour in her quickly retorts and sarcastic remarks. “Tell them I say hi.” Tauriel went back to work in a much better mood. “You know…” I started watching Tauriel place an old pair of headphones over her ears. She nodded at me to continue. “With Cecil’s longer hair and dimples, he kinda looks like Thayer…” I held in my laughter when Tauriel’s face fell. She rolled her eyes dramatically before taking off the headphones. “Eula, sharp bone structure and long hair is kinda the norm. And don’t go ruining Cecil for me, he’s my friend.” She still laughed. It’s been years since I heard that sound.
I always loved the sound of Liberties in the morning. The sweet sound of their bird song that let me know I was still in the garage when I should’ve been sleeping hours ago. What did I care? I spent most of my nights on this very bench and often woke up with my head against the cool metal of my desk. I sit with my head in my hand for a minute or two before I actually stand. The boots I ditched last night were still on the floor by my feet, so I decided to leave them there and go eat. The fixed up headphones were around Tauriel’s neck, with a stray wire tickling the back of her head. “Need your room back?” He asked from behind me. I actually did but I wasn’t going to let him know that. I spared a glance in his direction, he almost filled the door frame. He was smirking at me. That devilish smirk, like I didn’t know that's not who he really was. “Is October awake, I need him for something.” I kept my voice cold as I spoke to the older man. He gave me that look, the same one he gave me in prison when he wasn’t overly trying to be a jerk or when he thought I wouldn’t notice. He gave me a quick smile before heading into my room for the sleeping twenty year old.
Toby came out rubbing his dark brown eyes. I pulled him into the kitchen as Thayer emerged. He smiled at his brother before pushing off the door post he was leaning on and going back into Tauriel’s room to get dressed. October kept looking around the kitchen for food as I placed a food bag in front of him. We went through the cupboards, grabbing things for the young man to take home. I knew it would be easier for me to stock my cupboards rather than Toby and Thayer to stock theirs. We were almost done wrapping the bread when the alarm blared throughout the city. “THAYER MICHAELS, REPORT TO THE HAULING STATION.” I nodded at October to continue, letting him know I’d be right back before quickly making my way to the hall where Tauriel was waiting outside the bathroom. When he came out of the bathroom, his hair was tousled and slightly damp. Tauriel wasted no time heading into the steam filled room, waving the soft white clouds from her face. “Sorry in advance. I used a lot of hot water.” He stated through the door to which Tauriel offered no reply. Whatever he did to get this reaction from her must’ve been bad. I saw a glint of that subtle irritation in his eyes, understanding too, but mostly just irritation. “Don’t worry, she likes to take cold showers.” He looked my way with a forced smile. I watched as he quickly put on his jacket and boots shooting me a questioning look. I chuckled knowing exactly what he planned to ask me. “I’ve got work in a couple hours, but Tori will watch him okay?”
He only stiffly nodded before opening the door and heading to the Hauling Station.
@jayloxoxo @thinkinghardhardlythinking @justagirlinafandomworld @mashedpotatowithcheese
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nakamotocore · a month ago
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tw : yandere, stalker, non-con, explicit content!!
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ICE AND WATER — Mark Lee
● this is my own little continuation from @jenoluck 's work 'till frozen heights- prompt being : the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you feel. the farther you are, the colder.
● requested by my good friend @greenish-taro. hope you enjoy my love! 💖
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"you can at least pretend to love me you know, its not my fault we're stuck with each other."
for the fifth time that night- you rolled your eyes at the incredulous man standing in front of you, fanning your face. beads of sweat rolled down his temples as he continues staring at your bored expression, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrorwed.
"here's the thing mort—"
"mark."
"mark. yeah, whatever." you waved your hands while dragging a cigarette from your lips despite the heat. the party was still going on a glorious swing- and it irks you that you had to raise your voice a little louder when you're already this warm.
"you have to know that i'm really fucking bad at acting." carelessly you shrugged as the unpleasant and musty stench of perfume and drugs wafted in the air, the lingering smoke from your ciggie colouring lines of delicate vapour to frame his face.
"and," you added, tapping the ashes off the little brown stick. "i literally feel no connection to your whatsoever, so i don't think we're actually really soul—"
"but you do realise you're sweating right? we're both so like, like—"
"hot?" you smirked at his desperate attempt at a protest, and scoffed lightly as his blushing expression. "we're not the only ones leaking salt, dummy. look around you." another drag of the cig was taken, and you snapped your finger.
"tons of humans bundled up in a room with no fucking ventilation whatsoever. its literally meant to preserve body heat, and not exactly ideal to meet your soulmate; unless your ideal first date is dying in a sauna." you grinned at his ashened features, and finally- he stuck his hands in his pockets, pouting. he must have admitted defeat.
you assumed his silence as another reason for a quick puff of victory, sending ecstasy to your head- the bitter taste of nicotine heightening your senses.
"those things are going to kill you." his face was sour but adamant, and for some reason you found that absolutely adorable.
"all part of my plan for a faster ticket to heaven."
impishly you grin as he shakes his head, loosening his tie and stuffing it in his back pocket. he seemed like the fashionable misfit amongst the patrons of the party- being the only person to don an office attire in a rambuctious festival full of neon lights, drugs and heavy perfume. silently, you bet to yourself he never skips church on a sunday.
"how did you find me?" you smile innocently, making sure your hands were crossed right over your chest so that your breasts appeared much bigger. a wonderful trick your roommate taught you, and by the look of his dazed features concentrated much below where your eyes were- you assumed her little tip worked fine.
"i, uh—" he was stumbling with his words, his tone an echo of a lost child. maybe its the outrageous amount of swimsuits or scanty bodywear everyone was wearing, and maybe he feels a little out of place.
with a playful smirk, you approached a much scandalized mark with your fingers floating on the buttons of his shirt, running down his own chest without abiding his protests.
"here, you'll fit in more now."
skillfully, the remaining six buttons came undone, and you pulled the offensive material off his skin. "if you're gonna want to stay here, you'll have to be half-naked." a little smile dances at the corner of your lips, and he seems more frightened than ever, poor lamb. "i'll repeat my question again now, markie—"
he raises an eyebrow at the nickname that rolled off your tongue, and once again the ciggie was dragged between your teeth- the taste of nicotine calming your pounding nerves.
"how did you find me?"
he swallows thickly and ran his hands at the nape of his neck, a sudden burst of bright red coloring his ears. "well," he begins. "i saw you on the street the other night, and i didn't want to do anything at first but—" he pauses and wipes the sweat matting his forehead, an uncomfortable expression crossing his features. "can we go outside? its way too hot in here."
the flickering butt of your ciggarette burns off, and you nodded- flicking the stick on the floor and flattening it with the tip of your heel. "come on then—" you grabbed his hand and navigated past the damp bodies, smiling at every grip mark made as he desperately tries to hold on to your building speed.
finally, after a few hefty minutes- the two of you were outside.
"so you saw me outside and stopped. then what?" you prompted as you attempt to light up the third cig for tonight- and failed to notice the cross of emotions that flashed across his face: the glare of anger, the clench of his jaw, and the glint in his eye which immediately hardens to a mask of utmost calm at the sound of your annoyed complaints.
"fucking hell, this lighter just won't flick!"
you ran your finger on it again and again, until your skin was burning and sore. "here, markie, help me would ya," you tossed the lighter and he catches it deftly in the air.
slowly, to your absolute horror— the gas in the lighter completely freezes over, and he drops it on the ground as it breaks to a million iced shards. your jaw fell open, and with a sickened gurgle in your stomach- you met his eyes.
"i could get you a new one." mark offers, shrugging as he grins.
like a deer, you bolted from where you were standing- leaping past the gates and straight into the woods behind the club. adredaline was a welcome rush, and you ran as fast as your legs could let you- hoping to heavens you'd see another soul to save your dammed life.
a murderer, he's a murderer!
you start weeping as you avoided each passing tree, helplessly looking for a streetlight, or any sign of human civilisation. behind you, a branch snaps- and you knew it was him. "LEAVE ME ALONE—" you screamed like a banshee before plunging yourself in the darkness, sobs heaving up your chest.
it was cold, so fucking cold with you dressed in your bralet and shorts- barely knowing how to escape from the worst kind of killer you've managed to tangle yourself into. what sort of sin have you commited to receive this kind of atonement?
crying softly with your hand over your mouth, you stumbled in the inky surroundings- shrouded in the gloom, trying your best to control the gasps rising from your throat.
"i see you, my love."
something pricks your skin sooner than the shock of hearing his serene voice, and you fall knee-first on the harsh forest floor. the last thing you could see was the grinning face of a maniac, his lips already touching your cheek as he murmers softly for you to go to sleep.
you woke up, shackled to a bar in a dingy, grey room. the wallpaper was crumbling, the stench was unimaginable, and a distant squeak of rats echoed in the corner. it was dark- yet your eyes took its time to adjust. slowly, you made out a figure flinching not far from where you were- their eyes dim with a broken spirit, clothed with what looked like tatters stained in a rotting, copperish maroon.
the door swung open, and mark walks in- light flooding the room with a yellow, calm glow. you bite your lip to prevent your vision from blurring, and made out a man— hunched and bent over, a plastic bowl sitting right next to him. mark bends down right next to you, smiling at your little flinch.
little did you know how much he was aching to restrain himself from you- his pride, his joy. how much he yearned for this moment, and he couldn't believe it : you're finally where you belong.
"feeling cold, darling?"
your first instinct was to shake your head, because that was how you'd feel on a daily basis, 24/7. however, your eyes widened when you ominously realised that actually, for the first time ever- you felt warm. all by yourself.
no clubs that helped induced this, no cigarettes smoked. there was a tepid, steady rush flowing in your veins, an absolutely delightful and enjoyable feeling if it wasn't for him staring so eagerly beside you.
"well?" he raised an eyebrow. you shook your head.
no.
"fuck—" he grinned like he won the lottery, burrying his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair as if he refuses to believe it. there was a happiness to him that you couldn't quite fathom— when slowly, it hits you.
the man chained up in the corner, oh god— he was your soulmate. your mouth gaped wide open as mark started giggling, clapping his hands as if he was applauding your newfound accomplishment. "meet johnny suh—" he points with his forefinger, trembling giddily with excitement. "johnny meet y/n, your one and only soulmate."
he leans in to kiss your cheek, ignoring your yelps as his ice-cold hands trace your features, insistent of moving his lips to meet yours. "mark, please—" you beg, the chill of his skin feeling like a sting of frostbite, and he groans at your whines.
"you don't know how much i suffered, y/n- after killing my whore of a soulmate." he spits at your crying expression, cupping your face so, very gently. "i'm always freezing, this numbing cold— it follows me everywhere." he sounded bitter, angry- and was already clinging himself on to you, latching his tongue- savouring every bare part of your warm complexion.
"your own lover, sitting right there?" he nods off to the man, and chuckled while shaking his head. "you only have him to blame for this mess." tears started trickling down his cheeks, and shakily he wipes then away before letting them drop on your exposed skin.
"you know what he did? he tried stealing my soulmate, when clearly he already had you— and for good measure, decided to leave me in a ditch." you were shivering from the frigid chill his body was emitting, hands weakly shuddering as you try and desperately push him away.
"he didn't think i'd come crawling out and tracking him down. half-dead i was, now half-dead he is." mark laughs softly, pulling himself away from you.
"okay— johnny boy!" he smiles as he approaches him, and the man weakly looks up.
mark slams his fist on him with all his strength, sending fear straight in your heart— and silently you started praying to a god, any god, so that mark might let your soulmate live. you couldn't afford to be as cold as that monster was, and johnny may as well be your only shot at escaping.
perhaps a god did hear your prayers, but unfortunately fate had already twisted her loom. mark bends down to whisper in an half-unconscious johnny's ear, blood rushing straight below him when he murmers his words slowly, carefully.
"every morning you'll be with her," he says with a soft tone- heedful to not let you hear. "you'll keep her warm and in your company as long as the sun is up." he grins.
"and with her body heat, every night—" he pats the man's cheek playfully, the cold touch of his skin sending shock to johnny's heart, causing him to force his eyes wide open.
"—you best believe you'd be getting the finest view in the house!"
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©️  NAKAMOTOCORE . ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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A/N : hello! just a lil reminder that i'd really like some feedback on the drabble, be it in the tags if you wish to reblog or in the comment section. thank you for reading, have a wonderful day!
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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · a month ago
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Imdên
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Part 32 of ‘A Deep Misunderstanding’.  Link to Series Masterlist.
Note:  If you wish to be tagged for certain stories, just let me know and I can add you to a tag list!
Tags:
@kumqu4t​​ @pixierox101​​ @elvish-sky​​ @ladylouoflothlorien​ @vicmackeybullshxt @lothloriien​ @shadowhuntyi @hellonogblogstuff​​
MASTERLIST
OC(s) Used: Estel & Artanis
Word Count:  1,927
Warning(s): Language
Translation(s): Imdên: Entering
Bannôê:  My treasure 
Yasthûna: Wife
~~~~
Thorin shifted beside me on our bed of straw, his arm tightening unconsciously around me.  I let out a long breath, opening my sleep-blurred eyes to look around at my enormous surroundings.  Clustered around in different places, the rest of the Company slept noisily.  
"Good morning, Amrâlimê."  Thorin mumbled in a sleepy drawl, catching my attention.  Propping myself up on my elbow, I looked down at the darkly bearded face that was lit with a tired smile.  "I trust you slept well?"
I rolled onto my back and stretched luxuriously, "aye, Thorin.  'Tis amazing how beneficial it can be to sleep in an actual building."  I murmured, stretching my arms up above my head.
Thorin laughed softly and leaned over to plant a kiss on my unsuspecting lips.  "You have a point, Bannôê."  He muttered, grinning down at me as he pulled back.  
Just then, my stomach growled hungrily, and Thorin chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling mirthfully at me.  "And I believe your stomach does as well?"
Pink dusted my cheeks as I hurried to sit up.  "Well, I haven't eaten for about a day, so I do believe some food would be in order.  Shall we see what we can scavenge in this oversized house?"  I asked, and Thorin nodded.
"Aye, I myself am a bit hungry.  After you, yasthûna."  He motioned, rising to his feet and following after me as I wandered quietly into the massive pantry of the skin-changer, passing by Gandalf as we did so.  The wizard only watched us with a gaze that seemed to sparkle mischievously, but I brushed aside that thought.  Instead, I focused on the contents of the pantry.  To my delight, (and slight disappointment), the shelves were lined with jars and jars of honey.
Turning to look at Thorin, I shrugged my shoulders.  "I believe our choices are a bit limited to honey, Thorin.  Not that I mind..."  I grinned and tried to grab one of the jars.  But I was disappointed to find that it was too heavy for me to lift.  "Nevermind, I have changed my mind.  I do mind."
Thorin just shot me a sly look and brushed past me, flexing his muscles.  I rolled my eyes at the unnecessary display.  Then I stifled a snicker as Thorin attempted--and failed--to lift the jar.
"I believe some honey has leaked from the jar and dried on the bottom, so it is stuck to the shelf."  He said breathlessly as he stepped back from the shelf.  
Yeah right.
"Uh huh."  I replied with a knowing look.  "Maybe there is food somewhere else."  I suggested, walking back out of the pantry.  
As I did so, I found myself looking up at the massive figure of an auburn-haired....person clothed in a ragged wool tunic and leather britches.  They had their back turned towards Thorin and I as they scanned the scattered Dwarves slumbering amongst the animals.  Glancing over at Gandalf, I was surprised to see him unconcernedly watching the figure.
Why the bloody hell wasn't he concerned about the lives of our quest-mates?
Thorin took the hint that something was wrong when I froze, and quickly walked to stand protectively in front of me.  We silently watched the gigantic figure as they turned and revealed their feminine features to our eyes.  
Brown eyes swept over the room and landed on us; widening in alarm.  The woman--if you could call the tall female that--shifted the babe they balanced on their hip, watching us with fear and desperation growing in her dark eyes.
"Who are you?  What are you doing here?"  She hissed; voice carrying the hint of an unfamiliar accent.  
"I could ask the same of you."  Gandalf responded calmly before Thorin could open his mouth.  The woman swallowed nervously, her gaze darting between each of us.  "But, I'm sure it would do no harm to properly introduce ourselves.  I am Gandalf and these are my companions."  Gandalf gestured towards Thorin, who tensed slightly as he watched the tall female cautiously.
"I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, and this--" he nodded to me, "is my wife Estel."  
The female stared at Thorin and I with a piercing gaze, her brow furrowing.  "You are Dwarves...  What brings you to these lands?"  She asked in a low voice, and Thorin shot her a heavy look.
"Answer the questions we asked of you first.  Who are you and what are you doing here?"  He asked in a deep rumble, clenching his fists at his sides.
The female's gaze flickered to his clenched hands, and a dangerous glint entered her brown irises.  From the depths of my memory, I remembered a piece of advice that was drilled into all young elves at an early age.
Never, under any circumstances, threaten a female that has young.  They will do anything to protect the lives of their offspring.
"Thorin, relax."  I whispered, laying my hand on his tense shoulder.  He took a trembling breath, slowly uncurling his hands, but the glint did not disappear from the female's eyes.  Protectively holding the baby closer to her side, she placed a hand on the back of its black-haired head, raising her head haughtily to look down at us.
"I am Artanis, mate of Beorn and mother of his child.  This is our home, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain."  She said quietly, a hint of pride in her voice as she spoke.  
Moving out from behind Thorin so that I stood by his side, I looked curiously up at Artanis and her child.  The babe stared back with wide grey eyes as it nuzzled up against Artanis' womanly curves.  
"Your child, what is their name?"  I asked softly, watching as Artanis' gaze gentled at the mention of her child.  She glanced down at the small creature that clung to her woolen garment.
"His name is Brôg," she murmured, ducking her head down to nuzzle the black hair covering her son's head.
Brôg...  That was Síndarin.
Looking at the red-haired woman with a curious eye, I studied her more closely.  "Bear.  You named him Bear?"  I asked, and Artanis raised her head to look at me with a furrowed brow.
"You know the Elvish language?  How can that be?"  She asked suspiciously, and I smiled weakly.
"I was raised in the forests of Lothlorien."  I offered, and Artanis nodded contemplatively.  
"Unusual.  Perhaps my mate will tolerate you because of your ties to the Elves.  He is not overly fond of Dwarves, Beorn."  Artanis laughed lightly, apparently finding the topic amusing.  "But he is not that dangerous."
Gandalf scoffed beside Thorin, and I looked over at him with a raised eyebrow.  Something told me that he didn't seem to think the same.  
"Speaking of Beorn..."  Artanis looked around the house, her brown irises searching each corner.  "Where is my mate?"  She swung her head back to look at us; body tensing.
Before any of us could offer her an answer, the sound of an axe splitting wood echoed from outside, and Artanis visibly relaxed.  
The noise of the axe also woke up the rest of our Company, and they began to emerge from their blankets with loud yawns, only to freeze up when they caught sight of Artanis standing by the doorway to the stables.
I smothered a laugh at the Company's terrified expressions as they stared up at the red-haired woman.  It took them a moment, but once Fili caught sight of Thorin and I standing calmly by Artanis, he walked cautiously past her towards us.  Kili followed close behind his brother; the rest of the Company following their lead.
Thorin and I watched them with tongues in cheek, trying not to show our amusement over the Dwarrows--particularly Dwalin--creeping around Artanis like she was a horrific beast.
Although perhaps they were rightly a bit afraid.  From what I had seen, Artanis was unpredictable.
Gandalf stood up, navigating the crowd of Dwarves to stand by what looked to be the back door of the house.  "This will call for some delicacy, as the last person to startle Beorn was torn to pieces."  Thorin shared a look with Kili over the Hobbit's shoulders, stirring up curiosity within me.  While Kili was a bit reckless, surely he wouldn't be THAT stupid...  
"Bilbo will come with me."  Gandalf continued, and Bilbo, the last to emerge from the straw piles, blinked in surprise, looking around.  Thorin motioned for him to follow Gandalf with a nod of his head, and the Hobbit reluctantly followed the wizard out of the door.  But then Gandalf stopped and looked back.  "Wait for my signal and come out in pairs.  Walk slowly and do not startle him."
We all nodded, and Gandalf disappeared out the door into the glaring sunlight, Bilbo plodding along behind him.  
Bofur climbed up onto the sill to peer out of the window, and the rest of the Dwarves waited anxiously.
I turned my gaze to Artanis, eyeing her with the fear that this many Dwarves in her home and around her child would set her off in some way.  I was not disappointed, as my gaze found her watching all the Dwarves carefully as she at the same time tried to keep an eye on the brawny man standing outside.
Thorin laid a hand on the small of my back, and I turned my gaze to him, noting the lines of concern on his face.  But before I could say anything, Bofur piped up from the window.
"There's the signal!  Come on!"  He called, and Dwalin and Balin hurried to walk out the door.  
Artanis watched their departure with a close eye and moved closer to the door so she could see Beorn's reaction.
At the appearance of the two Dwarrows, Beorn's head snapped around to look at them, the light glinting ominously off his massive axe as he gripped it in a defensive hold; lips curling back to reveal pointed incisors.  
"Beorn!"  Artanis ran out of the door, straight towards the tall man, her long red hair flowing through the air as she darted across the grass.
"Artanis."  He rumbled, his voice carrying the same strange accent as his mate.  "Are you alright?  Did the Dwarves harm you?"  
I couldn't hear the whispered exchange that occurred between the two skin-changers after that last sentence, but I could see even from a distance, the tenseness fading from Beorn's muscled frame as he spoke with his mate and gazed down at his child.
Slowly--or perhaps I should say too quickly--the rest of the Company trooped out of Beorn's house to stand in a disorganized line.  Thorin and I were the last to exit the door, and per usual, Thorin had to make his usual dramatic entrance.
"Are there anymore?"  Beorn asked in a low rasp, and Thorin took that as his cue to step slowly into view, the light breeze blowing back his dark brown hair into my face as I stood behind him.  
Spluttering silently, I recoiled back, batting away the strands of hair that tried to make their way into my mouth.
Just as I succeeded in that attempt, Thorin reached back to grab my arm and pull me into view of Beorn.
The skin-changer's eyes widened as he straightened up; taking in the sight of both Thorin and I.  There was a strange sort of recognition in his eyes as he took us both in, making me shuffle nervously on my feet.  
"Thorin Oakenshield..."  
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Crumbled Kingdom
Based on this request:  Oooh, how about Labyrinth where the reader comes to the crumbled Labyrinth after Sarah rejected Jarath and reader helps his broken heart? I just need a little flangst, if that’s okay.
Here you are! *Familiar Characters are NOT mine!*
Fandom: Labyrinth
Warnings: Angst with a semi-happy ending, a little bit of tension.
Pairings/Characters: Jareth x reader, Hoggle
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"I wish the Goblin King would come and take us away right now," you whispered. You felt slightly foolish saying the words from the book you'd grown up reading and had been reading to your young sibling when things got bad at home. While you were technically old enough to move out on your own, you couldn't leave your sibling alone. That night was particularly bad, prompting you to utter the words that part of you hoped would send you away where those people who neglected you would never find you.
         Your hopes were answered when you woke up to a slight crying of your name. You opened your eyes to find your sibling looking down at you with wide, teary eyes. You were immediately on alert, shooting up to make sure they were okay. You looked around in surprise. "What the-" you began but stopped yourself. Little ears hear everything after all.
         "I'm scared, Y/N." You hugged your sibling close and attempted to smile. You didn't want to frighten them more. You let yourself take in your surroundings. Something looked familiar and yet, not. Everything around you was in a state of ruin and chaos. Crumbled and moss covered stone stood alongside dead hedges like those that lined the walls of a maze. You knew you'd heard about a place like this before but it wasn't until you heard the trickling of water that you made any sort of connection.
         You followed the sound of the water, holding your sibling close to you. It didn't take long before you stumbled upon a broken and algae-ridden fountain. But that wasn't what caught your attention. It was the creature that stood around the same height as your sibling. "Excuse me?" The creature jumped and turned to you.
         "Oh, excuse me." You cocked your head to the side, your memory trying so hard to catch up with what you were seeing. "Who are you? C-Can you show us the way out?" The creature looked between you in confusion. "Two? There's never two. Name's Hoggle."
         "Hoggle? Like from the book?" your sibling piped up. You glanced down at them and then back at Hoggle. "No fuc-freaking way. There's no way. It's just a story." Hoggle chuckled humorlessly. "A story. Tell that to the Goblin King. Ever since…since her, thing's been different."
         "Her? Sar-" Hoggle shushed you. "Don't say her name. Jareth's magic may have lessened but he sends the Cleaners if anyone mentions her name. Broken, he is." You exchanged a glance with your sibling. You remembered your mother's stories about her "crazy" friend Sarah who told her all about the Labyrinth.  Without a word, you knew that you and your sibling agreed that it was time to get out of there. You wouldn't go home, but you couldn't stay here. "How do we get out?"
         "Same way as always. You have to beat the Labyrinth. Thirteen hours. But the Labyrinth is even more unpredictable than before." You nodded and sighed. "I know, but I have to try. I have to protect them," you said, gesturing to your sibling. Hoggle let out a groan and showed you the entrance to the Labyrinth. "Come on," you told your sibling, "And stay close to me."
*Several hours later*
         Hoggle was right. The Labyrinth had been more unpredictable, but thanks to reading the book so often as a child, you knew which landmarks to look for. You learned from the mistakes of the book's heroine. It wasn't easy by any means, but it wasn't as difficult as you were expecting, although you did nearly get stuck in the Bog of Stench. Not that you'd say that out loud. While you hadn't seen hide or hair of the Goblin King, you didn't want to risk his wrath after what had happened with Sarah. Clearly it was bad if the kingdom was in such a state of ruin.
         To your surprise, the drawbridge of the castle was lowered when you finally approached. You were exhausted and your legs felt like they were going to give out. The only reason you kept going was for your sibling. "We're almost there. Do you think we made it?" You have them a smile. "I hope so. Come on. We have to get through the castle. We have to see the Goblin King." Your sibling looked more scared than they had since the moment you woke up in the Labyrinth. You hugged them close. "It'll be alright. I'll protect you."
         Your footsteps echoed on the stone floor of the crumbling castle. The sound was a mixture of ominous and comforting. It grounded you since you had absolutely no idea what to expect from the king when you finally encountered him. At the same time, the sound sent a shudder down your spine. It was far too quiet for such a large castle.
         It took you a while and several mistakenly opened doors to find what you were looking for. The throne room. You pushed open the doors, expecting to be greeted by goblins or guards or traps. Instead, you came face-to-face with an almost empty room. The only person in the room was lounging across the odd throne. He didn't even look up at your entrance.
         "It's him," your sibling whispered, "It's Jareth." You nodded, but kept your eyes on the Goblin King. You took a step closer, but froze when Jareth finally spoke. "Stop. Don't move." His voice sent shivers down your spine. He looked to you, swinging his legs off the arm of his throne and standing much more gracefully than you expected. "You've beaten the Labyrinth." You nodded. "Yes. We'd like to leave now."
         "Then you know what you should say. Say it! Bring the rest of my kingdom crumbling to nothing! Just like her!" You jumped a little. "Y/N, I'm scared." That caused you to straighten yourself up and glare at the Goblin King. "This wasn't Sarah's doing," you stated, "This was all you. What kind of king are you?! It's a king's duty to care for his kingdom and his people! So what? Sarah left and you let all this happen! She was fifteen! A child! You're not a king. You're a spineless coward! A little kid playing at being a king."
         Jareth's face twisted into a mask a pure rage before he schooled his features again. Before you could even react, he was in your face. You fought against your instinct to run away. For some reason, you didn't think he would actually hurt you. His nose touched yours and he hiss, "You know nothing."
         "I know she hurt you. I get that. But you hurt your kingdom. Your people," you whispered to him. You knew about pain. You knew how it could cut you so deeply it seemed like you would never recover. It softened your heart toward him a bit. Your sibling called your name, prompting both you and Jareth to look at them. They were now surrounded by curious looking creatures. The goblins, you assumed. They were examining your sibling as if he had been hundreds of years since they last saw a human. Since you had no idea how time passed in the Labyrinth, it's possible it had been. They reminded you of children that needed care and love.
         "Look at them, Jareth. They need you. They need their king. I think that's why they brought me, an adult, here instead of just (Y/S/N). They wanted to help you so that you can help them." Jareth scoffed, but didn't look away from the goblins. "You cannot help." You smiled a bit. "Maybe I can. If you let me. What harm could it do? Let me help you, Jareth. I swear I won't leave until I've at least tried."
         Jareth backed away slowly, his eyes turning back to you. "Do not make promises you cannot keep. The magic of the Labyrinth will hold you until your promise his fulfilled or until you fade away." You met his gaze. There was a storm brewing in his eyes. You could feel the gazes of the goblins on the two of you as Jareth sized you up.
         "I swear it," you repeated. Jareth continued staring at you, the tension in the room thickening. You heard giggles from all around you, but you ignored them. You were on edge as you waited for Jareth to say anything. "Do you really think you're strong enough for this?" You snorted out a laugh. "I think the better question is are you prepared to handle me? I've been told I'm quite the handful."
         "Well you are!" your sibling interrupted with a laugh. The small goblins joined in the laughter. You rolled your eyes before turning back to Jareth. "Well?" Jareth took another step back and gave a small nod of his head. The next thing you knew, someone grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the growing throng of goblins. You couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm and your sibling seemed to be enjoying themselves.
         As you were being passed between the goblins, you missed the miniscule smile that made its way to Jareth's lips. You didn't know it, but a small spark of hope ignited in his chest and he could feel the Labyrinth's magic seeping back out toward the kingdom. Maybe you were the key to rebuilding his crumbled king and, perhaps eventually, healing his heart.
(a/n: I hope you like it!)
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goodgirlofglory · 2 months ago
Text
That which lingered on his mind / Chapter 1
Prologue - Chapter 2
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader
Word count: 4,7k
Warnings: 18+, Non-con, dub-con, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, Graphic descriptions of violence, bondage (bound wrists), oral (f receiving), asphyxiation (choking), Cumplay, Some graphic descriptions of blood.
Chapter summary: Steve Rogers, Captain America and your former neighbor, used to harbour some secret feelings for you before he was turned into a Hydra asset. Now he’s come back to claim what he cannot rid himself of: his desire for you.
Author’s note: This one came to me a dark January night and hasn’t let me go since. This series will be about 7-8 chapters, so stay tuned! Not beta-read, so all mistakes are mine. My work is not to be distributed anywhere but my blog. Reblogs are welcome, though. And I so appreciate reading your replies and tags<3 hope you enjoy ;)
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It started out as any other night. You had a cup of tea and scrolled through your phone for a while before a violent yawn told you it was time for bed. 
It was a normal night.
Until you stood face to face with Captain America. Or at least, who you thought was Captain America. America’s hero and your former neighbor. 
You had never really paid any attention to news about the Avengers or Mr. Rogers, and had never been one to socialize with neighbors. He lived across the hall from you and was quiet and polite, never drawing more attention to himself other than a smile and a curt greeting now and then.
That was until he disappeared off the grid about four months ago. It was all the news could talk about for a good three weeks. Gossip in the building also started flourishing. Where had he gone? What happened? Was he dead?
Apparently not, for there he stood, silent as the grave, inside your apartment, half shrouded in darkness, blocking your way to the bedroom. 
 You didn’t really know what his uniform used to look like either, but from what you could remember he used to have a star on his chest, and not the squid looking emblem he now bore. His face was also an unusual sight, jaw covered in a gruff beard, hair long and pushed back. But worse were the eyes; steely, cold and intent on you.
 Had it only been good ol’ Captain America standing uninvited in your home you would have been scared. But this. This chilled you to the bone.
 What the fuck was going on?
 Your body froze as you stared at the man, who made no effort to speak nor move. Finally you found your voice. 
“Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing in my apartment? Please leave before I call the police.”
You tried to sound tough, but your voice shook slightly at the last word. He must have picked up on that, for his otherwise dead eyes gained a slight glimmer. 
 “Please do. Their deaths will be on your shoulders.”
A small gasp caught in your throat. You were starting to become terrified. This was absolutely not the Captain America you had seen on the news nor the Steve Rogers you had greeted in the hallway. 
“Actually, don’t bother, you’ll never reach your phone,” he continued, sounding far too nonchalant for the ominous aura he was putting off.
Your eyes widened when you remembered leaving your phone on the living room table, all the way across the room behind you. 
What should you do? Run for it anyways? Scream for help? You opted for a seemingly less provoking approach.
“What do you want?” you asked, tears starting to involuntarily form at the corners of your eyes.
His eyes seemed to darken somehow, setting themselves on you with deadly weight, piercing your soul.
“You.”
Your fight reflex kicked in before you could think, and you lunged for the front door across the living room behind you.
But you barely got a few steps in before a thick arm snaked around your waist and janked you back to hit painfully against a hard, unrelenting body. You managed to shriek in fear before a second hand, big enough to cover both your mouth and nose slammed down on your face and muffled your cries, knocking your lips against your teeth. You tasted blood.
You kicked, hit and scratched at your assailant's body, but gained only a mocking snicker in response. His mouth came down to whisper in your ear, sending ice cold shivers down your spine.
“Please, keep fighting, it only makes this more enjoyable.”
You sobbed into his coarse hand, tears springing free from your eyes, wetting the skin of his fingers. 
 He tsked
 “Cuing the waterworks. He wouldn’t like that,” he breathed into your ears and tightened his grip on your face, effectively cutting off your air supply. You squirmed against his arms in panic, new tears falling, not managing to move him even an inch. His grip remained as tight as iron. 
 As your vision blurred and you slipped into dark unconsciousness, you kept wondering what he meant by “he”.
 §
 You awoke groggily, feeling the muscles in your arms ache as they lay over your head. You usually woke up with your arms thrown over your head, so it took a few seconds to remember what had happened.
When you did, your body surged upwards, but was promptly janked back against the bed. Looking up, you registered for the first time that both of your wrists were bound to the bedpost above your head, using the bondage ropes you had gotten as a joke a few years back. Looking down you saw that you were still fully clothed, with your oversized UNI t-shirt and cotton shorts.
 The knot looked intricate and a few janks told you it was secure as well. 
 Your breathing started to race as you understood you were stuck, and a cry ripped itself from your lungs at the realization. 
 “Ah-ah-ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a calm voice came from across the room.
“HELP,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, ignoring the man who sat in the chair in the corner. It felt good to defy him, if only for a split second. 
 He made no indication that your behaviour bothered him, his stare as even as ever. 
“I will kill anyone who enters this apartment,” he said calmly. “You don’t want to endanger any of your good neighbors' lives. That’s not who he perceived you to be. I, on the other hand, have no problem killing everyone in this building if it helps you understand what is happening here.”
 “And what the fuck is happening here exactly?” you snarled, still janking at the knot around your wrists, bound just a little too tightly.
He smirked at that.
“Feisty, just like I hoped. It’s more...fun if I can break you first,” he mused.
He got up from the chair and moved over to the bed. When he got close enough you kicked out at him, and you would have hit him right in the gut if he hadn’t caught your foot. Not that it would affect him, you bitterly thought after.
He looked almost amused before twisting your foot around until you shrieked in pain.
“Oh,” he cooed, “remember to be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone to come checking in on you, would we?”
He let go of your foot, and you recoiled in the pain that shot up through your body. A sob escaped your gritted teeth.
He snickered.
“Pathetic. But I do see the appeal.”
He leaned forward and grabbed your jaw in a harsh grip, making you look him in the eyes as he leaned in so close his breath brushed across your face. There was a slight hint of mint to it.
“What's happening here, sweetheart, is that I’m gonna get some things out of my system.”
His hand let go of your jaw and moved down to slightly encircle your throat, lingering like a taunting threat. Your throat constricted instinctively at the presence of his calloused hand. A smirk played at his lips as you squirmed under his light touch. 
“I’m going to fuck you, Y/N”.
 You thrashed at that, nausea setting in your stomach, your skin prickling as the words landed.  
 “No, no, no, please,” you started to mumble in your panicked state, janking  more desperately on the knot around your bound wrists.
 “Oh yes, and the more you fight, the worse it’ll be for you,” Steve smirked as he moved around the back of the bed and started to climb onto it, grabbing your kicking feet with ease, straddling your thighs.
Helpless to stop it, you watched as he took a fistful of your shirt in both his hands and ripped the fabric open, split down the middle, exposing your stomach and chest underneath. In the chilly night air your nipples hardened and goosebumps spread across your skin.
You saw the feral expression that grew behind his eyes. 
He only hummed in response to your desperate whine, before letting a hand flitter up your hip.
His fingers stroked lightly up your torso, following every dent and bump, and you shivered at how soft it was in contrast to his earlier brutality.
Your breath hitched in your throat and his gaze snapped up to meet yours.
“Does that feel good?” he asked in a low murmur, smugness shining in his eyes, mockery dripping from his voice.. 
You shut your mouth and bit the inside of your cheek, tears welling in your eyes, trying to quell the impulse to scream. 
You had no doubt in your mind that no one in your building could overpower the super soldier, and you were terrified he would keep his word. 
You couldn’t let anyone else die. 
 A painful tweak of a hardened nipple brought you back to the room, and you cried out.
“Don’t disappear now, I need you present for this,” he instructed in a patient voice, almost like you were a disobedient child. 
 He bent down then, and took a pebbled nipple into his mouth while his hands landed on either side of your head, caging you in.
The sensation of his hot and wet mouth in contrast to the cold air of the room sent sparks flying through your body and, more horrifyingly, down between your legs. You bit your tongue out of shame, and tried to squirm away from his wanton mouth. It took only a single hand of his on your chest to effectively pin you down as he continued his ministrations on your nipple, sucking, licking and teasing with his teeth.
He radiated warmth hovering over you like that, his hand a searing presence on your skin, no doubt feeling how hard your heart was beating against your ribcage.
His smell filled your nose, musky, with hints of smoked wood and cedar, and something familiar and sweet - your own perfume. Did he go into your bathroom? Did he use your perfume on himself?
His mouth moved up your chest and to your neck, and he was so close, so overwhelming.
You squirmed slightly at his approach, but noticed that in this position, pinned under his thighs like you were, the fabric of your panties caught on your core, dragging along the awakened skin, and to your horror you could feel the slick starting to gather there. You stifled a whimper, face burning with dread and newly bloomed shame. 
His beard scratched your throat as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply.
“There’s that smell,” he murmured with a throaty sigh, “that smell he couldn’t get out of his head”.
What was he on about? Who was “he”? 
Your mind raced with questions as his tongue started to lap at your throat, leaving open mouthed and sloppy kisses to your sensitive skin.
You closed your eyes and tried to resist, tried to fight your body’s reaction to his stimulation, but as his teeth nipped at a particularly sweet spot, your whole body shuddered involuntarily and a small gasp escaped your mouth. 
 His face snapped up from your neck, piercing blue eyes finding yours teary and terrified - and no doubt dilated.
He straightened after a second, and shimmied off from where he was still stradling your thighs. As soon as your legs were free, you started kicking out at him, rage and defiance surging, trying and failing to hit him in the chest as he effortlessly caught both your ankles and gathered them in one hand. 
He leaned forward, face smooth and emotionless, and landed an open handed slap across your face a second later.
Your head whipped to the side, and your breath left your body for a second as your head swam, a high pitched ringing filling your ears.
You gasped in shock, your whole body going stiff as pain spread from your cheek.
You had never been hit before, and especially not that hard. Tears sprang forth from your eyes as it dawned on you how utterly fucked you were. 
“Let that be a warning,” he said in a calm voice, seemingly not affected in the slightest by the violence he was so willingly dishing out.
The fight was out of you for now, and you could only breathe through the sharp pain that lingered on your face as he moved in between your thighs.
Sitting back on his haunches he started to remove the tactical suit on his torso, impatiently ripping at the fastenings as his eyes never left your face, red, swollen and wet from your tears. 
You averted your gaze, disgusted by him, disgusted by yourself, desperately trying not to reveal your body’s reaction to his.
When he was completely naked from the waist up, his hands turned to your sleeping shorts, removing them with deft haste and surprising softness before leaning back again, his touch leaving your body. 
Several seconds went by without any action, and your curiosity gained the better of you. Turning your eyes to him, you found him studying your body. His face was as blank as ever, but his eyes betrayed some sort of sentiment you hadn’t seen before.
“He used to dream about you,” he said after a while, seemingly more to himself. 
He bent forward once he realized you were watching him, caging you in again as he hovered over you, moving closer and closer.
Face still stinging from his slap, you didn’t dare move even a muscle as his lips found yours. It started slow, but soon he grew impatient, and his tongue invaded your mouth, hot, wet and dominating, moving languidly against your own. 
Breathless and reeling, a small whimper left your mouth, and the responding groan that emitted from his throat rumbled through you.
While still moving his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands reached down and you felt the distinct calloused warmth of his touch to the inside of your thigh. 
A small, panicked “no” croaked out of you, but he only swallowed it eagerly, not letting up his touch as it zeroed in on your core. 
You could feel his fingers touching the cotton covering you, and by the breathy laughter he huffed against your mouth, he no doubt felt how wet it was.
“Oh, doll, I don’t think you’ve been completely honest,” he mocked as he leaned back again and looked down at your ruined panties. 
You tried to hide your burning face in the nook of your elbow as he ripped your panties off before bunching them up in his hand and bringing them to his face. But his eyes caught yours in a steel grip as he inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a second before a pleased sigh left his lips.
You watched as his tongue swiped at the wet patch of the fabric before he put the panties in his pocket.
You thrashed at his obscene actions, nausea burning hot in the pit of your stomach, mixing with your undeniable arousal. 
What the fuck was wrong with you? 
As your mind raced against the reality of the situation, Steve laid down on the bed between your legs. His mouth attacked your pussy. 
A squeak escaped your mouth, hands janking at the knot around your wrists as he started devouring you, mouth moving between your clit and weeping wound with urgency, almost desperation. 
A full on groan left his mouth as he lapped at the juices that were steadily leaking from you. 
His hands found your breasts and started teasing your nipples, and you tried to squirm away.
You needed him to stop, you needed this assault on your senses to cease, because you could feel your resolve burning away as sweet, untainted pleasure started spreading through your body. 
Steve’s tongue swept up and swirled around your clit, and you tried inching away. One of his hands gave your breast a sharp slap before tweaking your nipple painfully again. Another warning. You headed it. 
“Does that feel good?” he asked, but in contrast to the last time it almost sounded like he cared.
You shook your head weakly. 
He chuckled against your mound and gave your breast another slap, sending jolts of pain through your chest. 
“Don’t lie,” he warned, but there was surprisingly little malice in his voice. “But nevermind. This pretty, swollen, soaked cunt tells me all I need to know,” he said almost fondly before giving your clit a few licks. 
“Give in, Y/N, I can feel how much you want to,” he taunted in between licks and all you could do was lay still and take it, new tears streaking from your eyes and wetting the hair at your temples as you squeezed them shut. 
He was right. You couldn’t deny the pleasure he was wringing from your body.
“I’m going to stay still now, and you move however you want,” he said then, before doing just that. 
Somehow, having him stop was more torture than what he had been doing, and your stubborn pride, your better judgement and the stinging feeling of violation that burned in your chest fought against your body’s sudden need for stimulation - for his stimulation. 
Something in you snapped, and you tentatively moved your hips so your clit could find his tongue, stretched out waiting for you. 
You shivered. 
It felt good. 
You rolled your hips again, more firmly this time, and the resulting swipe of his tongue against your sensitive bud of nerves had your breath leaving your body in a shaky exhale. 
His hands gave your breasts an encouraging squeeze, before resuming their attention on your nipples, and you moved your hips with more fervor. 
Before long you were grinding yourself on his mouth, breaths coming out in puffs as your eyes stayed shut, losing yourself in the hot feel of his tongue. 
Desperation grew as you could feel that distinct coil tighten in your abdomen, and every draw of breath fueled the build up. 
Not thinking anymore, you bucked your hips on him in repeated motion, lingering on the edge of the abyss, searching for that which would make the coil snap.
A desperate whimper left your mouth and as a response, a rumbling groan from his throat vibrated right through you and you fell head first into your orgasm, entire body shuddering violently as your mouth opened in a silent scream. 
He was on you as you came down, lapping up your release and groaning as you trembled at the overstimulation. He was frantically groping at your waist and hips, strong arms and hands grounding you as you floated on the aftershocks of your high.
The moment the orgasm faded from your foggy mind, it fell in on itself.
How could you let yourself give in like that? 
You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind trying to escape the whole thing, if only for a moment, go far far away, go numb, go blank. 
You weren’t allowed more than a few seconds reprieve, however, as you faintly heard him rustling around before you felt pressure at your entrance.
Before you had time to protest, Steve pushed his cock into you, giving a pleased huff as your body squeezed instinctively, drawing him in even more. 
Your eyes shot open and met his - wild and pleased.
“There she is,” he said with dark glee as he breathed hard. 
You fought to draw breath as your body seared with pain of the intrusion. His girth was more than you could take. It was all you could do to handle the stretch of his cock bottoming out, pushed inside you to the hilt.
“Feel that? Feel how your willing cunt is swallowing me like that, inviting me in?” 
He started to move a second later, not giving you any time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that sent sparks of pain up through your body.
You cried out at the agony, nails digging into your own palms. 
Above you, Steve growled as he bared his teeth at you, slamming his hips against yours. 
His cock was rock hard as it speared you, and he only seemed to grow harder at your pained cries. 
Through the pain and your strained whimpering sounds, you faintly heard him mumble.
“- all those incessant thoughts about you….never like this….if he only fucking knew...ripe for the taking, and the bastard didn’t as much as ask you out...”
His hand seized your throat as he stuffed his face into the crook of your neck again, inhaling fervently. Hitched breaths was the only thing that escaped you at this point, as he kept up his torturing pace, abusing your pussy without halt. 
“- That fucking smell in the hallway...never escaping it...fuck…gonna fuck those thoughts right out...”
 Was “he” Steve? Was he rambling about himself? Or at least, who he used to be?
The pain had slowly subsided as you’d listened to the man’s crazed rambling, and a deep onslaught of pleasure was starting to make itself known with each punch of Steve’s cock. Soon your body started to tremble, and you fought against the coil starting to build again. 
Steve shifted his hips to run his hands down your sides, and the new angle hit the spot deep within you that made your breathless.
Your mouth opened in a complete and utter moan, and Steve’s head snapped up from your neck, something akin to surprise in his eyes as he took in your face. 
“That’s the spot, isn’t it?” he asked, and his voice was thick with pleasure. 
You tried to avert your eyes, but his hand shot up and gripped your jaw, pulling your face so close that your breaths mingled. His stare locked yours in an iron grip. 
His thrusts slowed, and he rolled his hips, reaching deep, so deep inside you, and a pleasured sigh left your lips to fan across his lips as he found that spot again.  
“Look at you. Steve would never think of you like this - he respected you. Little did he know you were a cock hungry little masochist,” he husked, pupils deep pools of dark desire. Your cheeks burned as you clenched around him at his words.
He grunted, letting his eyes fall close for only a second, and you noticed how his long and beautiful eyelashes fanned across his cheek. 
“Let’s see how much you can enjoy this, huh?” he asked in an almost mocking tone as one of his hands reached down to where his body was rutting into yours, and his thumb found your clit. 
You cried out as he started an unrelenting circling of the sensitive bud, and he mouthed at your jaw as he hummed in response. 
In the back of your mind a small voice was telling you to fight, to gnaw and hit and thrash until he understood that you didn’t want this. Another voice was arguing that you would only be hurt further if you fought more. There was no getting away from his intent and no overpowering him.
A louder voice was whispering that it was okay to give in. Give in to the way he felt on your skin, the way he moved in you, the way he looked at you. Give in to the pleasure.
 Your orgasm washed over you like a warm wave, spasming through every muscle as they sung with exhilaration. A shuddering groan left your lips and your pussy pulsed around Steve’s cock. He growled as he crushed his lips to yours, and you opened yours willingly, moving your tongue against his in a wet and sloppy kiss. 
“Good,” he praised in a groan after breaking the kiss, and to your surprise, something akin to pride bloomed deep in your chest at his praise. 
You were completely lost in the pleasure now, in the drag of his cock against your trembling walls, his musky og smoky scent and those blue, lust-blown eyes piercing you. 
His pace quickened again, and you could tell by the way his muscles tensed that he was closing in on his own release.
“I can feel you fluttering, doll. Listen to the sounds this pretty pussy makes. Maybe I should keep you?” he mused darkly, a small wicked grin on his lips. 
For a moment terror flashed across your eyes. Keep you? In the back of your mind the pain of your still bound wrists alerted you of the implications of that notion. Your cheek was still burning hot from his earlier “warning”.
As if he read your mind, he sneered.
“Take what he never had. Continue to take what he never had. Make you mine, let you have my cock every time I want, keep this tight pussy on a leash”.
You heaved for breath as his thrusts grew frantic, and he raised himself to his haunches, hands a bruising grip on your hips as he looked down at you. 
Under the dim moonlight his muscles rippled, shining in a layer of sweat, his hair disheveled and falling into his face, and those eyes, forever shaking the bones in your body. 
Your name ghosted on his lips as his brows furrowed and your back arched as your third orgasm seized you by every muscle in your body, your head thrown back in a desperate, strangled whine.
 “Fucking shit,” he exclaimed through gritted teeth, and as your cunt pulsed around him, you drew his orgasm right out of his body. 
He gave a few stuttering thrusts before stilling, thrust to the hilt inside you. Through the blood coursing in your ears you heard his snarl as he emptied himself in you.
For a moment his face completely stilled, eyebrows raised, eyes fluttered shut, mouth slightly open. In that moment, you swore you recognised your former neighbor, Steve Rogers, Captain America in those features. 
But in a moment he was gone, and this Steve, whoever he was, was leaning forward to crush his mouth on yours. 
Still coming down from your high, you eagerly opened your mouth for him in a rather intimate kiss, one of his hands coming up to cup the side of your face. 
You almost sighed at the softness of it all when his teeth caught your bottom lip and bit hard enough to draw blood. You yelped in pain as the iron taste filled your mouth and he let you wrench your way out of the kiss, snickering as he leaned back up and licked some of your blood off his lips. His eyes were wicked  as he pulled himself out of you.
The emptiness he left behind was both a relief and a disappointment, even as your lip stung. You licked at the cut, wondering just what brand of danger had forced himself into your bed. 
“God, what a sight,” he murmured above you, fingers dipping down to spread your nether lips apart as his cum dribbled out of you. 
Embarrassment burned your face as he looked on, perverted astonishment painting his features. 
Two fingers swiped your slit, gathering both of your releases on them before bringing them up to your mouth.
When you did nothing but stare at him, he simply whispered “open”.
You obeyed, holding his gaze, and he pushed his fingers slowly into your mouth. The mix of the iron of your blood, the salt of his cum and the tangy taste of yourself made your face scrunch up, and he hummed low in his chest.
“Does that feel good?” he asked, face emotionless but for the shining sin of his eyes.
You couldn’t help yourself, you nodded.
The corners of his mouth twitched up at that, approval coating his features.
“Oh, I’m gonna keep you, alright,” he murmured, dragging his wet fingers down your torso.
As his fingers slowly caressed you, exhaustion drizzled over you, your vision blurred, and you fell into unconsciousness.
 §
 When you awoke, bright daylight was shining in through your window.
The soreness piercing your muscles was like nothing you had ever felt before, but the sleep had been even deeper, sitting like a pleasurable hum in your bones. 
You remembered immediately what had happened in the night and was relieved to find that your wrists were no longer bound. The bruises, purple and pink, would probably last for weeks. 
The ache deep in your core made your gut wrench in remembered dread, but somehow there was a feeling of anticipation there as well.
A quiet voice inside you whispered that you hoped he would stay true to his word, and come back. 
Author’s note: Christ. Sometimes I wonder if there’s a blood kink brewing inside me. 
Taglist:
@thedaughterofwandavision​ , @hellotvshowtrash​
If you want to be added to the taglist, leave a note on any of my fics or send me an ask<3 
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no-droids-on-sunday · 2 months ago
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Fireflies
Summary: Your own mind is your own worst enemy. Jack wants to help you through your depressive episode.
Pairing: Agent Whiskey x GN!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Rating/Warnings: Reader has depression/depressive thoughts. Reader wants to disappear (not quite suicidal thoughts, but it gets close. I want you all to be warned.) Reader is pushing people away, neglecting themselves through their episode. It’s a heavy one, and I wrote it when I was pretty deep - please let me know if I missed anything and take care of yourselves loves <3
A/N: This is extremely self-indulgent, and absolutely a self-insert. I wrote it to cope with a bad low, and I kinda like the way it turned out. I thought some of y’all might like it too. The memory of the train in my grandparent’s backyard is 100% true, and to this day I love the sound of a train.
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Your brain was at war with itself, only adding to the exhaustion that seeped into your very soul. Days seemed never ending and nights seemed even longer. Gravity felt stronger and even the things you used to enjoy felt like they were now weighing you down, pulling you closer and closer to the earth until you would just disappear. Maybe that's what you wanted - to disappear. To melt into the ground, or float away on the wind.
You knew you were pulling away. Pulling away from your friends, from work, from Jack. You just didn’t have the energy for any of it. Socializing, working, moving, taking care of yourself. If it wasn’t for Jack practically force feeding you, you probably wouldn’t have eaten in days. It didn’t matter if he brought you toast or made a beautiful meal. Nothing had taste anymore. It was bland, and the energy to chew was too much.
You tried to move to the guest room but he wouldn’t allow it. You were sure you stank, and that your lack of sleep was keeping him awake too. You didn’t want to be a bother, didn’t want him to have to look after you like you were an invalid. When he’d found you in the guest bed, he’d picked you up and carried you back to bed without a word.
You didn’t deserve him. You knew that early on in the relationship and you knew it even more now. He could charm anyone, could have anyone he wanted you were sure. Somehow he’d gotten stuck with you. Stuck taking care of you. You knew what happened to his first wife, and you would have gladly taken her place if it meant he could have her now.
You didn’t want to die. Not really. It just hurt so much to be. If there was a way to not be for a little while, so you could finally rest and rid yourself of this existential exhaustion, you’d probably feel better. You didn’t want to stop living - just pause it. And feeling so ungrateful for the wonderful life you knew you had, made you wish you could have switched places with someone who wouldn’t be taking it for granted. Not the house, or the health, or the friends and family you had.
You were so guilty. You hated yourself for feeling this way. Knowing that you had no real reason to be like this made it worse. Jack was the one who had been through so much. If anything, he should be the one deep in depression as you tried to show him there was still so much good in the world. Instead, it was left to him to prove it to you. It made you cry. Not loudly. You couldn’t have Jack hear your sobs, rushing to your side, asking what was wrong. You cried silently. Not moving, barely breathing. Tears rolling down your face in the dark as he laid beside you.
He deserved so much more than you, and you knew it, but you didn’t have the energy to leave. You didn’t have the energy for anything.
Jack hadn’t come home from work that night. The war in your head grew louder.
What if he left you? It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? You wanted him to leave you and your pathetic issues behind so he could have a more fulfilling life. He could move on, find someone to be happy with - maybe he already had. Maybe that’s where he was now, instead of in your home.
But if that’s what you had wanted, why did it hurt so much? Why did the silence in the house feel more ominous than before? You felt so small in the big bed, in the big house, in the big world. Surely, no one would notice you disappear. You buried your head under the blankets, hoping that if you made yourself small enough, you’d shrink until you were just gone.
Someone shook your shoulder, waking you from a dreamless sleep. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep.
“Hey darlin’,” Jack greeted, his voice low and sweet like honey. Your heart stuttered when you realized he was here. He hadn’t left you after all. “I need ya to wake up for me.”
You opened your eyes, but the room was dark. You could only make out the silhouette of Jack against the light coming in through the open door. The light was dim - the hallway light wasn’t on, but the living room light must be. The blackout curtains that had stayed closed for days couldn’t give you any hint of what time it was. Had you slept all night, or was it only evening?
“C’mon.” Jack prompted, trying to get you to sit up.
“What’s going on?” Your voice cracked from disuse. You rolled over, Jack taking that to mean you were trying to sit up. He took your hands in his, gently pulling you to sitting.
“It’s a surprise. Just wrap your arms around my neck.” He instructed, one arm resting behind your back as the other scooped up your legs at the knees. He waited patiently for you to grab on before he lifted you from the bed, still wrapped in your blanket.
“Where are you taking me?” Your voice shook. Was he getting rid of you? Was he literally carrying you out of the house to dump you on your ass outside? You deserved it…
“We’re going on an adventure.” He must have heard the fear in your voice as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
“I don’t want to go anywhere, Jack,” you whined, burying your head in his shoulder. You didn’t want to leave the bed, let alone go outside. You were sure you looked absolutely awful. Sweat and oil and tears, hair matted every which way-
He stopped walking and nuzzled his nose against you. If his arms weren’t full of you, he’d probably be lifting your chin to make you look him in the eyes. “Do you trust me, June Bug?” He asked, adding in his favorite pet name for you.
You took a deep, shaky breath. Of course you did. God, you didn’t want him to think that you didn’t. You reluctantly nodded.
His steps continued, out the front door that he had left open. He paused and asked you to close it behind the two of you, which you did. It was dark out. Not quite pitch black yet. The streetlights had come on, but the sky still held a midnight shade of blue as the sun dipped further below the horizon. That helped answer your question about what time it was. It was late evening.
Jack carried you to the Bronco, which was still running from whenever he’d left it to come collect you. He had you open the passenger door before setting you in the seat. It was cool in the Bronco, the A/C having been running while he was gone. It made you shiver and burrow deeper into the blanket. Jack chuckled, leaning across you to buckle your seat-belt. He kissed your cheek before closing the door and jogging around the front of the truck to hop in on his side. He started driving before he asked you if it was too cold.
“No,” you shook your head. “It’s nice.” It was a little chilly, especially against your flushed, sweat damp skin from falling asleep with your head tucked under the blanket, but buried it was the perfect temperature to snuggle into your blanket.
“Good.” Jack hummed, resting a hand against your leg as he focussed on the road.
You curled up, half-sideways in the seat, looking in his direction as you laid your head against the back of the seat. You watched the scenery pass, the streetlamps illuminating Jack’s features as he drove. His strong nose and his neat mustache. His pouty bottom lip. The bags under his eyes caused by you-
You forced yourself to look past him, to the passing houses as you fought the urge to cry. You weren’t sure when your eyes drifted closed.
You woke when you felt Jack lifting you out of the truck. You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you dropped your head on his shoulder. The blanket was still around you.
“I got’cha.” He soothed, his voice vibrating against you. You heard the door slam shut as he started moving you. Gravel crunched under his feet as crickets chirped. How long had you been driving? Where were you?
You were about to look up when he sat you down. You opened your eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them as you took in your surroundings. You were sitting in the back of the Bronco, the tailgate open in front of you. The sun had fully set in the time you’d been sleeping, the stars shining in the sky matched by the twinkling of fireflies across the field of darkness in front of you. Your eyes widened as you watched the hundreds of little bugs dancing, their lights flickering on and off.
“Wow,” you breathed, leaning forward to see them better.
Jack joined you after a moment, sitting next to you with two travel mugs in his hands. He offered you one and you wiggled your arms out of your blanket to take it. It was warm in your hands and you could smell your favorite spiced hot chocolate.
The interior light of the truck clicked off, giving you an even better view of the stars and the fireflies as Jack threw his arm around you, pulling you into his side.
“What are we doing?” You asked, curiously.
“Just this.” Jack answered obviously, taking a sip from his own mug. “And waiting.”
“Waiting? For what?”
“You’ll see.” He promised. You couldn’t see his face just yet, your eyes still adjusting to the dimness, but you were sure he was smirking. The mischievous tone to his voice all but confirmed it.
You sipped your own hot chocolate, the warmth being the most noticeable trait. You could smell the spices, but your palate was still nothing but bland. You appreciated the effort and the warmth though.
A few minutes of sitting there, your eyes adjusting enough to see the edge of the grassy field Jack had parked you near, and you heard the clanging of a railway crossing. You perked up minimally, eyebrows raising as you looked for what direction it was coming from.
The train whistle blew in the distance, the sound mesmerizing. Jack rubbed your arm as you watched for the train. It’s bright headlight appeared, far past the field of fireflies. The clickety-clack of the wheels, the slight squealing of metal, the deep vibrations - the sound all sent you back to your childhood, watching in wonder as the train rolled just past the fence of your grandparent’s backyard. You couldn’t see the train other than it’s lights, but you didn’t care.
As the sound consumed you, you leaned further into Jack, feeling the tears welling in your eyes. You let them go, letting yourself shake, your shoulders heave as you cried. Jack pulled you closer, rubbing your back as the train masked the sound of your sobbing. You weren’t sure if Jack was shaking too, or if it was just from the train. You didn’t have your answer until the train was gone, leaving you with the quiet sounds of the outdoors once more. Crickets, grass waving in the wind, and Jack sniffling.
“I’m sorry.” You cried into his chest. You weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for. For being worthless. For him having to deal with you. For crying when he was trying to do something amazing for you. For ruining his shirt with the crying. For not being able to be better. For making him worry over you. For making him upset in turn.
“Shh, just let it out, darlin’.” Jack shushed you, rocking the two of you back and forth. “You ain’t always gotta hide away from me.”
He held you as you cried for what felt like hours. The tears didn’t stop until your throat was sore and your voice hoarse. Tears and snot covered your face and soaked into Jack’s shirt. You started to apologize but he ignored you, wiping your face with a corner of the blanket.
“Feel a little better?” He asked hopefully. Even in the dark night, you could see the hope in his eyes.
“A little.” You admitted, feeling happy that you didn’t have to lie to him. It didn’t feel like you had quite so much weight pulling you down anymore. It wasn’t gone, but it was lighter.
“Good.” He kissed you chastely. Your lips were chapped, scratchy against his soft, plush lips. You appreciated that he didn’t push it further, dreading your breath after neglecting your hygiene.
You curled back into his side, looking out into the darkness again. The fireflies were still there, still flitting around as they blinked. You watched them, sipping your hot chocolate as the night cooled around the two of you.
You wouldn’t call it happy… but you wouldn’t call it sad either. And that was a start.
Tagging @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @vonschweetz​ @insideafictionaluniverse​ @driedgreentomatoes​ @computeringturtle​ @thottiewinemom
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andrew2luv · 3 months ago
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OBX: An Outer Banks Story (Season 1 - Episode 10)
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It repeats in my head. Over and over. Like little slides. One moment, then the next. But it all seems out of order. I fall to my knees. JJ says goodnight. I vomit. Sarah does CPR. then we drive up to the house. It all comes to me in small flashes. Over and over. Always in a different order. Always feeling just wrong. It all just feels so wrong. 
“Parker. Parker.” I keep hearing it. Repeating. Always sounding different. BUt neverending.
It’s been going on forever. It feels like days. Or maybe months. Maybe just minutes. Time feels like a concept that no longer applies to me.
But I feel nothing. No pain. No hunger. No anger. No sadness. Nothing.
Then it ends. The voices end. I hear nothing. I only see the bright white light in front of me. It’s flickering just a bit. Is that a fly? A small buzzing rings in my ears. Then this odd mechanical noise. 
Then it’s gone. The voices return. They repeat my name over and over. But then a voice pops out to me. It sounds different from the others. It feels warm. The voice feels like it pierces something in me. It starts pulling things out of me. I feel this sudden sadness. This pent up rage builds up behind it like a balloon waiting to pop. And then this weird feeling that I can’t quite place hits me. It’s small. It’s fragile. It’s hiding behind the others. But I feel that’s it’s one I should hold onto. The more I look at that feeling, the more I can begin to feel myself again. 
My body. It’s cold. It’s sore. There’s a breeze.
The darkness surrounding me begins to fade away. A ray of light opens. It surrounds me.
I open my eyes and see John B, Sarah, Kiara, Pope, Taylor, JJ, and Rafe all sitting around a very bright and cold hospital room. They’re all asleep. They look so peaceful. Uncomfortable, but peaceful. 
I don’t really know what to do now. But I just stand up. I see my clothes sitting on the table. I grab them and put them on. Then I just walk out of the room. I just start walking.
I walk to the elevator. I walk in and press the lobby button. I don’t know why I’m doing what I’m doing, but I just do it. I get to the lobby and there’s no one around. I just walk through the front doors and outside. It’s freezing. I can instantly feel the cold on my feet. Then I step onto the sidewalk and walk. I don’t understand where I’m going, but I just can’t fight it right now. I have no energy to fight back. 
For the most part, I walk without seeing a single car. Two or three cars stop to ask if I need help. I don’t say anything. I just walk. I don’t even notice when I reach the beach until my feet slip deep into the cold sand. It feels nice. It’s numbing. It’s peaceful. Everything feels a bit weird. The wave hits different. The moonlight feels tainted.
I turn to the woods and walk in until I reach a familiar tree and start climbing up the old ladder. When I reach the top I just lay down. It feels right. It feels like the place I need to be. I just stare up at the stars. 
“Thank god.” I open my eyes, the sun hitting my eyes like bullets.
I sit up and see Rafe crawling up next to me. I just look at him, then look back forward.
“We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We woke up and you were gone.”
He looks to me for a response, but I don’t know if I could speak right now. I feel his hand touch mine.
“Parker. We should get back to the hospital.” I turn to him and look him in the eyes. “Okay. Just five more minutes.”
Eventually, Rafe drives me back to the hospital. Immediately everyone rushes towards me. I feel like I should be happy. Or maybe even stressed. But no. I feel nothing. I just walk back upstairs with them. I get back in bed. I stare straight ahead.
I can hear them all speaking. One by one they ask me things. But none of it really hits me. It just goes in one ear and out the other.
“I need a shower.” I don’t really know why I say it, but I felt I needed to.
They all just look at me.
“There’s a shower right here.” I look at Sarah as she speaks. She has a very kind smile.
“No. I wanna go home. Shower there.”
“Let me talk to the nurse.” Sarah goes and Taylor follows behind her.
They all just look at me. I can feel them pitying me. I don’t like it.
“Does anyone have the remote?” None of them saw that coming, but I needed to say something.
“Here.” Pope hands me the remote and I turn the TV on.
The second it turns on I suddenly feel a whole lot more comfortable. The extra noise in the room feels like a weight lifted off me. I focus on the TV and the TV alone. I start flipping through the channels until some sitcom appears and I stop.
I find myself laughing at something on the show a few times. Each time I can feel everyone looking at me. A few minutes later Sarah and Kiara walk back in with a nurse. I look at her as she hands me some papers. She starts talking about things that make no sense. It all just washes over my head. All I really understand is that they want me to make sure I don’t have a concussion and that I should stay up all day and have someone with me. Then they want me back tomorrow for a check-up. I sign a few pieces of paper and that’s it. 
I get out of bed and find my shoes. I start putting them on. I look around the room and notice Rafe is no longer there.
“How ‘bout we all go back to my place and we have an all-night sleepover?” JJ tries to put some energy back in the room and everyone starts smiling and nodding along with it.
“I’m good.” I just walk to the door.
“Parker.” It’s Taylor. “The nurse said you shouldn’t be alone tonight. And after what happened you shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need any of you.” I just walk out of the room and start rushing to the elevator. 
As the elevator door closes I can feel myself breathing again. But then the doors open again. I look up and see them all standing there.
“We’re not leaving you alone.” Taylor and Kiara walk into the elevator.
“You’re stuck with us.” John B says before he, JJ, and Pope come on.
“Sleepover at Parker’s I guess.” Sarah smiles and walks up next to me.
I ride in the van with John B, Sarah, and JJ while the others take another car to go and get “sleepover supplies”. When we arrive at the house John B and JJ go in with some stuff from the van. Sarah stays outside with me for a minute.
“You good? We can go in through the back.”
“No. I’m good.” I just walk in and upstairs.
I walk to my room and immediately close the door. I feel like this is the moment I should start crying. I should collapse against the back of the door as I hug my knees and sad music plays in the background. But I can’t. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I simply just take off my clothes and walk into the bathroom. I turn on the shower and go in. Immediately the col shower burns my skin. I turn the nozzle all the way around. The water quickly begins to heat up. It starts heating up to the point of near-boiling. It hurts but in the best way possible. It feels good to feel something again. I move my head under the water and just hold it there. I close my eyes. I let it all flow down me. I just stand and listen to each droplet hitting the ground. Feeling each drop rolling down my body.
“Parker. You alright?” I suddenly snap out of my trance from someone knocking on the bathroom door.
“Yeah.” I turn the water off and look out at the clock on the wall.
It’s been almost 30 minutes. 
I step out, dry off, and put on some fresh clothes. When I step out of my room I look straight ahead and see the door to my Grams’ room. I walk up to it. I can feel the cold air rushing under the door and onto my feet. It feels ominous. But I can’t stop staring down at the moonlight coming from her room. What’s in there? Is the window open? Should I check to see if it is?
“Parker.” Sarah comes up the stairs.
“How’d she die?” Sarah looks shocked by the question. “I need to know.”
“She had some sort of cardiac event. They said it would’ve been quick and painless.”
“Is any death really painless? It feels like an oxymoron.” She just looks at me, trying to find a response. “Okay.” I just walk past her down the stairs.
When I get down to the living room I see everyone sitting on the couch, chair, and floor with a large assortment of pillows, blankets, and snacks of every kind. They all just smile. It looks weird to me. Like a scene in an old black and white comedy show. 
“Hey.” John B grabs his laptop. “We’re just discussing what we’re going to watch.”
“We were thinking about doing a marathon of maybe the MCU or Harry Potter.” Pope looks excited.
“Or we could just do a genre marathon. Aka Action, Rom-Com, Comedy, Drama, etc.” Taylor mouths “hi” to me.
“Your choice,” JJ says, moving a pillow on the couch, clearing a space between him and Kiara on the couch.
“Horror.” I take a seat and I can see everyone slightly move their eyes to each other.
“Oh. Okay. That’s actually a great idea. They’ll keep us awake.” John B is quite good at faking enthusiasm. “Any suggestions?”
“Nightmare on Elm Street,” I say before anyone else can.
“Sounds good.” John B starts typing on his laptop.
“Very on the nose.” Kiara looks to me.
“Yeah…” I just grab a pillow and wrap my arms around it. 
Time seems to pass slowly. Movie after movie passes like it’s in slow motion. I find myself looking around every few minutes. Watching everyone else. Checking to see if they’re looking at me. They are. A lot.
Eventually, we stop to have lunch. John B and JJ go out to grab an assortment of Chinese food, pizza, and Mexican. When they get back there is mention of playing a game. But I quickly nixed that idea. So we continued movies. Movie after movie. Laughing at everyone jumping, screaming, and covering their eyes.
Eventually, the sun goes down. Everyone is starting to get tired, but they’re pushing through. I weirdly feel nothing. I know I should, but nothing. 
“I’ll be back.” I suddenly feel the urge to move around.
Everyone turns to me, the movie is paused, and I just walk upstairs. I reach the top of the stairs when I hear some talking and stop.
“Anyone else a little creeped out that he’s been laughing through all these movies?” I hear Taylor whisper.
“It was honestly a little creepy.” John B chimes in.
“Hey. He’s just grieving.” Sarah gets a bit too loud before getting shushed. “It’s just that people, they grieve differently. He’s been through a lot. Probably too much for someone so young.”
“Yeah. True.” Kiara is quiet and sounds sad.
“What if he can’t get through it this time?” John B again.
“He has to.” JJ finally speaks up. “And we’re going to make sure he does.” I hear him get up and start walking towards the stairs.
I quickly and quietly walk to my room and silently close the door. I go straight to my bed and just sit on it. Within 30 seconds I hear a knock.
“Hey. It’s JJ. Can I come in?” 
“Yeah.” He opens the door and steps in.
“How are…”
“No. Don’t finish that sentence. If I hear it one more time I will break something.” He just closes his mouth and sits on the bed next to me.
“Then what do you wanna talk about?”
“I don’t really wanna talk.” I place my hand on his leg and move in, my lips touching his.
“Parker.” He tries to speak but I just push him down on the bed and kiss him more.
“I’ve been wondering what you taste like.” I start moving down his body, running my hands up his shirt.
“Stop it.” JJ pushes me to the side and gets off the bed.
“What?”
“This isn’t right.”
“Wow. Tell me how you really feel.” I stand up and start walking to the door.
“Wait. Parker.”
“No. I understand.” I leave, walking downstairs and straight to the kitchen.
I hear JJ running down the stairs and someone asking what happened. Then JJ walks in.
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Just fuck off.” I reach to the top shelf above the stove and grab the bottle of vodka Grams kept for when her friends came over.
“You shouldn’t be drinking.”
“Oh my god, can you just shut up?” I open the bottle and take a very large chug, the others quickly filing into the kitchen. “Oh lord. Now the entire Scooby gang is here. Anyone want a drink?” 
“Parker.” Sarah begins.
“No. Don’t say my name that way. That pity.That patronization. My god, I feel like I’m in goddamn kindergarten.” I take another drink.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Sarah steps closer to me.
“No.” I step away.
I can feel my heart racing. I can feel my blood boiling. I know the anger in me is building up. It’s ready to explode. But then I remember. I look at all of their faces and remember the time on the boat. It all starts coming back to me. Hitting me. I remember their faces. Their fear. Then how I felt. How much I hated myself afterward.
So I breathe. I just breathe. In through the nose. Out the mouth. Over and over. 
“Sorry.” I put the bottle down. “I’m sorry.” I walk through everyone and out the front door.
“Parker.” I turn and JJ is standing in front of everyone else. “It’s okay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. We understand.” Sarah walks down the stairs and up to me. “Now how ‘bout we go back in and watch something a little more light-hearted.”
“That sounds good. How about Mamma Mia?”
“Perfect.” She grabs my hand and we all walk in together.
The next day, after no sleep and way too much drama, everyone goes home and to sleep. Sarah decides to stay with me and go to the hospital for my checkup. When we arrive Sarah waits in the waiting room while I go in with the doctor. 
“Parker…” She says as I sit down. “Yesterday we took a scan of your brain to check for a concussion.”
“Yeah.” She just gives me this weird look. “What? I have a very bad concussion?”
“No. We found something. Something worse.”
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yandere-sins · 3 months ago
Text
Stronger Together
An awesome commission from an anonymous client! Thank you so much for commissioning me and being patient ♥
Characters: Yandere!Dragon!Shinguji Korekiyo x Boyfriend!Gokuhara Gonta x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Mentioning of torture, Mentioning of blood & wounds, Threatening
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With a painful thumping in your head, you slowly woke up, feeling your sore muscles tense as you regained conscience. The taste of blood in your mouth was the first thing you could acknowledge of your senses, making you wonder if you bit your lip or tongue, and a groan escaped you as you took a sharp breath. Only now, you began to feel your arms sting, held over your head by a rope that caused rubbing friction against your skin when you moved. You could only assume and fear the room you were in, your eyes showing you nothing aside from blurry specks even if you opened them widely. There was only one other sound in the room you were in, and it frightened you not being able to see where exactly it was coming from. 
The first thing coming back to mind as you listened to the rattling of chains was your boyfriend, and you braced your throat to call out to him despite the dryness you felt. But when you finally managed to croak out his name, nothing but a muffled cacophony managed to escape you. Concerned, you finally noticed the gag in your mouth, wondering how it had gotten there but judging by the wooden taste, it was what also scratched open your mouth and now kept you from asking for the well-being of the person most important to you. You began to shiver as there was no way to communicate, and your fear rose as you couldn’t hear anymore rustling from what was with you in this room. Gonta had always been by your side. Even when your village got attacked, and a dragon kidnapped you two, he had never left you, shielding you and taking punishments that were meant for you, even if he was just as scared. Not having him with you now scared you greatly.
Leaning your full weight into the ropes that held up your arms, you wished there was another way to communicate, even if whatever shared your cell wasn’t anything you were familiar with. You called out again in a pitiful muffle, head moving around and your eyes slowly focusing, but this time, the ominous sound of metal shackles scraping over the cold stone floor rattled in response. Even though your head was still foggy after you were overwhelmed and knocked out before, you pieced together the evidence you had, making one more attempt to reach the presence with you, at least with the rustling of the ropes.
A groan resounded from not too far, yet not near you. You panicked at first, seeing a rising shadow in the corner across from you. It sounded as if whoever was there seemed to be in pain and confused, but some questions remained with your stomach getting nervous about what to expect. Why wasn’t that ‘person’ answering? Was there something they could see that you couldn’t? Who was locked up with you here? Your own heartbeat quickened as you had to wait and wonder about what was going on, only more grumbling reaching your ears from the other side of the room. 
“[Name]?” an anxious, tender voice called out, and you released a deep breath, recognizing it. For a moment, you had feared there might be a beast locked in with you, and you preferred Gonta over everyone else. Struggling and making yourself known with your muffled screams, Gonta slowly but surely regained his senses. He finally stepped out of the darkness and into the weak, remaining light of a candle hanging high above your heads. It wasn’t enough to illuminate his whole form, his shackles rattling terrifyingly as he moved, but at least his arm and the side of his face revealed themselves to you. With horror you saw cuts and bruises littering his skin, and just as worse was the fact he had some kind of metallic blindfold clasped over his head, searching for you with his hands in complete darkness. 
Immediately you were ridden with guilt, knowing he couldn’t see or even properly hear you, knowing he was relying on his excellent sense of hearing to make anything, and yet, you couldn’t even console him - the only thing you were good for in this situation. Gonta called out for you again, and you could do nothing but try to gain his attention. Even if only half of his face revealed in the light, you saw the fear and panic in his expression.
Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes as you threw your body around, screaming into the wooden gag, hoping he could hear you being near. Gonta soon enough fell back to his knees after having tried to reach you, and your strength began to wane too. It was a true nightmare not to be able to talk with him and assure him everything was okay. He usually was such a big and strong man, but he appeared more exhausted and fragile with his wounds than ever. All you wanted was to crouch over to him and hold him, tell him everything was going to be okay. 
“[Name]...” you heard again, and it broke your heart. You wouldn’t have minded breaking a wrist or two if it had freed you out of this predicament and let you console your just as confused and scared boyfriend. Your heart began to beat faster as you thought of ways to get out or to have something useful come out of this, but the more you panicked, the more your head felt like passing out again from the stress, and the last thing you could need was another ‘nap’ in this cold room. The best thing to do now was to think over your options and how to proceed calmly, even if it was urgent. The future of you two was still uncertain, and you feared the longer you two were stuck in your current situation, the more likely he was to pick up on you two being awake and ready to be bothered again.
All previous negotiations, pleads, and begs hadn’t done anything to change the dragon’s mind. You weren’t sure why you’d think they’d work in the first place, perhaps because the dragon could take on a human form, with features that didn’t appear strange at first glance. Maybe that’s why you thought of him more of a noble than a beast, someone you could reason with instead of a monster lacking the emotional range to understand your fear and frustration. That someone that kidnapped and burned down a village, all for the mere pleasure of watching its captives, wasn’t a person you could deal with at all had slipped your mind for the longest time of your capturing.
Trying to escape… well, that failed too. Your current situation and the drumming in your head was prove of it, reminding you bitterly that you didn’t think this through properly. Or perhaps, you did, but your plan just wasn’t good enough in the end; you couldn’t tell. All you remembered was running for a long time through the castle, holding Gonta’s hand as if your life depended on it, as you two made your way to any kind of exit. Then, a sudden crash, with only darkness that followed.
Thinking hard about your possibilities, you were torn out of your planning by a door creaking open, and your head snapped toward the source of sound instantly. Another dim light appeared in the previous darkness, and eerily clacking steps followed it. Gonta, too, seemed to notice, bracing himself as good as he could, but a short glance back at him revealed he only got more scared since he couldn’t see the approaching danger, unlike you. 
Gulping, you were almost glad to lower your head and avoid your eyes. Not like you felt guilty towards the dragon for escaping, but perhaps, the best you could do right now for you and Gonta was to show some remorse. That didn’t spare you the feeling of piercing, reptile-like eyes drilling into you, though, a powerful presence passing by you gracefully before coming to a halt in front of your boyfriend. Only now did you dare to look up again, immediately feeling a nervous pull in your stomach as you feared what might happen to Gonta now that the dragon found you two awake after the failed escape. 
With the candle in one hand, you could watch the ‘man’ reach out his free one, laying it down on Gonta’s head. Innocent as he was, he flinched shortly before recognizing the touch as nothing too dangerous, even leaning in a little. But when you tore your eyes away from Gonta for a second, you met the dragon’s head on as he watched you much more than the person in front of him. An ice-cold shower ran down your spine, and it must have shown on your face as you heard a thoughtful hum resounding from the dragon’s mouth.
You were next on the agenda as it seemed, as he let go of Gonta, walking straight back to you again. Even before his hand reached far enough out towards you for contact, you had flinched away, pressing your eyes closed tightly like a child who hoped for things to go away if it didn’t look at it. But nothing touched you against your expectations. Instead, you felt the ropes tighten before you were shortly lifted and released, your arms falling to the floor with limb thuds, unable to hold themselves after being released. 
“Humans never cease to surprise me,” the dragon’s cold voice spoke up suddenly, and you dared to look up again, only to see him watch you intently. “I give you shelter and food, and yet you still try to escape, fearing my help even.”
You’d have loved to scream back at him how nothing he did was helping you in any way, but the wood in your mouth remained, even under your protests. However, Gonta, who could talk, took the word, less emotional and more aiming to please than you would have been able to. “Mister… Sir--”
“Korekiyo. I told you, haven’t I?” 
“Y-Yes…” For a moment, Gonta went quiet again, and you imagined he was trying his best to figure out how to deal with this in the best way. His awkwardness didn’t exactly help, but you knew he did it for you. To make sure nothing worse than he too already feared was going to happen to either of you, even if that meant pushing himself. “Korekiyo, we- we don’t want to upset you. We just want to go home and--”
“But this is your home.” Without any intentions to let him finish, Gonta was interrupted, closing his mouth and biting his lip as he noticed there wasn’t much that words could do. 
“You’re not the first humans I gave a home to. I care for everyone who keeps me company, and there’s been a lot over time that knew how to appreciate that.” Pausing, Korekiyo turned away from you, returning to Gonta’s side, and you feared what he was going to do. However, he passed your boyfriend, kneeling down elegantly somewhere behind him, and you could hear the rattling of the chains as he seemed to undo their lock. It snapped open, and Gonta perked up too, trying to carefully distance himself from the sound and more into the direction where he assumed you. 
You rose up at his, mumbling into the gag to signal your whereabouts to him. To the best of his ability, Gonta stumbled onto his legs to get to you, sinking down just before you and feeling around till he could pull you into a tight hug. You didn’t care if there was the smell of sweat and blood combining. All that mattered was the feeling of him holding you.
At least, until he suddenly and with a pained cry, got yanked away from you, and you instantly knew something was wrong again when you saw the claws that had dug into his hair. “Very interesting. I reckon that embraces are very important for you humans? I must admit, I never had a couple to study. You two are the most peculiar suspects so far.”
Gonta had always been too gentle to fight someone, despite his looks. If he could, he always chose to remain peaceful, so with the strength, only a dragon could have over a man like Gonta was, he pulled him away, and you couldn’t keep yourself from glaring, which Korekiyo seemed to analyze with keen interest. 
“I don’t know why you tried to escape when everything was going so well, but I thought about it, and I decided there was something I’d rather not have showed you, but it’s no use. Perhaps it will make you understand.”
Finally, he let go of the confused and whimpering Gonta, the mechanical device blindfolding him loosening until he could simply push it off. Walking towards you, one of the dragon’s sharp claws - that you’d rather not have anywhere near you! - came down onto your face. Nervously, you tried to avoid it, but it was no use as Korekiyo stuck it between your soft cheek and the strap keeping your gag in place. The pull needed to snap the band in half seemed to be little effort for him but yanked your head pretty harshly. However, more than anything, you were relieved to feel the restriction loosening, allowing you to spit out the wooden block in your mouth. 
“Gonta!” you croaked loudly, and he too was quick to react, catching you in his arms as you stumbled towards him. There were a million words you wanted to say to him, but all you could do was squeeze his hand and brush through his hair. Both of you had seen better days, but finally being reunited was giving you strength. 
“Now, let’s go,” Korekiyo urged, and you turned your head to look after him, body and candle stepping out of a wide-open door and turning around the corner, leaving you two behind in unhelpful darkness. “We… we should follow,” Gonta eventually spoke, and you turned to him, caressing his cheek softly. You had a very bad feeling about this. A very, very bad feeling, but you knew he was right. Waiting and sitting it out would only draw the dragon’s attention and possible anger towards you again. 
“Can you stand?” you asked quietly, and together you two managed to raise yourselves and support your weak bodies on each other. Even though your legs were wobbly and you felt dizzy from finally standing up again, somehow, you two managed to follow through dark corridors, using your hands to navigate. Ever so often, Korekiyo would stop and wait for you to come closer again, though only as long as he pleased. An occasional sigh escaped his lips, and even if you wanted to be angry at him and give him a hard time for all that he was putting you through, your hand holding Gonta’s reminded you that you had to be more careful or you were risking more than you wanted to. 
When Korekiyo finally reached his destination, he waited for you two to catch up to him, ominous, strange sounds being muffled by the door you three were standing in front of. It was then that your gut was telling you to make a run for it, as nothing good could possibly await you beyond this point, but Gonta squeezed your hand encouragingly, and Korekiyo motioned to the door for you to open it. Hesitantly, you reached for the knob, turning it nervously as if your life depended on how well you performed as the other two looked on. You were too scared to open the door once the lock gave away but unluckily for you, your captor wasn’t as hesitant, his hand giving it a rough push and your body flying forward by the force of the door. 
Landing on your shins, you had to take a deep breath to keep the pain under control, breathing into where it hurt, but soon it gave away to the sounds of agony and tortured souls that rose as they saw you coming inside. You could barely believe your eyes as you let them roam through the tall room, lit by more candles that reflected in the metal bars of weird constructions. Machines that had humans, famished and with leathery skin, fixed into them, doing things only God knew what. They were torture devices, punishments, and you didn’t even want to finish your thoughts and find out more about them, fearing it might drive you insane to look around the room even one more second. 
You gasped loudly as you turned away from the miserable sight in front of you, feeling your stomach twist and turn and close to throw up. With a call of your name and a, “Don’t look!” Gonta was by your side again, hugging you close as to shield you from the scene. There was little that could keep you from crying into his shoulder, even though his embrace was so tight it made you feel safe and secure. But the things you had already witnessed were burned into your mind and playing on repeat so that you had no other choice but to accept that terrible reality despite Gonta’s best tries.
“Do you understand now?” you heard the indifferent, cold voice of your captor, the person- dragon responsible for this. “I’ve been good to you, and I plan on staying this way. Unless you want to join these souls?”
He couldn’t see the instinctive shiver that went through you, as the thought crossed your mind to be kept down here like a prisoner on death row. You didn’t even know how long anyone of the people had been down here, but you figured it wasn’t just since yesterday. However, Gonta noticed your tension and fear very well, gently brushing his hand up and down your back to calm you. “N-No, please…” he whimpered, close to tears from what he had to witness here too. Just like you, he was scared and worried, much more about you than himself. 
“We’ll be good now, right, [Name]?” Gonta asked, and you realized you had to agree now, or else it would end terribly for you two. So you sat up and leaned away, careful to not look over Gonta’s shoulder, or you might catch a glimpse of the poor souls collecting in this dungeon. Instead, you simply turned towards the dragon, lowering your gaze submissively as you nodded. Appreciative, he let out a merry laugh as he took the necessary steps towards you two, leaning down to his little captives to pet your heads tenderly. 
“How about we go upstairs again and finally have dinner then?” Korekiyo suggested, and you gulped at the word, unsure if you’d ever be able to take another bite in your whole life after what you saw. “Sounds good!” Gonta chirped up in forced happiness, knowing he had to please Korekiyo, but feeling conflicted as he glanced back and forth between you and the dragon. 
With Gonta’s help, you managed to get out, Korekiyo closing the door behind you two. Though you felt terribly guilty, you were so relieved that the sounds grew quieter. “Come,” Gonta whispered to you, despite your legs not listening and wanting to give in so badly. All you could do was slowly lift your eyes from the ground again, catching Korekiyo’s as you did. In his gaze, there was a triumphant shine, and if you could have seen all off his face uncovered by fabric draped over what you thought were scales, you could have sworn he might have shown you an amused expression. But what else was there than to bow to the dragon’s will, when the alternative would surely kill you and your boyfriend?
All you could hold on to now was the gentle touch all around you, and you looked up at Gonta, who met your anxious gaze with a smile to cheer you up. He didn’t look sure himself, even more, worried beyond his cheerful expression. It reminded you that you had to be strong too. If he could, then so had you. You weren’t alone in this; at least that much was able to give you comfort. 
And perhaps, you’d be able to make yourself believe that everything was going to be okay if only you’d try to like this new arrangement you had agreed to. 
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hellsenthero · 3 months ago
Text
Below Zero
Written by: hellsenthero
Bucky X FemReader
After a mission gone wrong Y/N’s left hypothermic and injured. With no jet to get them back to the Avengers Compound safely Bucky works to save his partner, all while hoping he’ll get the chance to tell the girl about his feelings for her.
Warnings/Themes: Angst, fluff. (1.5K Words.)
Masterlist and Bucky Bingo.
**********
It was a coldness that Y/N had never known before. She could barely move, barely speak, barely think. 
“Come on doll, not much farther.” Bucky rasped. Trudging through the snow he carried her, his body giving off a delicate warmth that she curled into. If she had the energy to speak, she’d hassle him about how the hell he stayed warm despite the freezing temperature, but alas, all that came out of her was a muffled groan. “Keep your eyes open.” Bucky commanded. Giving her a sudden jostle her eyes peaked open, looking up onto Bucky’s baby blues that softened as he gazed back down at her. 
The two silently vowed to themselves that the next time they saw Tony, they’d give him a piece of their mind for the fun little mission he sent them on. His words, not theirs. 
It was supposed to be a clean, easy sweep of an abandoned Hydra hideout for any left behind files they could get their hands on. And it was certainly not supposed to blow up the second they entered the five digit pin code to unlock the steel front door. 
They were lucky they were alive, and relatively unharmed. All thanks to Y/N’s quick thinking and the heavy steel door that protected them from most of the blast. Survive a bomb only to be killed by the cold. Just their luck. 
With the building ruined and bits of shrapnel protruding from Y/N’s thigh, the two Avengers were forced back to their jet, only to find the electronics system damaged. Meaning that they were stuck, stranded in the middle of nowhere and the damn door to the jet wouldn’t even close for them to hide away in until help arrived. And with an injured partner and freezing temperatures Bucky immediately made the decision to begin hiking towards a nearby safe house. 
A safehouse that Y/N had no idea about until Bucky told her. She couldn’t even remember where they were exactly, and she didn’t particularly care at the moment. The only thought racing through her mind then was warmth. Warmth, I need warth. Give me warmth. So cold. Too cold. I need warmth. 
“Buck…” Y/N groaned out, an attempt at telling the man how freezing she was. 
“I know.” Bucky soothed. And he did know, he knew just how cold the girl in his arms was, how hypothermia was taking over, how death hung above her, dark and ominous like the grim reaper’s scythe. “We’re almost there.” He told her honestly. Bucky could see it, in the near distance the safehouse appeared as a brown blur through the snow fall. 
Inside he could start a fire, get Y/N warm, use the backup radio’s to call for extraction after his and Y/N’s were ruined and patch up her thigh. Hopefully he could even get some food and water into the girl. He just needed to get to the safe house first. 
“Y/N,” he called, jostling her once more when he realized her eyes had slipped back shut, “Y/N.” Y/N’s eyes remained shut and Bucky cursed to himself knowing that the girl was now in an even greater danger of not waking back up. “Come on doll, stay with me.” 
Racing through the last few yards of snow Bucky finally got into the safehouse. The door opened up into a living room. There was a couch laden with blankets and pillows set before a fireplace and Bucky sighed in relief at the sight of it. He set Y/N down gently on the couch before doing a quick scan around the safehouse, ensuring that the two really were safe. 
“Okay, doll. Time to wake up.” Bucky said once he came back to the couch, content in knowing the property was safe and a new radio in hand. “Bucky Barnes to Avengers Compound.” Bucky said into the radio, praying he remembered the channel Tony had set up properly.Setting down the radio Bucky went to undoing the zipper of Y/N’s coat, taking off the snow covered puffer he threw it to the floor haphazardly before slipping a pillow under her head. His flesh hand came up to her cheek, gently patting her in hopes of waking her up, but it was no use. With a worried grunt he layered the girl with all four blankets before going to start up a warm fire in the fireplace. 
“Bucky, Tony and Steve here, what’s going on?” Steve’s voice cracks through the radio. With the fire now crackling away in the fireplace Bucky picks the radio back up. 
“Steve, Y/N’s down and we’re stranded. I got us to a nearby safe house West of the base but it’s not looking good. We need to be extracted ASAP.”
“We’re searching for your coordinates now.” Steve answers. Bucky breathes a sigh of relief knowing the team will get to them as soon as possible. Setting down the radio he races across the room to the first aid kit hanging from the wall, bringing it back to where Y/N lays on the couch he pulls out the equipment he needs to tend to her thigh. “We found you, leaving now.” Steve radio’s in. “How bad is Y/N?”
“She’s hypothermic, unconscious and has shrapnel protruding from her thigh, so I’d say she’s fucking bad, Steve.” Unable to control his temper Bucky growls into the radio, uncaring about what Steve will say to him on the matter later on. The only thing Bucky cares about now is Y/N and getting her to the compound where she can be treated and safe. Steve’s voice comes through the radio once more but Bucky doesn’t care, instead he begins talking to his partner as he rips open her pant leg, allowing him to treat her thigh. 
“Hey doll, I need you to wake up. Please Y/N, I’m beggin’ here,” with the fire started and cracking away Bucky prays the heat will soon be enough to wake the girl up, “it’s not often that a super soldier begs, doll. Do me a favour and open those pretty eyes for me.”
It takes a while, but as Bucky takes out the last piece of metal from your leg he finally gets a response from you. It’s only a murmur, but it’s like music to Bucky’s ears.
“That’s it doll, wake up. I need you to wake up and show those pretty Y/E/C eyes of yours.” As you slowly peel open your eyes Bucky can’t help but think it’s the best thing he’s ever seen in his long life. “That’s it,” he says gently, with your leg now all bandaged up and cleaned of blood he brings up his flesh hand to your cheek, feeding you as much warmth as he can through the touch, “good girl, keep those eyes open.”
“Bu...Buck…” The girl croaks out. Her hand twitches in an effort to hold onto Bucky as she opens her eyes. The sight of him kneeling over her filling her with a sudden need to press up against the super soldier, a need to feel him against her so she can be assured that this isn’t all a fever dream. “Buck...hold...me.” Speaking is still too difficult for Y/N but her whispered words are heard by the soldier. He wastes no time in getting under the blankets with Y/N as he too has a need to hold onto his partner, a need to be assured that she’s going to be okay, that if her eyes do fall shut once more that they won’t be shut for good. 
“Don’t worry doll, I’m right here. You’re safe.” Bucky murmurs to the girl. Pulling her tightly against his chest he’s careful of her injury as he wraps his arms around her. 
It doesn’t take long for Bucky to realize the buildup of emotion in him. Yes, he already knew long before this mission that he had feelings for Y/N. He already knew that he’d do anything she’d ask of him in a heartbeat and yet the realization of his love for her hadn’t fully hit him. At least, it hadn’t hit him until now, as he holds her in his arms. 
He’s also shocked by the realization that his knack for self-hating thoughts around her is all but gone. For once he’s not thinking, I wish I could have her but I don’t deserve her. Or the other common one, she’s too pure for a monster like me. Instead, his thinking, when we get out of here I’m going to tell her I love her. And if she lets me I’m going to spend the rest of my days showing her why I deserve her and why she deserves me. 
With these thoughts in mind the door to the safehouse opens, the rest of the team bursting in to get their two team members to safety. 
It was safe to say that when Y/N woke up in the infirmary with Bucky sitting at her side, he told her about his feelings for her. 
It was safe to say that with a smile of her own, Y/N admitted her feelings towards him too. 
It was safe to say that together, they proved to each other for the rest of their days why they deserved each other. 
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youarejesting · 3 months ago
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Lost Boys
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[Full Masterlist]
Rating: All Pairing: BTSxReader Genre: Supernatural, thriller, psychological, angst, cute nature boys, symbolism, trigger warnings: abandonment, mature, fantasy, supernatural, and character death. Words: 2.2k
Summary: Bangtan Forest was said to be evil, stealing children and anyone who got lost. Some say it was attacking the humans. You don’t think much of scary campfire stories, that is until the rocks and trees come alive.
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Aisles of high tech camping gear had you in awe. You even thought about a new sleeping bag but, it just seemed like a waste. There was nothing wrong with the sleeping bag you already had and to buy a new one to use once a year was not worth the money. 
Grabbing the mosquito repellent you headed to the counter. Your friends were carrying emergency lights and flares standing in line behind you ready to make their purchases. “Good morning, just these?” The young girl smiled, she was deep in her role of customer service, which you totally respected.
“Uh... yeah and um, one of these please” You placed the emergency whistle onto the counter, it was plastic and only cost fifty cents.
“Of course, is that on the card today?” She continued talking and you smiled nodding holding up the card, stepping to the other side to pay. Taking your things, there wasn’t much left for you in the shop. That is until you heard something interesting. 
“There was another landslide by Bangtan Forest, it can’t seem to let anyone get close,” An old man said to another, “Luckily no one was hurt or went missing this time.”
The drive was beautiful and the radio played nothing but summer hits, you were singing along with the others, they were your closest of friends. Lillia was a sweet young lady, she loved nature and had a particularly soft spot for mushrooms. She brought her camera and expected to take some cool shots over the course of the weekend.
You were looking forward to going wild, not like partying wild. No, more like, sitting in the dirt, lighting fires, and splashing around in a river. That was your paradise, your escape. Having almost screamed into the phone when the suggestion of camping was brought up. If it got you out of your house and out of your life for a moment, you would take it.
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The camping grounds were pretty, you passed a sign on your way in that had a lot of warning pictures but you didn’t have time to read them all. The only one you saw was to put out your fires entirely before you leave, which honestly felt like common knowledge, and if you didn’t know that you shouldn’t go camping alone. Forest fires were not a joke.
Finding a place to pitch a tent was hard, a lot of the really shady spots were taken but there was a really beautiful spot by the river. According to Jester, your know-it-all friend, the river spread through the whole of the forest intricately like a spider web. “Because of the river the vegetation inside is thick, people say as you walk the vines grow around you and if you stop, you will be buried under the vegetation.”
“I heard that bad person used to leave their kids behind, and the forest took them in and that if ever you are lost or left behind the forest takes you,” Lillia said lowering her sweet voice trying to be serious. “There was a story, of a class field trip of kids were pulled off the trail and they were never seen again. They say the forest is evil.”
“I heard it protects the kids because they are left alone.” Jester contradicted and Lillia nodded pointing at the other. Nodding in agreement as she ate a slice of orange.
“I heard that too,” She smiled “I like that idea, that the forest just is a home taking care of the children left behind.”
As if ominously on cue the three of you had heard giggling coming from across the river. But it was drowned out by laughing and cheering from up the river, another group was splashing around and soon you all joined. 
The two groups became friends and it was fun, but it started to rain, nothing extreme just a light drizzle. You had dinner early and hoped into your tents. You were alone in yours as there was supposed to be another person on the trip but they couldn’t make it due to a family event.
It didn’t take long until you were fast asleep to the sound of the rain. You don’t know how long you were asleep for when you woke up suddenly a sting in your chest, shaking that aside you heard crying. 
Getting a little scared you poked your head outside the tent and saw a child running from one of the tents in the park to the water. He was calling for his mother and moving for the forest begging his mother to come back and you wondered if the mum had been taken or went to the toilet. Either way, this child was running straight into the forest.
Lost or left behind the forest takes you, you thought back on those words, The forest is evil. 
Every other thought left your head and your primary objective was to save the child, you began running, your body felt like you were moving through cement. That’s how thick the plant life was, you had a stitch in your side after a mere five minutes of sprinting but you kept pushing until suddenly the child hopped across the rocks and curled up and he was gone, in his place was a Pinecone.
You hopped across the rocks careful not to get your feet wet, you had slipped on your sneakers and you didn’t want to walk back to camp with them wet. Speaking of camp, you were lost and the child you were following had disappeared and left in his place a pinecone.
Stepping up to the small pinecone, you pocket it and it wiggled around in the dirt letting out a chorus of childish laughter. Shaking with giggles in the corner of your eyes was a small pile of leaves, you were looking around breathing heavily and freaking out. 
As you were frozen in place in shock and trying to catch a glimpse of someone playing a trick you felt something entwine around your legs. You shrieked jumping and ripping your feet free from the vines that started to grow around your shoes.
“Alright, boy’s you had your fun, go play with the other kids your age,” A voice said, you were relieved finally someone had revealed themselves it was just an elaborate plank until a decent sized boulder began to move, it was like camouflage, and from the curled up position a human stood up and straightened out. “Can’t a rock get some sleep around here?”
“Come on, Yoongi you are no fun?” a voice said from your left, you looked trying to find where the voice was coming from and you smiled seeing the moss open its eyes and step away from the tree making you shriek. 
They were people camouflaged perfectly to appear like trees and rocks. They were strange-looking and you weren’t sure if this was some weird dream or if it was real. The more you looked the stranger they appeared. Some of their features were replaced with other things.
“I am starting to solidify more and more” the rock man who may be the one the other referred to as Yoongi muttered and a Berry Bush wiggled itself free from the ground and he walked over helping the rock man stretch.
“A log pulled itself up off the ground and stretched with the creak of old wooden furniture and gave a low groan. This distracted you from the movement behind you. 
“We have been getting bored on our own, but it is nice to have a friend visit,” A voice said, and when you turned you saw a man covered in mushrooms, his head was topped by a big mushroom that made him look like he was wearing a bucket hat. You almost laughed at the insanity.
“Ahhh, it is so nice to be free” A sapling wiggled until its roots or in this case feet were free. 
“Where is Jin?” The logman asked and they all looked around. The pile of leaves and the pinecone wiggled around until children appeared gesturing to a nearby meadow.
“Thank you Hyuning, Yeonjun” The mushroom guy smiled and they began hopping over the river using the rocks, The sapling grinned waving you to follow.
“If you stay too long the vines will start wrapping around you again, I am Jungkook” He smiled, along the way they all introduced themselves and you had to admit this was the oddest and trippiest meeting you ever had.
“There he is,” Taehyung called and Seokjin who they had told you about on the way had appeared lifting himself off the grounds his body covered in sweet flowers. “What were you doing out here?”
“I was trying to get some sleep but someone was snoring” He stretched ignoring the snickering from Jungkook who said he was probably up late with the kids playing games. “Who is this?”
“Oh, this is…” Namjoon said and froze, “I am sorry, we didn’t get your name?”
“Oh my name is Y/n” you smiled and they nodded 
“We are helping Y/n get out of the forest,” Jimin said puffing his chest out his leaves rustling. It was so odd to see these people dressed like they were in some school play, like tree number one and rock number three. 
“It’s no rush, just as long as I get out at some point,” You said trying to ease their worried expressions.
No, you don’t get it if you are still here when the sunrises, you will be stuck in the forest forever.” Yoongi said, “We are all here for a reason, Namjoon has been in the forest the longest, he used to be a tree before he fell.”
“Well, maybe we should hurry,” You said looking at the vines trying to wrap around your feet once more. “I have to keep moving these vines really are aggressive when it comes to wanting to keep me here.”
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Along the way the boys began talking, each telling their story. Namjoon said he was from 1761 and he was left there by his mother who could no longer feed him after his father died. “I was nineteen and very sick so I didn’t last very long. But, it wasn’t long until I met Jin he was twenty-one and got lost in the forest.”
“I was collecting flowers for my fiancee I was supposed to be getting married shortly and well, I never even got to meet hurt.” Seokjin smiled, continuing on the storytelling from Namjoon and explaining his experience “I was kind of wishing I would get lost, I was so young and didn’t want to get married to a stranger.”
“I think it was 1892 and I was about twenty as well, I had run away from home, I remember stealing food from town and whilst escaping ran into the forest and I never came back out.” He shrugged, keeping his story concise as he helped you step over a fallen tree, “life as a rock is peaceful.”
“I was part of a traveling circus and well it wasn’t a good living, the people were awful and beat you if you spoke, one of the performers had a grudge for me so I hid in the forest and when I tripped the vines grew over me quickly” Hoseok made hand gestures at you making you giggle and move away from him, you bumped into Jimin who caught you before you fell. “That was maybe 1901 and I was about nineteen”
“I can’t remember much, I remember being really drowsy in a car and being told to wait while my father got some juice, I was about eighteen and he didn’t come back. The forest called me inside.” Jimin frowned slightly.
“I was hiking and I lost my way following a pretty butterfly,” Taehyung pouted, “I didn’t mean to get lost and I wish I had paid attention, I just wanted to take a picture.”
‘For me, it was not too long ago, a class excursion, we were following the trail and a bully dropped my hat in the river I chased after it and before I knew it I didn’t know where they had gone. I was seventeen.” Jungkook said with a smile that looked somewhat forced. “But it’s not all bad. I have made some really great friends.”
“And who else would play with the little ones. So many children got left in the forest much younger than us.” Seokjin explained sadly.
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You saw the forest thinning out and flashes of red and blue flickered through the trees, you stepped out to the edge to see police and ambulances and more, there was a landslide. It was at your campsite, you froze looking around spotting your friends sitting in the back of the ambulance. 
The vines were wrapping around your feet but you ripped them free, “it was nice meeting you thank you” You said, and placing the whistle between your lip you blew hard.
“We found her!” a voice shouted, you gave up on cautiously hopping rocks and went running across the river. When your foot touched the water you fell your shoes had disappeared as had your legs and from your waist down you were nothing but water. You looked up trying to drag yourself out to see your friends when you saw them carry your body out of the mud on a gurney.
You could never leave the forest but as the river flowed throughout you could visit all the residence inside.
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jjba-hell · 3 months ago
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Fate and Fortune
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Aight so now we gettin’ angsty... (I must beg for forgiveness in advance, I am not the best at writing shock or action ʅ(◞‿◟)ʃ
Part 2 of the series and again, the context I give you in the piece is all you’ll need for now. Except maybe for my anime exclusive watchers (not that there’s anything wrong with that)- Vera does undergo my interpretation of the stand fever which is something that Avdol (Abdul??) is very well acquainted with.
I’ma just link Part 1 over here...
Content warning is: violence, blood and gore, some themes of death and rebirth but not particularly explicit in either. (Lemme know if I missed one)
For the moots: @risottoneroo (welp I guess you’re stuck with me) @giogio-gucci-gangstar @rat-makes-stuff @uttertrash and @dongiovannaswife (omg hi thanks for following me)
2.1 K words
Vera returned home after another pleasant shift at the shop, dropping her home keys into the ceramic bowl at the front door. “Mom, Dad. I’m home.”
She unraveled the traveling scarf from her head and locked the door behind her, finding the silence and the slight chill to the house a bit suspsicous. The sun had already set so a chill wasn’t uncommon but...inside? Her mother always kept the thermostat warm- she couldn’t stand the cold.
“Mom?”
There was no smell of food from the kitchen.
Panic rapidly clawed its way up Vera’s spine, setting every nerve in her body on fire. The continued silence did nothing to ease the worry in her body.
“Dad?”
More silence- she broke out into a sprint towards the kitchen, turning into the kitchen to find…
The dark, slick blood of her mother running along the marbled floor of the kitchen- her face covered with her own black tresses. The shock only electrified Vera’s nerves further- her breath coming in ragged huffs as her feet stepped closer to her mother’s body, sprawled on the floor on her back, eyes gone pale and glassy already. Vera was desperate to crawl closer and check for a pulse or a breath, anything to deny the reality of what she was seein. But deep within her, she knew her mother was gone- there was no way she’d be able to survive her throat being ripped into bloody shreds like that.
Her body stopped its dazed walk as the reality set in and soon her hands flew up to cover her mouth, the scream getting caught in her throat as she backed away- as if walking away was all it took.
Dad. Where’s dad?
Vera scattered towards his study, running to the other end of the hallway, ignoring the carpets sliding underneath her feet to find a scene not much better than the kitchen- with her father’s head bleeding out over his desk, face down on the desktop.
The cold ran through her body like ice, every nerve once on fire now turned stone cold as the tears sprung to her eyes, knees giving out underneath her. Her lungs burned for air in her chest but whatever breath she took felt like it wasn’t reaching- like she couldn’t get her body to obey her long enough to breathe and not even so much as a wheeeze would escape her lips- the tears flowing freely.
“My my my. What a pretty little thing.” A deep sultry voice purred and in an instant her breath was back with a gasp, her neck craning around to see a figure cloaked in the darkness of the hallway. A man. Tall and sturdy in stature. After the shock passed for a moment the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Vera scrambled frantically back in fear, her back hitting her father’s office desk, heartbeat in her ears overwhelming the question she asked the man slinking closer to her. “Did- did you do this?”
The figure stepped forward to reveal a sickeningly handsome face framed by golden hair. Red eyes- hypnotically alluring as he slowly moved closer to her cowering form on the floor.
His smirk turned into a pleased smile and suddenly she was overcome by fear once again, knocked from the little daze of admiration. The glinting fangs in his mouth connecting to her mother’s bleeding throat. It had to be him. Who or what else could have done this?
“It’s such a shame you parents had to perish for your sake, my dear. They seemed so shocked when I asked them where their little magician in training was. I assumed they were lying until their very last breaths- if only you had…”
As he continued taunting her, the wheels in Vera’s head were spinning. Her initial reaction was to book it out of the nearest window, but those thoughts were quickly interupted by the blonde monstroity kneeling right in front of her and a black lacquered claw digging into her cheek as he pinched her jaw in one hand. “Now now, no need to make a fuss, darling. It will be over soon, I promise. You’ll be meeting your parents soon.”
Her eyes continued to water at the pain in her cheek. He gripped her chin harder, feeling as though he was aiming to crush her lower jaw between her thumb and forefinger- the immense strength of his hold stretching her neck impossibly wide, bringing his lips to her neck.
Something inside of her, from the deepest recesses of her chest, felt like it snapped at the mere inclination of the blonde’s head toward her neck. Her eyes shut and what felt like nothing but the sheer force of her own desperaion, fear, and shock all turned into one thing- the wish that this bastard be thrown out the window in the room opposite the hall. To her, that was all it was, a refusal for it to end like this. Whatever adrenaline was running through her system in that moment, it made her bold- having her grab hold of the intruder’s blonde locks and with a force she didn’t even know her own body was capable of producing- she shoved him back- aiming for the hallway and beyond. All the energy expelled form her body threw the bastard back, beyond the hallway and through the glass window of the room opposite the office.
Now was her chance, she knew she had no time to lose. She grabbed hold of her father’s business phone off the table and threw herself out of the window while that same surge of energy moved through her veins, projecting a few inches from her skin like armor. As she sprinted down the street she came from, without so much as a pause, she called the police first. Her body seemed to know where it was going better than she did, it took a few turns for her mind to catch up to her body. She was running towards Avdol’s shop- thinking it’s the only place she’d feel safe at that moment. To the police, out of breath and straining to speak, she detailed what she had seen until they confirmed that they would check out what was going on soon. She was about halfway to the shop when she called Muhammed.
“Muhammed, please meet me at the shop. I’m scared and I’m....I’m...”
“Are you on your way here?”
“Yes!” The relief spilled over in tears over her cheeks. “Please tell me you-“
“I’m still here Vera. I’ll be here.”
Time seemed to escape her after she tossed her dad’s phone to the street and sprinted toward the shop where Abdul opened the door for her after the first knock. “Vera! What happened?”
Out of breath and now feeling like she was on fire from the running, the tears streamed down her face and with the most painfully forced exertion her body could manage, she sobbed. “A man. My parents. They’re both dead. I- he wanted me. He-“
“Did he lay a hand on you?”
“Wanted to but I...Something happened and- I don’t know what’s going on. I called the cops and just ran-“
Her breathing became more ragged as her body tore itself between sobbing and breathing- her world growing dizzy as she leaned against the tarot table. “Vera, please take a deep breath, you’re going to-“
Avdol tried to get her to sit down, grabbing her shoulders to steady her into a seat, trying to guide her back to gaining her breath back but it was too late. Vera’s knees buckled and the dark corners around her vision overwhelmed her completely- the floor being the last thing she saw before her body forced itself asleep. Only to be welcomed with fire.
This fire within her bones- it felt physical and yet not. It gave no light, nor reprive like a flame licking at firewood. It was dark, pitch black with the heat only growing steadier- rising higher and higher. And then, as if to reward her for surviving that far- she regained some consciousness.
When she woke up, she frantically gasped for breath under heavy covers and a cold compress to her forehead. She opened her eyes only to be welcomed with unfocused, dizzy vision. Her whole body seemed to sit on the precipice of two extremes. Unbearable cold and sweltering heat. She felt her breathing labored, the control over her own body growing weaker the longer she strained her eyes to see. Avdol soon came into her field of vision, peering down at her with immense concern.
With a hoarse voice that didn’t even seem like hers, she croaked out. “Muhammed, what- I-“
He hushed her, bringing a bottle of cold water her lips which she drank happily with chapped lips.
“Remember the death card we spoke on the first day we met?”
She nodded, the effort making it feel like she’d already exerted herself.
“I’m sorry, Vera but it seems to have come into effect. Your life is making a turn bigger than either one of us can even begin to understand. I will do my best to keep your physical self alive but this battle is within you. Your fighting spirit is all you have to take you through this.”
She regained her strength for a moment, his words of ominous premonition being forgotten as she remembered why he was the one helping her drink water instead of her mother...
“Muhammed, my parents. My parents they-“ the tears started to leak from her eyes once more. “They’re dead, aren’t they.”
Avdol didn’t answer, as he offered her another sip of water.
Vera felt as though she had cried yourself to sleep once more, the puffiness of her eyes making it feel like her eyes were swelling themselves shut and the ache behind her eyes growing more intense.
She had no idea how long the battle within the heat of her own body would take.
She saw nothing for the entirety of her struggle- a battle waged in the dark. Her body felt like it was constantly on the precipice of either boiling blood in her veins and extremities feeling like they were frozen stiff. Through it all, questions and choices started to bubble up and swirl in her delusional little mind.”
“Stop fighting it- let it happen.”
“You’ll find peace if you stop fighting your body.”
“Let go.”
“Find the middle.”
“Use them against each other.”
Somewhere among the chaos of her own pain, one voice seemed to hold the strongest- a voice much like her own but perhaps a bit more warped and echoed. Its sound soothed incredulously and helped her make the choice. She had understood that at that moment, her body was a battlefield and with the most stubborn refusal to die like that- she put an end to the war raging inside of her.
It brought on even more pain- splitting these two opposing forces from one another like pulling skin from flesh. Until she had control over both, separtetly. That intense heat now feeding into something that moved outside of her body and laid dormant when out of use.
By the time she re-emerged from consciousness for good, her breath was strong, feeling as fresh and free as she was taking her first breath again.
Her body was sore but it felt like the kind of sore you felt after a good work out. Her head on the other hand, was the only part that was throbbing like she had had too much wine. The room was dark- moonlight gently streaming over the sheets covering her legs. Vera got up slowly, stretching with a few crackles of protest from some of her own stiff joints before walking off towards the door- looking for something to drink, preferably with alcohol.
It took her a moment to recognize the decorations up and down the hallway. She was in Avdol’s house.
To her luck Avdol’s kitchen was only a few steps up from the room she was staying in. His drinks cabinet located oh too easily in a glass case above the fridge.
He had refused her the first time he welcomed her into his home- when he ushered them both into his home when an unexpected sand storm blew through town and he didn’t want to risk her getting home on time. Now, she’d be damned if she didn’t get something to help ease the ache in her head.
Her fingers found the cheap vodka and then tiredly sighed as she cracked open the bottle and took a few gulps. The taste was intense- and perhaps not the most desirable taste straight from the brink of death.
Muhammed came into the kitchen, baring only a black tank top instead of his usual robes. “I see you survived.” Was all he said groggily.
“You seem to be hiding things from me, Mr Avdol.” She croaked through her hoarse voice. “How much you know about the man that took my parents from me is up for debate but...you seem well acquainted with that awful fever I had to endure to acquire this-”
Vera let the manifestation of her ‘lucky feeling’- that intense heat she had separated and tamed from her physical body- emerge freely from her body.
“Because strange as it may seem- I feel like you knew this would happen.”
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thursday-updates · 4 months ago
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The Kids Have Changed - Chapter 37
Source: https://page.kakao.com/home?seriesId=51463923
“...You shouldn’t smear it all over while eating,” said Madame DeJoue. 
I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. 
"Ah, milady! That’s very untidy...” 
I cut off her words before her scolding became much longer. 
"Hehehe. I won’t do it from now.” 
She sighed. “...Anyway, it should be fine to approach the ex-Duchess now.” 
“That’s good. I want to send her out of the country as soon as possible. Send my lawyer to the ex-Duchess. In exchange for her bail, please get her to sign a memorandum saying she will never appear in front of Carol again and get it notarized. Ah, nevermind." 
"Yes?” 
I thought for a moment. 
“I have several things I need to discuss with the lawyer, so please schedule a meeting with him.”
“Yes. Understood.” 
"In any case, we need to get a signature from the ex-Duchess.” 
"Will she keep her word...?" 
"Of course not. She isn’t the type of woman to obediently get on a boat to a foreign country. The duke will take care of that part.” 
“My goodness. Duke Gratoni will?!" 
“Yes. Somehow, I ended up joining hands with that man.” 
“...Wow.” 
“Thank you for the compliment.” 
Once we got the notarized document, the duke would use the duchy’s knights to put Sarah on a ship going abroad. She would have to stay in the duchy for a little while, but it would be a very short period of time, and the knights would guard the harbor until the ship left. 
And with the power of Duke Gratoni, Sarah would be placed on a list forbidding entry back here. 
Then, even Sarah wouldn’t be able to approach Carol. 
I was satisfied with that. 
“But... If you’ve joined forces with the duke, can’t His Excellency take care of the bail and notarization?”
“I can’t let him. I don’t want the duke to have any authority over Carol. He has to stay back in this condition for now. He’s just someone to give me what I want. That’s why I’ll pay the bail and take care of the documents, too.” 
“You don’t like His Excellency.” 
“Of course not.” 
Wasn’t that only natural?
If things continued as they were now, I would have no reason to like that man. I just pitied him a little more than I did in the past. 
“Then, I’ll continue as you ordered.” 
"Thank you, Madame DeJoue.” 
“Think nothing of it.” 
With this, Carol’s path would be free of nightmares. 
Carol just had to grow up nicely. 
***
The talented Madame DeJoue set up an appointment with the lawyer right away. I was able to meet with the lawyer one day after I mentioned wanting to do so. 
“Sharon, who’s that?” 
Carol hung onto my arm and glared suspiciously at the lawyer. 
"I told you that you shouldn’t act like that to adults, right?” 
Carol continued to be on guard despite my words. 
“It’s weird. I feel like I’ve seen him once before! How ominous.” 
I let Carol be and politely greeted the lawyer who had travelled all the way to the duchy to see me. 
“Hello. I’m Sharon von Atrina. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 
The lawyer smiled refreshingly under his felt hat. 
Oh? 
As Carol said, he seemed familiar. Before I could say anything else, the lawyer took off his hat, put it over his chest, and greeted me.
“It’s been a long time, Lady Sharon. Lady Carol. I’m your lawyer, Huran.” 
Ah. Now I knew who he was. 
“Oh, Huran. It’s you.” 
I looked carefully at Huran’s form. Like I thought in the past, Huran looked very similar to Chan Lee. Now that he was older, he was even more similar. 
That was why without realizing, my eyes became wet. To hide it, I smiled broadly and held out my hand. 
“It really has been a while, Huran. I’ll have to treat you to the meal I promised you before.”
We never had the meal I promised because I had become sick. 
“Anytime is fine. I feel like if Lady Sharon is treating me, I’ll be able to enjoy the meal.” 
Huran grew up to be a better gentleman that I had thought. It was a shame that he was born as a commoner in this status-obsessed world.
From his side, Madame DeJoue looked over us with a pleased expression. 
There was only one person unhappy with the situation. Carol stuck out her lip in a pout and pinched my forearm. 
"Ouch!” 
It wasn’t painful, but I had been startled. When I looked at Carol in surprise, she was looking at me like she felt refreshed.
Really, what was she so pleased about?
"What are you doing?” I said sternly. 
“Feed me, too!” 
“...Have I ever starved you?” 
Had Carol, the daughter of a duke, ever gone hungry for a single day? Her whining was incomprehensible. I patted her head. 
“You’re a good girl, right?” 
“...Don’t just look at Huran. Look at me, too. Okay?” 
“Okay, okay.” 
She wasn’t as bad as this when I was with Julien. She was behaving like an attention-deprived child.
I stroked Carol’s head and turned to Huran. 
“Since it’s lunchtime, how about we eat first?” 
"All right. As you wish, Lady Sharon.” 
His bright laughter was just like a recording of a long-past summer. Like the Chan Lee of my memories. I’d managed to forget all this time, but in a moment, his image came back to life.
Chan Lee, who led me around with his warm, large hand. 
Chan Lee, who kissed me softly. 
...Chan Lee, who whispered that he loved me. 
The flood of memories felt bittersweet. 
I... probably couldn’t see him again, huh? 
But maybe that was for the better. We had been bound to each other, and neither of us had been able to move forward.
"Sharon?” 
Carol’s prodding woke me up from my thoughts. Everyone was looking at me strangely. 
“Are you sleeping while standing up now?" Madame DeJoue asked bleakly.
I shook my head and replied, “There’s no way I could. First, let’s go to a restaurant. The cook will do his best for our guest. Right, Madame DeJoue?” 
“...Certainly.” 
Madame DeJoue hazily met my eyes. As she led us to the restaurant, I cleared my heart. I had to be careful. What would I do if I accidentally called Huran ‘Chan Lee’? 
“Sharon. Why do you need a lawyer? Can I listen in?” 
“You can’t.” 
“Why not?!” 
"Because you’re still a baby.” 
"What do you mean?! I’m already 15 years old!” 
“Then from today, you should sleep in your own bedroom.” 
Carol shrunk back quickly at my words. 
"...I’m still a patient." 
“You are. So I’ll let you listen to adults’ conversations later.” 
“Tsk. You’re young, too!" 
Seeing Carol sulk and run toward the restaurant, I sighed. 
"Hey! Your dress skirt is flipped!” 
"I, I know that!” 
Bullshit. 
***
Thankfully, the meal suited Huran’s tastes. Huran neatly cleared a plate, not forgetting to send his compliments to the chef. 
Manners maketh man, was it? Then his manners made him the man the saying was about. 
"Hmm. The duchy’s tea is excellent as well.” 
We had moved to the parlor. Huran praised the quality of the tea, a gentleman among gentlemen. 
Chan Lee was the same. 
I bit my lip. I had to stop thinking these useless thoughts. I couldn’t focus because I had seen a face like Chan Lee’s for the first time in a while.
“...Lady Sharon?” 
"Ah. I keep on staring. It must be because you’re handsome, Huran.” 
Huran looked at my impish smile and burst into laughter. 
“It feels nice to hear that from milady. Everyone acknowledges that you’re the greatest beauty of the country.” 
“Oh my.” 
The way he talked seemed to come right out of a drama. 
"Thank you, Huran.” 
“Think nothing of it.” 
Huran had another sip of tea and took out some documents from a leather bag he had prepared. The immaculately tied papers’ content was also well organized. 
“My older sister said that you wish to send the duchess to another country.” 
"Yes, that’s right. For that, I also need to pay her bail.” 
"The bail costs quite a lot. Your allowance would not be enough, which means that you need to dip into your inheritance. Furthermore, if you use such a large amount of money, your guardian, Duke Gratoni, could hear about this affair. Is that all right?” 
"That’s fine.” 
I didn’t need to be cautious of the duke anymore. He had already been aware of what I was doing, and he had even promised to help me. 
“There isn’t a need to hide, now. But I don’t really need to show my hand. This job should be done in private... Hmm. You can impersonate Duke Gratoni if you want.” 
"...Will Duke Gratoni allow that?” 
“He probably won’t care as long as the other nobles don’t realize that I’m the one behind these moves.” 
I wanted to live quietly. I was dipping my hand into various things for Carol and Julien’s future, but I didn’t want to enter mainstream society or politics.
That was probably because of my lingering feeling that I could return home. 
It had been years, but I couldn’t let go of my damned attachment and longing. 
I didn’t have family or close friends waiting for me. The only person who cared was probably Chan Lee. 
But despite that, I couldn’t help but miss the familiar place where I was born. There were nights when I longed for one bite of kimchi ramen.
"I see.” 
Instead of asking why, Huran nodded. 
“I’ll do as you want.” 
He was a considerate person. He didn’t ask questions that would trouble me. 
“Please finish up the documents to send the duchess overseas as well. I want a notarized statement in exchange for her bail.” 
“That shouldn’t be difficult. Should I also acquire the boat for the duchess to ride?” 
“Yes. As fast as possible, please.” 
When the duchess was released from the jail, she would stay at the duchy for a bit. Carol would need some time to say goodbye. 
However, I wanted the duchess to leave us as soon as it was feasible. The quicker the goodbye, the better. 
“I’ll look for ships departing soonest. You don’t mind the destination?” 
"Yes. It’ll be good if it’s far, though.” 
I absentmindedly stared at Huran as he wrote on the document with a fountain pen. 
Pfft. 
His handwriting was messy. I remembered that Chan Lee had nicer handwriting. 
Luckily, nobody heard the laugh that I swallowed. 
“I understand. I also heard that you want to purchase a workshop.” 
“Yes, that’s right.” 
“Would it be all right to ask you what your goal is?” 
I drank some more tea to organize my thoughts. 
As of now, I was the only person who knew Freya. The others didn’t know how she would get involved with me. That was why I couldn’t even speak to Madame DeJoue about this. I had no explanation for it. 
Well, it wasn’t possible to explain the relationship between Madame DeJoue and me, either. 
I couldn’t hold back my laughter. 
“I want to try running a workshop. Isn’t it the industry that’s guaranteed to make money?” 
In other words, even if a family was ruined in this world, they would continue to buy dresses. That was how much dresses were worth as a symbol of prestige and wealth. 
Thus, there would be no way that the workshop would go bankrupt in the future. 
“If that’s your goal, would you like to purchase a workshop that has famous artisans?” 
I rubbed my chin and shook my head. 
“No. The artisans of such places have great pride. I want a workshop that’ll move as I want them to. I can just find talented people to work there.” 
That talented person would be Freya. 
"...I see.” 
Huran put two bundles of documents in front of me. 
“This place is close to the duchy, but it has a lot of debt. If you want to buy the store, that needs to be taken into consideration.” 
Huran grabbed another document. 
<Ch. 36 | Ch. 38>
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heyyy-hey-babyyy · 4 months ago
Text
I’m Fine. Just a Little Tired
Part II (Read part I here)
Summary: Catching wind of a hunt, Sam, Dean, and Y/N, head toward a small town where residents are attacking each other. What they find could be dangerous for them all.
Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader
WARNINGS: Canon typical violence
Supernatural/horror fusion 
The Crazies (2010)/Supernatural fusion
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The next thing you knew, you were strapped to a gurney, rolling down a brightly lit hallway. You glanced around nervously, noticing your body wouldn’t move much with how tightly you were strapped to the vehicle. A man with a gas mask leaned over you ominously pushing you briskly down the hall, and you begged for help silently, as he loomed over you, before he left your vision, returning to the task ahead. Each room that you passed had people in it screaming to be let out. You gasped loudly when the small window of one the doors you passed was suddenly smeared with blood from the mouth of a woman kept inside. You struggled again, wrenching your hands this way and that trying to get them free. You’re a hunter, dammit you thought to yourself. You’ve gotten out of worse. Figure this out!
Each person you passed that wasn’t locked inside of a room, was clad head to toe in a hazmat suit, and each time the gurney moved by someone, the Walkie-Talkie attached to their hip came to life with screeching orders to “keep her moving!” The entire scene was like nothing you had encountered before, and you continued to try to get your arms free of the leather cuffs holding you down like you were a mental patient. 
Finally, the bright hall ended, and you were rolled through plastic curtains to two men who held up a mask attached to some vacuums, similar to what they’d use to pass you out before surgery. 
“No!” You yelled suddenly, rocking back and forth as much as you could to get out of reach of the men. “Please!” You begged as one placed his hand roughly on your forehead holding you down. “Stop! You can’t do this!” 
The mask over your face muffled your voice and you tried to hold your breath for as long as you could, pulling away from the man. You lifted your neck and the man pushed you down against the gurney roughly, forcing you to take a breath, and suddenly it all went black. 
—————-
You woke in a dark room, strapped to the same gurney. Hoping the straps were loosened, you raised your shoulder as high as they would go, feeling the resistance of the strap across your chest and you slammed back down with a huff. Come on, Y/N, you thought to yourself. Find a way out of this. You stopped struggling for a second to listen to what was happening behind you trying to hone in on your hunter skills. There was a man laughing hysterically in the corner furthest from you, his chuckles bouncing off of the walls. The sound was off putting, as clearly nothing about this situation was funny, and you scrunched your eyes together trying to ignore the man. 
Opening your eyes again, you looked around noticing that everyone else was attached firmly to gurneys, and it didn’t look like anyone was discriminating against their victims here— People of all ages, genders, and races as you could see were attached to the beds around you. You huffed out a sigh, coming up short on ways to get yourself out of here let alone these people.
Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t heard the sickening metallic scrapping coming from the door on the other side of the room. You glanced to the side and saw a man coming forward out of the shadows dragging what looked to be a pitchfork slowly across the ground, making a horrible grinding noise. He was dressed like a normal resident of a small town, simple white shirt and tie, only difference being the shirt was splattered in red that ran all the way up both sides of his face.
The man continued down the aisles dragging the pitchfork with him, before stopping abruptly at the side of the bed of the man that was still laughing hysterically in the corner. Without a second thought, the man with the pitchfork lifted it over his head and slammed it hard into the chest of the man, the sharp prongs crunching through the man’s sternum and down into the soft bed below. Even with the pitchfork in his chest, the man in the bed kept laughing, so the other guy ripped the pitchfork out and slammed it into his chest again, causing the man to stop mid laugh, a smile still plastered to his face. 
You opened your mouth in shock, but whipped your head to the side when the young girl a few beds over from you gasped loudly and started to cry. Ripping the pitchfork from his victim, the man walked slowly toward the young girl, who began to cry loudly, her shoulders shaking her entire body. 
“Shhhhh.” You began, glancing at the man coming toward them. You didn’t know what else to do, but help her calm down so that maybe he would walk away. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart” you continued, using Dean’s signature pet name, as you wrenched roughly at the straps, holding you to the bed. Your hands were rubbed raw from the rough leather, but you weren’t about to watched this young girl get impaled right in front of you. 
The man came closer, the pitchfork grinding against the floor and you had no choice. 
“No!” You screamed as loud as you could, causing him to rip his head up and look you in the eyes. You took a few gasping breaths as the man came toward you instead.
“Shit.” You whispered. Dean’s gonna be pissed at you... You continued to pull roughly at the straps against your wrists hoping one of them would come undone before the nicely dressed man decided to end you. Hearing the grinding come to a halt right at the end of your bed, you stowed yourself for what you knew was coming. 
The man raised the pitchfork over his head, and you looked him briefly in the eyes, and screamed out when his weapon came crashing down. 
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You heard the two gun shots with your eyes closed and you breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing Dean and Sam had found you. They both rushed to your side, Dean making quick work of the straps around your wrists, while Sam stood behind him, pointing his gun toward the exit in case any more crazies decided to come through the door. 
“Y/N,” Dean sighed, glancing you up and down after loosening your binds, as you rubbed at your sore wrists and smiled at him. 
“Long time no see” You responded back with a wink, and Dean scoffed lightly, pulling you roughly into his arms. You didn’t hold back, knowing you were safe, and let out a few sobs realizing how close to death you really had just come. The boys had died a few times, both before you knew them and while, which was one of the most difficult things you had ever had to go through. But your own death... You hadn’t even considered it until you were stuck trapped to that gurney. Perhaps a naive thought for a hunter... 
Dean felt the soft shake of your shoulders, and lightly rubbed your back, seeming to know exactly what you were going through. You felt Sam’s hand grab at the one that was holding tight to his brother’s flannel, and you hung on to the younger Winchester as well, accepting the comfort for just a minute. 
Taking a deep breath, you pulled away from Dean, and avoided his bright green stare for a second, looking around the room. 
“Come on.” You whispered to the boys, moving from bed to bed and unlatching everyone from the gurney. Many of the people laying there were unconscious, but you couldn’t leave them strapped to the bed for when they woke up. You unstrapped the young girl that was mere seconds from death minutes ago, and she bolted upright, sprinting toward the exit before you could say a word. 
Tears fell silently down your cheeks as you prayed to someone out there to keep that girl safe. Dean walked up and grabbed your hand, thumb softly skimming the burns across your wrist from the leather straps. He smiled to himself, thinking about how badass you were for trying everything to get yourself out of that situation. 
“Come on.” He whispered to you pulling your hand lightly to follow him, nodding at his brother. You and the brothers headed toward the exit of what looked like a high school that they must have been keeping people in. 
Walking through the double glass doors you let out a gasp, pulling your hand from Dean’s to cover over your mouth. 
“My God,” Sam whispered taking in the scene in front of him. 
Through those double glass doors, was a war zone. Bodies were deposited across the parking lot in large pools of blood. Dean stared past the bodies to the building across the parking lot that looked like it had been bombed. But you couldn’t stop staring at the people laying useless on the ground, as an old woman was wandering amongst them asking “did Peter call?” Over and over again to each body she passed. 
“What is this?” Dean whispered more to himself than anything. Sam looked around quickly, the first of them to regain composure, and grabbed your hand, urging you forward with him. 
“Come on.” He stated back to you and you felt Dean grab your other hand roughly, following along. 
Horror tag list (tagging people who asked/enjoyed my horror/SPN crossovers) 
@idksupernatural​
@vicmc624​
Dean tag list
@akshi8278​
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ophelialoveshandsomemen · 4 months ago
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S.I.M.P.L.E
A story about Dean having the apple-pie life he’s always wanted. As told by Sam’s perspective. Sometimes. Just roll with it, I wrote this for my own fun. Figured maybe all you lovely people could get a shot at enjoying it too!
Disclaimer. All mistakes are mine. The French-Canadian OFC is mine. The WInchester kids are mine. Dean, Sam and the rest of the SPN cast of characters, unfortunately, are not mine.
I believe @justjensenanddean​ owns one of the pics in the collage. Maybe… It was a while ago. Nicely let me know if I should take it down. Or if this is illegal or something, tumblr is still mildly confusing to me.
Summary.  Sam learns some more about his quirky nephews and beautiful nieces.
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Chapter 2: Dean’s Magnificent Family of Seven.
Sam dried off his hair, after his luxuriously long shower, with a towel that smelled vaguely of moss and oranges. It made him wonder if his newly discovered sister-in-law leaves the clothes outside to dry or if she actually uses a soap that is scented like moss and oranges. He did see a washing machine when he passed by the laundry room a little earlier, but he hadn't caught sight of a dryer. Louisa does strike Sam as the slightly more old-school type, so it's very possible that she just doesn't have one. He wonders exactly how old Louisa is, anyway? He's pretty sure that there's no grey in her hair and she was running really fast for a pregnant mother of four. But Sam just can't imagine his big brother to have actually married a woman that much younger than himself. Meh, maybe she simply athletic.
As he cautiously exits the steaming bathroom in the house's spacious and well-lit basement, Sam peeks around the corner to see if any of the kids are hanging about, ready to pounce on him. They aren't shy, that's for sure. He sighs a bit in relief, really, until he sees one of the twins, Robert, he thinks, pad over to him from the den where the two older kids are watching, is that The Magnificent Seven? Oh Dean... Sam crouches down to Robert's level. The boy seems to eye him warily, then leans in to whisper in his ear.
"Pweas, come wi meh. Stasie neeeeds ew!"
Sam nods quickly and lets Robert lead him to a nursery on the other side of the basement, where Anastasie was floating above her crib as she whimpered. Sam gulps. 'Not good.' She turned her head towards Sam and his heart fell into the pit of his stomach. They glowed a very faint blue. The same colour as Michael's... Before Sam could have a nervous breakdown about it though, Robert tugged on his sleeve to pull his ear back down to his level.
"Do't orry bout bue eyeses, aways ave 't. Wo't urtuh. Wan ick up!"
Sam, thankfully caught on to the fact that the kid said she won't hurt him and that she wants to be picked up. As soon as Sam grabbed her, her eyes turned a normal dark brown and her weight dropped into Sam's arms. He heard Robert say 'Tank ew.' and 'Come wi meh.' right before he was left alone with his thoughts in the forest green nursery.
What the hell! Don't be what I think you are!
He went and sat with the kids as they watched The Magnificent Seven, trying to figure out how he was gonna bring this up with Dean, when Marie plopped down beside him and said "Uncle Sammy we need to talk."
"Um, okay. What about Marie?" "What you just saw in the nursery. See, Mama was three months pregnant with Anastasie when Dad got possessed by the bad angel." "Archangel, you nimrod!" John-Henry interrupted from his spot under the hand carved coffee-table where he appeared to be searching for something. "Shut up dirt-bag! Anyway, Mama didn't know about the possession and when Dad sho..." "Or who she thought was Dad!" "I said shut it! Showed up Mommy was a bit confused, but sometimes Daddy acts a bit strange anyways. We were all asleep and didn't see him that night. But the next morning when I woke up Mama was in the kitchen crying and Dad was gone. Seems when Mama and Daddy got "reacquainted" the night before Mommy found out about the angel and how he'd given some weird power glow stick stuff to Anastasie." "It's called 'grace' idiot! And it's still archangel..."
Marie stuck her tongue out at him for that. Sam's head is reeling with information now. Between the fact that, apparently, archangels can turn already conceived children into partial nephilim and the fact that Marie used air-quotes and a metaphor for sex at the age of seven, Sam just didn't know what to think.
"Where are your Mommy and " he swallowed, "Dad?" Sam had never had to call Dean a dad. The word suddenly felt foreign on his tongue.
John-Henry shrugs as he lowers the volume on the movie using the remote he'd been looking for. "Getting reacquainted. Usually takes them twenty or so minutes. Unless Dad's been gone a while, then it can take an hour. That's when Marie and me watch a movie."
I shouldn't have asked...
"And Robert? Doesn't he watch the movie too?" " Robbie likes to sleep instead. Or play with the pool balls on the billiards table behind you." Marie answered.
Course there's a pool table. Did I really expect any less? Next up will be a trampoline and a gun range! Jeez!
"Mama's calling! Time for dinner!" "Yippee!" " You coming, Uncle Sammy?"
Sam must have really been out of it. He hadn't heard Louisa calling at all.
"Yeah, I'm right behind you sweetie..."
The whole family somehow settled down and sat at the heavyset, oblong, wooden table in the kitchen. Which was quite cute, in Sam's opinion. Yellow walls with dark blue trimmings and dark pine cabinets that had deer antlers for handles. Bit clashy maybe. But cute. Bright. It looked like a fairy tale cottage had a baby with a hunter's cabin, to be exact. Sam's attention was caught, again by Marie, when she made a comment about hoping that her Dad hadn't put another twin inside her Mommy like he did for the boys. Louisa snorted her juice out her nose, she was laughing so hard. "Honey," she said after, " I'm not sure that can happen twice to the same mama, so I think you're okay for now."
When Sam gave Dean the dude-what-is-she-saying face, Dean rolled his eyes and took a deep breathe before answering.
"Well apparently, some ladies can get pregnant after they're already, you know, pregnant. John-Henry and Robert were born at the same time, but not, uh, made at the same time. It's why Robert is so much smaller than John-Henry and has a bit of trouble pronouncing. He was on oxygen or some crap like that for a few weeks after he was born because he was technically two and a half months premature. But Johnny here was good to go within a day."
"Lord I hated that labour! Everyone buzzing around like headless goats and moaning on and on about how the babies mightn't make it! I ended up throwing everyone except Dean out of the room before the doctor forced himself back in. Which took just long enough for Robert to be born, then Doctor Ominous insisted on delivering John-Henry. I swore to never darken the door of a maternity ward again afterwards and so far haven't broken that oath, either!" Louisa smiled at Dean. "Lucky for me, I have a husband who is more than willing to stay home with me and bring these little ones into the world."
Louisa fondly kissed Dean at that, the kids giggling in the background as they did. Unfortunately, Louisa leaning over gave Sam the full view of her neck which exposed a blooming hickey. Sam shuddered.
"So, Dean was the one who helped with both of the girls?"
Sam both hoped and dreaded that the flippant question would pull a reaction from either Louisa or Dean which would inform Sam about the whole Micheal-gave -my-baby-sister-voodoo-powers thing. He wasn't disappointed. Dean's face immediately fell and Louisa bit her lips, responding " Technically, Michael delivered Anastasie. But now is not a good time to talk about that."
Supper was served by Louisa. A chili con carni made with beef chunks as well as hamburger. It also had sweet corn and some sort of white corn, possibly native corn, in it. Sam had to admit, for the amount of unhealthy cholesterol in this ungodly meat mix, the chili tasted divine. No wonder Dean was slowly but steadily gaining weight in the last eight years. Not that the diner food helped any either. Sometime in between Marie and John-Henry fighting over Lord knows what and Anastasie puking up half of her steak and peas mush all over Louisa's t-shirt, Robert, who was having a lot of trouble finishing his meal, grabbed his plate and silently slid into Dean's lap. That's when Sam noticed Dean's smile return, after the unwanted attention brought on about Michael. Robert settled in and tightly clung to Dean's waist. Dean wordlessly began to spoon feed him, eating his own chili in between hesitantly taken bites from Robbie. Robert never made a sound...
Sam began to wonder if the boy was naturally clingy or if his silent demeanor and slight anti-sociability was an indication to something else, due to being premature.
Supper ended on a anti-climactic note, in all honesty. Louisa carted Anastasie off to be washed, given gripe water to settle her stomach and set to play in the living room/study beside the kitchen. Marie and JH ran outside, having barely washed their hands forehand, and paying no mind to Dean yelling at them to stay in the yard or so help him. Sam sat back, drinking some unlabelled beer Dean had pulled out of the fridge. He chuckled under his breath at the sight of Robert with his shaggy head tucked beneath Dean's chin. Dean is humming Old Cotton Fields by CCR.
"Dean?" "Hmm?" "When did you and Louisa get married? You are married aren't you?" "Yeah, got married back in 2011, on Louisa's 20th birthday, June 10th. Most of her family refused to come cause she was marrying some no name pool stick slinging drunkard who drove a muscle car and was a little too handy with a shotgun for her mom's liking." Dean's pensive for a moment. "You know, in the end, only her dad and her oldest sister with her family attended. And two of her friends from college, they were the bridesmaids. Got married in a little Catholic church up in North Dakota, where Louisa's from. Legally, we're not really married, since the government thinks I'm dead. Louisa just changed her name." He huffs." Said my name was sexier than hers. Anyways, the priest was so old, he agreed to bless our wedding without the permission of the bishop. Or a marriage licence."
That answers my question about Louisa's age then...
Sam smiles at the thought of his brother, standing at the altar, watching as his bride marches radiantly down the aisle.
"So, her family hated you." Sam laughed "Who would've guessed that?"
Dean chuckled at Sam's sarcasm.
"Bitch." "Jerk."
"I wish I'd been there with you." Dean visibly tightens his hold on Robert, who had fallen asleep a while ago, drool pooling on Dean's t-shirt. "I wish you'd been there too, Sammy..."
Louisa steps back in at this point. She ushers Sam and Dean, still holding his sleeping child, into the living room. Louisa snuggles into Dean's side on the relic couch from the 60's. Sam lounges quite comfortably on the green plaid, cotton upholstered recliner nearby.
Not a word was said for the rest of the evening.
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asukaskerian · 4 months ago
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monthly word count - november
well it's a good thing i wasn't gonna try a nano. >_> TOTAL: 5 171 POSTED: nuthin! IN PROGRESS -madatobiizu ABO sequel (1 723 words, not much but it was a lot of editing and i hate editing so they count double or something.) -that grimmichi superheroes AU - scene that i forgot where i was going with it (2 164 words) -bleach ABO (136 words I HATE EDITING SO THEY COUNT DOUBLE OR SOMETHING.) -ichihimenelgrimmjow suburban OT4 thing (1 148 words but they are actually four different attempts at the same scene which is stuck like an utter bitch and i don't know which one i'll keep, if i keep any of them.)
-- MadaTobiIzu ABO -- The Senju weren't the Sarutobi. You didn't ransom a Senju. You didn't play nice because some moron had booked your two clans on the same mission and while some day you might get another job that would pit you against each other, right now you weren't, and it wasn't personal. The conflict with the Senju wasn't a conflict over missions, on behalf of employers, not even a conflict over stolen contracts. Fact was. The Uchiha needed the Nakano for their forges, their glassworks. The Senju needed it for their crops. There wasn't enough water for all of it. There was a reason half of their conflicts sparked alongside channels dug in haste to divert as much of the capricious flow as they could get. The Uchiha needed the wood for their forges, too, and for their weaponsmiths, and for their houses. Good, straight wood, well-dried, of a good length. The Senju razed it all down for more crops, shoved them back toward the rocky slopes full of brambles and tortured pine trees and only let them win back fallow ground and swamps. It had only grown worse under Hashirama. What did they care of how exploitable the forest was? If they needed good planks, he could make them. Firewood didn't need to be seasoned. Furniture to make? Mahogany, rosewood, ebony, all at the flash of a hand. It didn't matter much to them when a whole bunch of thirty-year-old oaks went up in flames; Hashirama would just laugh and fix it. Izuna kind of hated the guy. -- grimmichi superheroes AU (still don't know where the fuck it's going but in the meantime it's fun.) -- "Yes, Mom, I'll take pictures of the classmates too. I don't even know why you want to see their ugly mugs, it's still mostly the same group as last year. Yeah, yeah." In his ear, Kurosaki Masaki made a tut-tut noise. "You know the rules, Icchan! And you know... the punishment for breaking those rules!" She had even done the ominous voice. Pffft. Ichigo kicked off his shoes and started making his way through the living room. "Uh huh. Special Kurosaki torture. Hug torture." "Excuse you, cuddle torture." "Fate worse than death," he replied absently, looking around for his sisters. Yuzu would be at her after-school... thing, but Karin wasn't in front of the TV, which usually she hogged like a troll hogs its bridge. Maybe she was in her room. ... Fuck, he hoped she was in her room. "It's good that you'll be ready to meet your fate!" "Yeah, yeah -- what?" "Well, you still haven't sent me any pictures of your new cat! Mommy's hurt, you know. She has a grandson she's never met." Ichigo froze in the middle of the staircase. "M-my what? Who told you--" His brain had just broken in so many directions at once, it was a miracle he hadn't fallen over. Didn't help that Zangetsu woke up enough to poke at his recent memories and start cackling like a hyena. "Karin!" he hissed, slamming her bedroom door open. Quietly. It was pointless anyway because she wasn't there. Toilet? He hadn't seen the light under the door, though. Out with her friends? God, he was lying to himself now, because he knew better. He really knew. So did Zangetsu, who had gone from amused to very, very still and was slowly taking over his lungs and heart for longer, more efficient breaths, for oxygen saturation and readiness to deal death. In his ear his mom was saying not to be too hard on his sister, that nobody minded and of course Ichigo wasn't keeping the cat (she lied, blatantly) but even if he changed his mind that would be fine. "...I'll call you back, Mom," Ichigo remembered to say, standing in his own doorway, as he watched his baby sister deal a handful of cards to the supervillain taking up his bed. "I want pictures of the new cat!" she called out before he could end the call, and Pantera's eyelids twitched minutely. Pantera, who had gone just as still as Zangetsu had, with the whole of his injured flank exposed to attack and Ichigo's baby sister barely a lunge of clawed hands away. "Pictures of the new cat, got it," Ichigo said, somehow, detached and floating on a veritable lake of adrenaline. He hung up. Lowered his hand. Every inch of space his hand crossed felt like a countdown to sudden violence, Zangetsu's and Pantera's readiness coiling tighter and tighter; Ichigo's, too. Karin meanwhile was watching him over her shoulder with her eyes narrowed in fearlessly annoyed warning. 'Don't you dare,' or 'don't blow it.' "You told Mom I'd adopted a stray cat?" Looking away from Pantera felt like the last mistake he would ever make but as he did -- Zangetsu snarling to attack first, to pin him to the bed, get in his face, snarl a good threat -- he caught Pantera breathing in deep all at once, like he'd been holding it. "Did you want me to tell her you'd adopted a cage-fighting hobo?" -- Suburban OT4 -- So the Kurosakis' neighbors are a little nosy. Which, Nelliel gets, honestly! She's this brand-new woman with green hair playing alone with their toddler-aged son. Of course the next-door neighbor and the one two doors down on the other side coincidentally came up to the far corner of their fence to have a chat. And observe. Nelliel isn't fussed. She just grinned and waved hello and then went back to Kazui-chan, who is in the middle of an epic and incomprehensible story about the travels of a stick. Sometimes Nelliel is the mountain Sir Stick needs to cross. She narrates. Kazui giggles, and sometimes says "Nooo." "So, how's it going?" Nelliel looks away from the kid for one second, and gets headbutted in the side of the head. Ow. Wincing, she rubs her head, but it's the toddler who tears up.
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radicarian · 4 months ago
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Woke up with Danse Macabre stuck in my head. Some might consider this ominous but I think it's just an omen of how Danse Macabre is a kickass jam
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plotbunnyslayer · 5 months ago
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COVID and Anxiety
Do you know why COVID is so bad for someone with anxiety?
Back in March, when testing was almost impossible, I had symptoms.  Sudden feverish chills (but no actual temp because I never get fevers), sore throat, congestion, and the horrible cough.  It was the start to a shitty weekend where I wound up having to bring my cat to the emergency vet, only to find out that he had advanced cancer and was suffering.  So I had to euthanize him, and the tears and upset I was feeling only make my COVID symptoms worse.
At this point I didn’t suspect COVID because it was relatively new.  But I did attend a concert with about 14000 other people just days prior.  At the time that I was sick, testing was in such short supply that many people were being turned away unless they were so bad that they were headed to a hospital.  A few days after symptoms started, I lost my sense of taste.  It wasn’t announced as a symptom until days later.
When it was, everything clicked, and my “cold” felt a lot more ominous.  I started to feel a heaviness in my chest when breathing.  My lungs were clear, but the cough was really bad.  It would hurt my back and cause pain to run down my arms.
I was sick for about 3 weeks.  Symptoms like the sore throat had only lasted a few days.  But I was tired.  So, fucking tired.  I’m still tired and it’s been 8 months.
Antibody tests weren’t readily available until 4 months later, and by most accounts, it was too late to see if I had been affected.  There were also reports of people becoming re-affected, so what was the point in spending the money for the test in the first place if I wasn’t going to be immune.
So the anxiety during my illness was unreal.  The prospect of my symptoms worsening and then having to go to the hospital ALONE terrified me.
I’ve seen tiktok videos of people venting their fears of that happening.  People are having COVID infection parties to try to get the virus and others are just terrified (rightly so) of leaving their house.
Last night I ate spicy Mexican food.  I fell asleep like right afterwards, hoping to take a pre-prime time tv nap (because that’s what I have to do every day after work so I don’t fall asleep by 8PM).  But like usual, I wound up sleeping through my 45 min alarm and work up at 10:30PM.  Then I was up until 3 am.  At one point, I started coughing a little.  It hurt my chest. I blew my nose (a tiny bit congested).  I wondered if that chest pain was a re-emergence of COVID.  I had a hard time falling asleep after that.  I turned the fan on to ‘circulate the air’ to make it “easier” to breathe.  I woke up at 7am.  Chest still hurt.  But the anxiety kicked in.  And I was breathing, but was I getting enough oxygen?  I could feel the anxiety ramping up. I had to jump off the couch and walk around.  Was that making it worse?  My heart was pounding.  I literally stuck my head in the freezer to snap me out of the negative thoughts.
It took me a few minutes to figure it out: the Mexican food.  I fell sleep right after eating last night.  Not a good choice.  I was laying flat on my bed scrolling on my phone for hours when I couldn’t sleep.  Not a good choice.  I have a history of acid reflux.  Coughing is a symptom of acid reflux.  The reflux can leave your chest (actually your esophagus) hurting for days after an episode.  So I swallowed some pepto (it’s really not the best product, but since it’s liquid and it coats the affected area as you swallow it, it give me a psycho-somatic feeling of relief).
But anxiety ramped up my response to ‘symptoms’.  And I’ve seen a lot of people posting videos who are COVID positive or experiencing symptoms waiting for test results and it’s super important to check in with people.  It’s a scary and lonely disease.
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