#and i just felt so Heavy. like my limbs r weighted. and i was just like. 'i Can Not do inventory today.' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rustboxstarr · 7 months

Text

🗡"Seeking attention like some common whore"🗡

Summary: Eddie doesn't think before he talks when he's pissed, he regrets that now when he has to explain to his daughter why her mom can't wear whatever she wants.

Pairings: Dad!Eddie Munson x Mom!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, some fighting, Eddie being a dick, Eddie and R being a healthy couple and talking about their problems lol

Wordcount: 2.6 k

A/N: I found this in my docs and thought why not post it? Idk where the idea for this came from but I guess its mildly funny 🤷‍♀️

Love yas!

Check out my other works!

You woke up in a sour mood on Saturday, head pounding and your mouth extremely dry, a bitter taste resting on your gums. Your week had been long and challenging, you hadn’t even been that keen on going out partying Friday evening but Cindy, your closest colleague had psyched you up and made you feel excited about the whole thing, you even enjoyed yourself, had quite a few drinks, lots of laughs, some stumbling around with some other girls from the office as you made your way out and a permanent sloppy grin painted your features as you got out the cab and stepped through the door to your small house where so much love had been shared you were comfortable calling it a home. That grin was wiped clean off the moment you stepped through the door.

A hangover was beating down on you, made even worse when you woke up with no long muscly arms wrapped around you, or any limbs even touching you for that matter. You craned your neck from your position lying on your side to see Eddies back to you, shallow even breaths making his torso expand evenly. It felt melancholy, not waking up with a comforting warmth wrapped around you, and you almost let that feeling overtake you before you rolled your eyes as you remembered what had actually gone down the night before, the reason for why there would be no awaiting tylenol and water on your bedside table and no lazy saturday morning cuddles before Ophelia woke up.

You dragged yourself out of bed, the weight on your feet feeling undeniably heavy and sagging as your post drunk state hit you like a slap in the face when your head leveled upright. Taking a deep breath you decided to go downstairs and get yourself some pain killers, a very large glass of water or two and a strong cup of coffee.

Rubbing your eyes of sleep you sipped your coffee at the kitchen table, sunk into the wooden chair, much too hard for any slouching to be at all comfortable. Footsteps pattered against the wooden stairs alerting you that someone was coming to join you, much to your dismay it wasn't a light pitter patter of tiny feet but heavy steps of a tired grown man probably equally as sour as you. The thuds alerting his presence caused you to quickly adjust your worn cotton nightgown, pulling the hem up comfortably to cover any awkward cleavage.

You didn't even look his way as you heard the same footsteps enter the sage green and powder blue kitchen, you made no effort to stand up and greet him in any way instead you just sipped your coffee and looked out of the window. Your husband’s and your own car parked in the driveway in front of the empty quiet street of the suburbs. Green grass damp with the morning dew brightening up the dark hours of the early winter morning, a colorful painted mailbox even more a stark contrast to the blacks and deep blues that painted the sky.

Eddie poured himself a cup of coffee and folded himself into the opposite chair, a low groan slipping past his lips at the action. All you did was glance over to him, at the interruption, but Eddie's eyes were fixed on the maple of the table as his hands wrapped around the dark Star Wars mug, the same one he drank his coffee in every morning, just like you with your Zelda mug. Before you flicked your eyes back to the view of the street through the window you noticed Eddie was shirtless, pale skin dampened in the lack of light shining at him, torso littered with tattoos, snaking up his arms and chest, down to his hips. He too hadn’t bothered to change into day clothes yet.

The silence loomed over the small open kitchen as you both sipped your coffee in quiet, you refusing to meet his gaze as Eddie chanced glances at you, trying to gather what mood you were in and by extension how the rest of the day would look like. All he could understand was that you were nowhere near happy and that meant that his day would probably be even longer than the workweek had been.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to get you to look at him but you blatantly ignored him and continued staring out the window. Just as he was about to try again the familiar noise of tiny feet tread the steps down the stairs that he had taken not long ago. In an instant both of your heads turned in the direction of the hall awaiting Ophelia, eyes fixed on the corner before a head of messy brown curls appeared.

In her blue whale pajamas, clutching her favorite teddy bear, Mr Burr as she so pleasantly called him. Rugged white fabric, fluff lost with the amount of love it had been given the past four and a half years and stuffing unevenly placed in the head and body, leaving a thin long neck on the seal in its rightful position of Ophi’s elbow.

“Hia baby” had it been any other day your voice would be alot more chipper, but today, you couldn't muster up the strength, your tone was flat and croaky, clear evidence of the night before. Eddie winced behind you as he heard it, you were probably not feeling very well and he couldn't help but feel the slight guilt that part of it was his fault with the fighting yesterday, but also not being there to dote on you the morning after you had been out drinking.

“Hi” Ophis' voice was near a whisper, still tired and not fully awake, she walked over to you, holding her hands out expectantly. You groaned as your weak muscles worked to pick your daughter up and sit her in your lap, that too made Eddie wince, guilt bubbling up even more than it already had. “Sleep ok?” he leaned over the table to let her slide her small hand into his big palm “No it was too loud” she complained as she let her dad wrap his fingers around her wrist. “Oh I’m sorry baby, were mommy and daddy talking too loud? you should have come in and told us” you hugged her to you as you felt bad about keeping your daughter up. “Probably would have helped me get to bed faster than staying up till 4 am” you mumbled, too groggy and hoarse for Ophi to understand what you were saying. Eddie let go of his daughter's hand with an eye roll, occupying himself with a large gulp of bitter coffee instead.

“Why were you and daddy fighting?” Ophelia turned to you as she nuzzled her head to your collarbone “Me and daddy just had a little argument” you explained as a hand instinctively went to comfort her, smoothing down her hair atop her head. “What was it about?” she pressed as Eddie stood up from his seat to prepare a bowl of cereal for her and later on, her sister.

You looked over at him and decided, you may as well just tell her “Hmm well you know when Daddy says you can’t wear some things?” looking down at her. “Oh great turn our daughter against me” Eddie grumbled as he poured milk into a pink plastic bowl, you scowled at him as the little girl spoke “Yeah, I don't like that, he tells Woxy too” she frowned up at you, it was difficult to take her seriously as she tried to pronounce her sister Roxette’s nickname. “Yeah well daddy does that with me too” you explained in a soft tone, despite the fact that you were actually really annoyed at the fact. “Why? Daddy says it's because I'm just little but you’re old” you chuckled, not catching the way Eddie's lips tugged up at the corners. “Yeah, I’m old”

Eddie sat back down before placing the bowl and a small spoon in front of Ophelia's usual place at the kitchen table, signaling for you to let her down so she could eat. Ophelia crawled down and then up again to sit with her knees digging into the specially placed cushion on her chair.

“Daddy” she looked up after a few mouthfuls “Hm?” he turned to give her his full attention “Why can't mommy wear what she wants? She’s not little, she's a woman” Ophelia asked confused. The gears were visibly turning in Eddie's brain as he thought over how best to explain it, he couldn't exactly tell his almost 5 year old daughter that her mom couldn’t waltz around in skirts that he barely considered an actual article of clothing and tops that reveal the things that are only for his eyes to see. “Um… well” he was fighting for words. “Because sometimes Daddy forgets that I’m not little like you” you interrupted, booping Ophelia's nose to earn a light giggle “So he forgets that it's not okay for him to tell me how to dress” even though your voice is soft you shoot Eddie a hard glare giving him insight into how you were actually feeling about him at the moment.

Eddie rolled his eyes again and sat back in his chair, bringing the black ceramic up to his lips. “But listen Ophi, ok this is very important” you lent forward to catch her eye “When you become a big girl and same goes for your sister, if someone other than me or your daddy ever tells you what you can and can't do you have to come to us, and tell us ok?” Ophelia nodded in understanding “Especially if it's a boy ok? Because it's very important that you remember that you are your own person, and that no one can tell you how to dress ok?” Ophelia nodded again “You gonna come tell us if that happens?” “Yeah” Ophelia nodded happily as you sat back to mimic Eddie and bring your own coffee cup up to your lips and your eldest began her meal again.

You recognised Eddie's face as he stared unfocused behind you, he was clearly mulling something over by the looks of it arguing with himself in his mind. Under any other circumstances you would ask him “Penny for your thought princess?” in some corny southern british accent, but today you simply didn't want to know.

Ophelia seemed not to notice the tension between her two parents as she told you both about a strange dream she had where Eddie’s guitar had turned into an airplane and she had flown off with her friend Louise Harrington in it, both you and Eddie humoring her as she spoke with mouthfuls of cheerios. Soon enough she was situated under a blanket with various stuffed animals and a bottle of water on the couch to watch her morning cartoons next to three year old little Roxette who munched on some cut up slices of toast by Eddie and sat watching intently as bright colors lit up the screen.

As Eddie got Ophelia and Roxette settled you pulled yourself upstairs with the intent of a shower and a fresh change of clothes, but decided to belly flop head first into the soft pillows of your bed, almost dozing off as the door next to your right opened. You didn't bother looking up as you heard Eddie close the door carefully and tiptoed around the bed to his own side, under the impression that you had passed out but was instantly startled as you awkwardly turned your head to press your cheek into the pillows, facing Eddie as he was about to climb back into bed himself.

Your voice was muffled against the pillow as you spoke, “Come to shout about what a massive slut I am again?” Eddie cringed as he heard you, he took a deep breath before sitting down next to you, his back to the headboard. “No..” he sighed “You sure? Or would you maybe prefer attention seeking.. whore? Was it? No no wait, seeking attention like some common whore, that's what it was” Eddie shrunk in on himself as you repeated the words he had shouted at you in fury the night before, you knew Eddie would come around, you knew he would apologize, but this particular time you felt he had really crossed a line so you had no problem sprinkling some salt in his wounds.

“Baby.. I’m sorry” he whispered as he leaned over to place a hand on your back and rub it up and down. “Mmmm” you sarcastically hummed “I-I really shouldn't have said that, I was being an absolute dick” at that you hummed in agreement, face still half smushed into the pillows as you looked up at him. “I just, you know how I feel about Billy.. I already don't want him around you, and when I saw you come home like that I just knew he was probably lapping it up” a roll of your eyes “But I took my anger out on the wrong person, I’m really sorry” Eddie moved down the bed to lie on his side as his hand continued rubbing up and down your back.

“Mhm and?” you looked at him as his face was now level with yours “And..” he breathed fighting a roll of his eyes, he knew what you were doing “I just thought about you know if Ophelia or Roxette ever comes home with a boyfriend” “mhm” you coaxed him on “I wouldn't be that happy to know he was telling them what to wear” you broke out into a wide smug grin, even though there were a few more things to unpack about yesterday, an apology was all you needed for the moment.

“Yup” you popped the ‘p’ even more smug, this time Eddie did actually roll his eyes but a playful grin tugged at his lips. “But” Eddie’s face suddenly went serious “I would… appreciate if maybe you don't wear those kinds of outfits around, at least Billy in the future” he was feeling sheepish at his request. “In my defense” you pushed yourself up to lay your head on your crossed forearms “I didn’t actually know Billy was gonna be there” you grinned “also if I knew that, do you seriously think I would have worn that?” Eddie chuckled “Yeah ok no, that's true” another smug hum of approval. “Mmmm but why you gotta wear that stuff anyway” he started of with a hint of a whine “Who you tryna impress when you have a big hunky husband with the biggest dick you've ever set your eyes on” a loud snort rang through the room as you turned to lie on your side, letting Eddie scoot closer and wrap his arms around you.

“Maybe I’m tryna impress my boss, ya know get myself a sweet promotion, or maybe that so called big dick you pride yourself just isn't cutting it anymore” you nuzzled your face into his bare chest as it vibrated with laughter “Well first of all you are the boss, hate to break it to ya butchya’ can’t really get promoted babe, second whatchu’ talkin’ ‘bout woman, just last morning you were drooling over it” you rolled your eyes as a big amused smile spread across your face.

“Well now you're just lying, I was not drooling”

“Oh Eddie! Oh Eddie god! Oh my god! AAUUH Ugh! Your cock is so big oh my goood! Fuck Eddie yes! Yes! YEEES!” Eddie's voice turned into an awfully high pitched imitation of a girl's voice as he whispered as to not let the girls hear, whole body shaking with you in his grasp to get his point across further.

“Oh my god shut up!” you clasped a hand around his mouth which Eddie easily pulled away to kiss at your knuckles “I’m getting a divorce” you giggle as you cozy up to Eddie.

335 notes · View notes

marvelnatr · 8 months

Text

Hello Loves!! This is going to be a little space one shot!!

Summary: Natasha and Wanda had to stay late for a meeting at the compound and when it’s over they take you home and get you to bed

Warnings: cute fluff, mommyNat, MamaWanda, little!R, breastfeeding

Wanda’s POV:

Y/N shifted in my arms as Fury moved onto his last topic. We had been here for hours debriefing and dissecting our last mission. We recovered so much information and Nat and I were the ones to recover it so we had to be there. The clock has just hit 11:37 pm. Y/N finally went down forty five minutes ago after which felt like trying to coax her forever. I rested my chin gently on her head as I smoothed over Natashas leather jacket we laid over Y/N to keep her warm. She began to fuss again and Nat glanced over at her, worried. We had totally messed up and didn’t grab her little bag. In our offense we thought we still had out extra one in the Quinn jet. Y/N’s fussing increased and I lightly rocked her. The fussing continued till I gently placed my pinky finger between her lips to suckle on. Smiling softly down at her as Nat trailed her index finger over her furrowed brow. Y/N’s expression softened as she feel deep into sleep once again. Once I knew she was settled I looked back up at Fury paying attention to what he was sharing. Nat glanced over at me. She could tell I was so tired and I just wanted to be home. Shifting in her seat she reached her arm over the back of my chair listening to Fury.

After what seemed to be another 45 minutes we were finally dismissed. Fury apologized for keeping us so late he just needed to make sure it was safe for cleanup crew to enter the field so no one saw it by morning. We walked out if the building. Y/N was dead fucking weight on me. Y/N was never heavy, no that wasn’t the problem. Do you know how hard it is to maneuver someone who is so knocked out they wont control their own limbs? Lemme tell you its not easy. Gently laying her in the cot on the quinjet we headed home. I gently stroked her face till she settled again then went to the cockpit to see Nat. “Hi my love how is she?” I laid my head back sinking into the seat “shes good, asleep. That was such a long fucking meeting” Nat nodded “I know it was love, we can order from that 24 hour Chinese takeout place” I hummed a response “please, I’m starving” Natasha nodded and told Jarvis to send it on his way. The rest of the team was either already home or helping run cleanup crew tomorrow.

As we landed I went back to Y/N, going to gently pick her up. Natasha gently whispered “I’ve got her love just go ahead out, we can clean our weapons in the morning” I nodded and kissed her cheek then grabbed our food, heading straight to our room. Nat followed behind me with Y/N sleeping in our arms. Just as we closed the door Y/N started to stir “mommy? Mama?” I smiled gently at Y/N and her beautiful big eyes. She looked so adorable with her head rested on my wife’s shoulder “hi pumpkin, you should go back to sleep” she shook her head “no mama, I missed chu” I cooed gently at her “oh i know little dove but little girls like you should be asleep” fussing slightly she tugged at Nat “hungry mommy”. Nat gently held her hand “okay my love, lets get you settled then you can nurse” Y/N sleepily nodded, keeping her head rested on Nats shoulder.

Nat gently laid her down in the middle of the bed while we moved around and got her changed and ready for bed. Natasha made quick work of putting her hair into a braid and gently sat in bed with her “alight love come here” patting her lap Y/N gently climbed into it. natasha pulled down her emerald green pajama top and let Y/N latch on and suckle. As I picked a show she started eating her food and leaning on me. I love when she’s affectionate like this. It melts my heart

Natasha’s POV:

Y/N gently nursed as I stroked her hair occasionally. Few things worked on her when it came to getting our precious girl to sleep but when you used them they worked real good unless she was sick. I gently ran my finger over face, lightly tracing the bridge of her nose, jawline and chin. I relaxed when I felt her getting heavier in my lap. Her sucking slowing to a stop. Gently I laid her between Nat and I, giving her her bear and pulling out a paci from the drawer beside me. Gently placing it in between her lips I whispered “shes asleep” Wanda nodded “good job my love” I smiled and kissed Wanda. She was always so kind to me. One of my love languages was words of affirmation and she totally utilizes it. We watched TV while I gently rubbed Y/N’s tummy. Letting out a yawn I glanced over at the clock. At this point it was around 2:30 am. Wanda was asleep with her hand over Y/N’s hip. Y/N was backed up into me with her paci loosely hanging between her lips. She never failed to melt my heart. Turning off the TV I cuddled into her kissing both of my girls goodnight and drifting off into sleep.

I mayyyy be making a discord server for yall🤭

#caregiver #mommy wanda #mommy nat #agere little #natahsa romanoff #wanda x nat x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #breastfeeding #marvel fanfiction #natasha x reader

225 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 6 months

Text

Heartbeat on the Highline

She knew it was a fine line between being his wife and being his employee, and it was something she usually walked well. Balancing on it like it was a tightrope, a well-practised routine. But she felt like she’d tripped, like she was freefalling, and as much as she wanted him to catch her, to be the safety net she always claimed she didn’t need.

AKA, the one in which Emily and Aaron get a call that their daughter has had to go to hospital whilst they are away on a case.

-x-

Hi besties <3

This is a fic I started a long time ago and never really got anywhere with beyond one particular scene, but I finally reopened the document today and finished it.

This fic brings my total word count to 1,736,161...which is more than the entire Game of Thrones book series (1,736,054) . Which is ridiculous and amazing and...just about everything in between. If George R. R. Martin ever actually releases the next book in A Song of Fire and Ice I guess I'll just have to beat him again!!

Thank you so much for your continued support of my writing, it means the absolute world. As long as y'all are here reading, I'll be here thinking of new things to put these two through!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Sick child, hospitals

Words: 4.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily grimaces as she takes a sip of her coffee, looking down at the mug in her hand with disdain as she swallows.

“Leaves a lot to be desired, doesn’t it?”

She smiles as she looks up at her husband, “It’s not the worst we’ve ever had,” she mumbles, taking another sip and grimacing at the bitterness, “But it’s up there.”

It had been a long day that had started with a phone call from Penelope before dawn. They were dragged out of sleep and their bed for a case. Aaron had called Jessica to ask her to come over to look after the kids as Emily got ready for the day, distracted partway through her make-up routine by their toddler crying out for her. Ines had been grumpy, the 18-month-old’s usual happy demeanour nowhere to be found as she demanded her mother’s attention, her slightly too warm forehead against Emily’s neck as she refused to be put back down.

As they’d left the house and she’d handed her little girl over to Jessica she explained that Ines had a bit of a temperature. Familiar guilt had lingered in her belly all day, the reality of balancing her love for her job and her love for her children something she was never sure she got right. Leaving behind her daughter when she wasn’t quite herself made her heart feel heavy, a weight in her chest that she knew wouldn’t lessen until she was home again.

Aaron smiles at her and nods towards the front of the bullpen, “Come on, the sooner we deliver the profile, the sooner we catch this guy. And then we can go home.”

She nods and downs the rest of her coffee, putting her mug down before she follows her husband. She stops as her phone rings from her pocket and she pulls it out, her momentary joy at her wallpaper, a picture of Jack and Ines cuddled together on the couch, is immediately squashed. She feels a sense of dread when she sees Jessica’s name appear on her cellphone screen. It roots her to the spot, her limbs heavy, her grip on her phone tightening as everything else around her fades out, the sound of the rest of the team delivering the profile muffled as if she was behind glass.

They had a routine. If they were away on a case Jessica would always send a text to check if they were free before she called so Emily and Aaron could say goodnight to Jack and Ines when they were away on a case. They would step away from whatever they were doing, she and Aaron huddled together around one of their phones as they spoke to their children just before they went to bed, an ache in her chest that Emily learnt never quite went away when one of them told her they missed her.

This was different. It was only 5.45 pm, too early for either of them to be going to bed, even Ines, the 18-month-old well known for being occasionally defiant for anyone other than Emily when it came to bedtime.

She shakes her head at herself, ridding herself of thoughts she’s sure are an overreaction and she briefly looks up, her gaze catching Aaron’s. She tilts her head towards the hallway she’s near and holds up her phone to tell him she has to take a call. He nods, his smile as reassuring as it was subtle, something only she would ever be able to pick up on. She answers as she steps away, not wanting the call to ring out, her instincts that something was wrong still vibrating under her skin.

“Jess, hi,” she answers, looking back over her shoulder to make sure she’s far enough away from everyone else that she won’t be overheard, “Is everything ok? You don’t usually call this early.”

“Emily,” Jessica replies, and Emily immediately knows she’s right, that something has happened. Her training and profession both a blessing and a curse as she picks up on the poorly concealed concern in the other woman’s voice, “I’m so sorry to have you call you and tell you this, but Ines is in the hospital.”

Emily feels like all of the air has been stolen from her lungs. Her breath catches in her chest, hooking onto her ribs in a way thats painful. She leans against the wall she’d been standing near, suddenly not trusting her legs to hold her up. Her shoulders press into the plaster, the coolness of it through her shirt barely registering.

Something was wrong with her little girl and she was hours away from her. “Wh…what?” She asks, her voice hoarse. “What happened, is she hurt?”

“No, she didn’t hurt herself,” Jessica says, her voice calmer now, naturally falling into the role of the caretaker she often filled, clearly picking up on Emily’s unusual display of panic, “She spiked a fever and I couldn’t get it down with Tylenol or anything else and,” she pauses, blowing out a breath before she continues, “She had a seizure.”

Whatever she thought Jessica was going to say it wasn’t that. Her stomach churns and she immediately feels sick, the distance between herself and home further than it had ever felt, the guilt she felt for leaving, even for work, when she’d known Ines wasn’t entirely herself that morning overwhelming.

“Oh my God,” Emily exclaims, her hand coming to cover her mouth, her nausea climbing up her throat. Before she can say anything else Jessica continues, giving her more details she doesn’t know how to ask for.

“The doctors said she’s okay, it was brought on by the fever. It seems to be an ear infection and they are treating it now, they are also going to do other tests to make sure it isn’t anything else.”

“Okay,” Emily says, her throat dry, all of her efforts channelled into not bursting into tears in the middle of a police precinct. She clears her throat and swallows thickly, pushing down the bile that feels like it’s climbing up her throat, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, can you stay with her until I get there?”

She knows she doesn’t have to ask, that Jessica considers Ines as her niece as much as Jack is her nephew, but she does because she can’t think of what else to say.

“Of course,” Jessica says, “I’ll text you the details of where we are.”

“Thank you,” Emily breathes out, trying to steady herself, her nerves frayed to the point where they might snap. She’s immediately hit by another thought, cursing herself for not thinking of her son sooner, “Fuck, is Jack ok? Was he there when she…”

She drifts off, sure if she said outloud that her daughter, her baby, had had a seizure she would fall apart right there. That pieces of her would spill out onto the coffee-stained carpet beneath her feet, something she couldn’t let happen until she saw her little girl, until she made sure she was okay.

“He saw it happen,” Jessica says carefully, “He was scared but he’s okay now Ines is ok, he’s in there now reading to her.”

Emily chokes out a laugh that sounds strangled, caught in her throat in all of the fear lodged there, and she nods despite the fact Jessica cannot see her.

“Good, I’m glad he’s okay,” She blows out a steady breath and she looks up as she hears footsteps, her smile tight as she sees her husband enter the hallway she’d sought solitude in.

Regret fills her chest at the thought of what she has to tell him and she turns her attention back to Jessica on the other end of the phone. “I should go, but let me know if anything else happens ok?”

“Of course.”

Emily later wouldn’t remember if she said goodbye to Jessica, or anything beyond turning so she’s looking at Aaron properly, his eyebrows creased as he picks up on her demeanour, how something was clearly wrong.

“Em?” He asks, stepping closer to her. His hand reaches out and wraps around hers, linking their fingers together in a way he usually wouldn’t at work, instantly providing comfort that she never has to ask for. He was always there, ready and waiting, aware of her needs often before she was, “Is everything okay?”

She shakes her head in response. “No,” she swallows thickly and squeezes his hand in return, “It isn’t,” she clenches her teeth and presses her lips together, determined not to lose her composure, “That was Jess, Ines is sick. She’s in hospital.”

It feels like a jolt of electricity, a rush of adrenaline that makes him feel frozen in place, sending a shiver up his spine. His stomach churns, the mere mention of his little girl being unwell enough makes him feel sick. He looks at his wife and he knows he has to pull it together. She was always the strong one, always the glue that held him together, but he knew their family, their children, were her weak spot. The chink in her impenetrable armour. She was barely holding herself together, the emotions he can see she is desperately trying to hide showing through the cracks in her facade.

He could fall apart later when they knew their daughter was okay, when they were home and by her side.

“What happened?” He asks, stepping closer, making sure he is providing all the comfort he can.

“She has an ear infection, her fever spiked so high she had a seizure,” her voice cracks on the last word and she looks at the ceiling, willing the tears she can feel gathering in her eyes to disappear, “I need to go home, Aaron. I need to see my baby.”

It had never been in any doubt, the logistics of everything already playing out in the back of his mind as he stood there with his wife, “Of course, sweetheart,” he says, cupping her cheek with the hand not linked with his and briefly resting his forehead against hers, “Dave can take point here, we can get a flight-”

She looks at him, moving so fast she feels something pull in her neck, the pain barely registering.

“We can’t both leave,” she says, even though she wants him with her, her words contradicting everything she was feeling, “We’ve barely been here a day.”

“Emily,” he says firmly, pushing down the spark of irritation in his gut at the implication that anything was more important than their family. He knows it’s unfair, that she’s like a frayed nerve right now, so he ignores it, aware she isn’t necessarily thinking straight, “There is no way I’m staying here when our daughter is in hospital. I’m coming with you. Okay?”

She pauses for a moment before she nods, “Okay,” she says, her lower lip trembling, “Can I…can I have a hug?”

It feels pathetic, like a ridiculous thing to ask her husband, but she asks anyway. Unsure what to do in this situation, this collision of their personal and professional lives, any pretence that they weren’t together, their relationship usually a point of interest to local cops if they figured out they were married, shattered on the floor around them.

“Oh Em,” he says, pulling her into a hug, his lips against her temple as she settles into his embrace, “You never have to ask,” he kisses the side of her head and then pulls back, “I’ll go speak to Dave and then we’ll go home to see our little girl.”

She nods, smiling tightly at him as she pulls back, her arms tight across her chest to hold herself together until he can do it for her again.

___

It feels like the longest flight of her life. Longer than the one that had brought her back from Paris, the flight that had brought her back from the dead, out of the place she had been hiding in the shadows for months whilst she waited for her demons to find her.

This is worse. Her fear not for herself, or coming face to face with the man who had torn through her life like it was made of something no stronger than paper, but for her little girl. For her son who had seen his sister get so sick so quickly. It was paralysing in a way she could never have anticipated, as if her heart was outside of her body. Walking around in the form of an 8-year-old boy and an 18-month-old little girl, a price she’d happily pay for the rest of her life in exchange for the joy she felt as a result of being their mother.

As soon as Aaron has parked up outside the hospital she’s out of the car, walking towards the entrance with a determination in her step. Aaron catches up with her, his hand wrapping around hers when he makes it to her side. He squeezes her hand, his fingers linked through hers as they walk into the hospital. They approach the nurse's station, Emily’s shoulders feeling tighter by the second.

“Excuse me,” Aaron says, his smile frustratingly polite despite the circumstances when one of the nurses looks up at him, “Our daughter was brought in earlier, Ines Hotchner?”

The nurse nods, typing on the computer in front of her before she looks back up at them, “She’s been admitted for observation,” she says, smiling reassuringly at them, “Paediatrics is on the fourth floor. She's in room 4102, the elevators are just down the hall.”

“Thank you,” Aaron replies, nodding before he turns around, his arm around Emily’s shoulders as he leads her towards the elevators, “Let’s go see our little girl.”

They take the stairs, both too anxious to wait for the elevator now they are so close. They give Ines’ details to the paediatrics desk, and for a moment Aaron is sure he’s going to have to stop his wife from yelling at a nurse for just doing his job when he asks for identification.

Emily takes a moment outside of the room they are directed to, giving herself a second to collect herself, aware that neither Jack nor Ines needed her to be a mess in front of them. Aaron places his hand on his wife’s shoulder, reminding her that he’s there, that he always would be. She puts her hand over his, hoping she can press her gratefulness, her love, from her skin into his.

She never quite had the words for how she felt about him, for how she felt about her life. She’d grown up surrounded by people who never said what they really thought, every word calculated and purposeful. It left her unable to always express herself in the way she desperately wanted to, the words I love you never feeling enough. Not even scratching the surface of how much she loved him and their children, how she would burn the world down to protect them.

She blows out a breath as she walks in, her heart seizing in her chest as she sees Ines, the toddler seemingly smaller than she usually was in the large bed she was sleeping in. Jack was asleep on the couch in the corner of the room, a blanket pulled over him and his arms hugging a cushion to his chest. Jessica turns to face the door as it opens, a relieved smile spreading over her face as she sees Emily and Aaron,

“Hi,” she says as she stands up, walking over and pulling Emily into a brief hug, “I’m so sorry, I should have brought her here sooner.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Emily says, hugging her back, “There’s no way you could have known what would happen.”

Aaron stores the comment away, making a mental note of it to remind her later when she inevitably blames herself for this, forever holding herself to a standard she’d never use against anybody else. Her concerns about turning into her own mother, something he knew was impossible, always lingering just below the surface. Breaking free through barely healed skin, pushing up through an always festering wound, whenever she considered herself a failure as a parent.

Emily disconnects from Jessica and walks over to the bed and sits on the edge of it. She looks at Ines, who, apart from the IV in the back of her hand, her soft skin bruised on her arm where she’d clearly had blood tests. Emily reaches out and brushes some of her unruly hair from her forehead, the softness of it against her fingers easing some of the tightness in her chest.

“The doctor said she’s fine, she should be able to go home tomorrow,” Jessica says, and Emily turns to look at her.

“Thank you, Jess. For looking after her and staying until we could get here,” Aaron says, pulling his former sister-in-law into a hug.

“Of course I stayed,” Jess says, rolling her eyes at him as she pulls back, her voice incredulous, “She’s my niece.”

Emily is about to respond, about to tell Jess how grateful she is regardless, how nice it was to know that her daughter was with someone who loved her until she could be there, but she’s cut off by a tiny voice.

“Mama?”

She turns back to look at Ines, forcing a smile on her face as her eyes meet her daughters, “Hi sweet girl,” she says, stroking her hand over her hair again, “Mama is here,” she says, her voice shaking a little, “How are you feeling?”

Ines shrugs, “Icky.”

Emily chokes on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh and she leans forward to kiss the toddler's forehead, “I’m sorry, baby. Mama is here now,” she says, not sure if she was reassuring herself more with the repetition of her assurance or her little girl. Ines grasps at the collar of her shirt, pulling her towards her with more force than she thought an 18-month-old should have. “Do you want me to snuggle with you?”

“Snuggle,” Ines says, nodding as she tugs on Emily’s shirt even more, and Emily kisses her forehead before she stands, carefully rearranging the little girl in the bed before she joins her. More of the tension in her chest unfurls as Ines leans against her, curling up in her mother’s arms, the little girl releasing a sigh as she rests her forehead against Emily’s neck. Ines looks over at Aaron, her smile wide like it always was when she looked at her father, “Hi Dada.”

“Hi princess,” he says, closing the gap between him and the bed as he leans in to kiss his daughter’s forehead, “Are you feeling better than earlier? Aunt Jessie said you weren’t very well.”

She shrugs, “Head hurt.”

“It’s all better now, though?” Emily asks, lost in her own world with her daughter, her awareness reduced to just the two of them in the bed for a few moments. She smiles as Ines nods against her neck, and she kisses her forehead, “Good. Mama loves you.”

Ines snuggles into her even further, getting heavier as she starts to fall asleep again, her words slurring together.

“Love Mama.”

___

They convince Jack to go home with Jess when he wakes up. It takes a while, the boy resistant to leave his sister’s side, but he eventually relents when they promise he’ll see her tomorrow. Emily and Aaron both stay at the hospital, both of them not wanting to let their little girl out of their sight, the latter using his badge to convince the nurses to let them break the usual ‘one parent overnight’ rule.

Aaron sits next to the bed, his focus on his wife as she watches their daughter sleep, her hand rubbing circles on her back.

He remembered when they found out they were having a girl, the mix of excitement and fear that had crossed over his wife’s face as she asked the doctor to repeat herself something that was burned into his memory. She’d quietly admitted to him later that same day that she was worried history would repeat itself, that she was cursed to be the same as her mother. He’d assured her it wasn’t the case, that she was already a better mother than hers had ever been, that she had been since the moment she’d stepped into that role in Jack’s life.

He knew moments like today she’d focus on the parts that seemingly confirmed her worst fears. That the distance between her and their daughter when she was sick was evidence that she was everything she hadn’t wanted to be. She wouldn’t acknowledge the fact that she’d got to her side as quickly as she could, that she’d glared at the air steward on the plane when he tried to make a joke about her nervous energy, or that she’d left work without even thinking about it. Her children her priority, the most important part of her life, which was something Elizabeth had never seemingly been capable of.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and quiet as he makes sure he doesn’t wake up Ines.

Emily hums and looks up at him, her lips pressed together, “I…” she swallows thickly, “I don’t know,” she says honestly, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop herself from crying. She presses her lips together and her chin shakes, the emotions that had only been skin deep all evening finally starting to escape, “I wasn’t here, Aaron. She needed me and I wasn’t here.”

It feels like her chest cracks open, the pressure of everything she’d stuffed in there breaking free, her ribs aching as she tries, and fails to suppress a sob.

“Oh, Em,” he says softly, encouraging her to stand up, helping her lay Ines down on the bed so she stays asleep. He wraps his arms around his wife and leads her over to the couch, tugging her close and holding her tightly. She holds him back just as fiercely, her hands grasping fistfuls of his jacket as she sinks into him, her cheek against his chest as she keeps her eyes on Ines, her view of the little girl blurred by the constant stream of tears that didn’t seem to be going anywhere how they’d started, “She’s okay. She’s perfectly safe.”

She pulls back to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed, “She had a seizure Aaron,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek to try to feel anything other than the tension in her chest, “Our little girl had a seizure and I wasn’t there. I was working. I knew she wasn’t well this morning, I knew it and I still went to work. What kind of mother does that make me?”

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice firm but kind as he cups her cheek, forcing her to look at him, “You could never have known that would happen. As soon as you knew something was wrong you were on your way here,” he says, stroking her skin, his calluses against her skin soothing, a reminder of his strength, of his love for her, “You’re an excellent mother.”

She sighs, “Honey-”

“I won’t argue with you about this,” he cuts over her, a soft smile on his face, “You’re an excellent mother,” he repeats, “And I know the two youngest Hotchners would agree.”

She chokes out a sound, not sure what to call it herself, and she nods, too tired to argue with him, wanting nothing more than him to be right. She leans forward and presses her forehead into his shoulder, “Thank you for coming with me, I think I would have killed that air steward if you weren’t there.”

“You definitely would have,” he quips, kissing the top of her head as he rubs his palm up and down her back, “And you don’t have to thank me,” he says, encouraging her to look at him, “Our family is always my priority too. No matter what.”

She nods and leans forward, stamping her lips against his. It was moments like this that made her grateful to be the second person who was lucky enough to love him, to build a family with him. That he had learnt from his past, his complete lack of hesitation to come with her today all the proof she would ever need. It isn’t lost on her that he’s held back how he’s feeling, his own fear at their daughter being sick today buried deep in his chest whilst he helped her.

She’d make sure she gave him the space as soon as he needed it, at the first sign that he was letting his well-constructed barriers down.

“I love you,” she says, running her fingers through his hair.

“I love you too,” he says, kissing her before he wipes tears from her cheeks, “Do you want to lay down with her again and try and get some sleep?”

“God yes,” she replies, kissing him once more before she stands up, she looks at the bed and sighs, “I don’t think we’ll all fit.”

“That’s okay,” he says, carefully lifting Ines so Emily can get back into the bed, her shoes kicked off and under the bed, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She frowns at him as he settles Ines back onto her chest, “Honey, your back-”

“It will be okay for one night,” he says, even though they both know it’s not true, “Worth it so I can keep an eye on my girls.”

She rolls her eyes at him as he tucks the sheet around them both, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, smiling softly as Ines shifts in her sleep, “Sweet, but ridiculous.”

He presses a kiss against each of their foreheads and settles in the chair next to the bed, “Get some sleep, baby,” he says, “And tomorrow we’ll take her home and spoil her.”

“You always spoil her,” she murmurs, kissing the top of Ines’s head as she closes her eyes, the smell of her daughter’s hair soothing her.

Aaron chuckles in response, watching as she falls asleep, their daughter safely curled up in her arms, “You’re one to talk.”

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florencremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my taglist here!

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron x emily #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction

45 notes · View notes

juliettedunn · 1 year

Text

Awakening From Nightmares (Part 1)

I loved the nightmare sequences in Watching and Dreaming, but I did wish they were longer, so I present this fic to you. I'm very excited about it and I hope you like it.

It does not strictly follow the apparent rules in canon, so other characters can make appearances and speak, not just ones who are puppets.

CW for this chapter: Ableist rhetoric, including the r slur, references to suicidal ideation, just heavy Luz angst in general

***

Luz awakened slowly, her limbs heavy, bizarrely weighted down by whatever clothes she was wearing. Just a few moments before, she had been holding hands with Amity, showing off her new Palisman. And then…the Collector. They had attacked, everyone had been pulled away. And she…what had happened to her?

A great, rhythmic beating pounded at her ears, rattling her teeth. She blinked past her foggy vision to gaze upward, the light in the room eerie, dim, wrong. A great heart sat suspended above her, greenish, shriveled, and twisted. This heart, that sound, the light…she recognized this room. She was in the Emperor’s throne room.

She sat up quickly. There was no immediate cause for alarm; no one was in sight, but merely being in this room had her sick to her stomach. And she had been in the Titan’s skull; a significant trip from the castle. Groaning, she mumbled to herself, “How did I get here?”

She wobbled to her feet. Her clothes were so thick and heavy, they made it awkward to walk in. Why would…? She glanced down, and the sight of her garment startled her so bad she fell to the floor. The outfit was smaller, to fit her, but she’d know it anywhere. She had gazed at it and the man who wore it only a few times, but she could never forget it. She had watched as the gloves she now wore sliced into a Palisman and squeezed out its insides, as the wearer of this robe stood over her, taunting and sneering, subjecting her and Hunter to the worst experiences of their lives. She was dressed like Belos.

“W-what is this?” she stuttered, clawing at the outfit, though there was no change of clothes in sight. Why would she be dressed like this? Who had… “Is-is this a dream?”

She barely registered a small squeaking sound before there was a louder screech and a sharp pain on her ear. She yelped, but mere moments later a reassuring presence entered her mind. Do not worry, Good Witch, I am here!

The friendly shape of Luz’s Palisman appeared at her shoulder, and Luz felt much of her anxiety ease. “Stringbean, it’s you!”

Stringbean chirped excitedly, then curled into Luz’s hands, a calming, soft weight she could hold. Stringbean certainly felt real, and her Palisman mind connection was perfectly clear. Did that mean this wasn’t a dream?

Regardless, Luz was reassured; she was no longer alone. She gazed at her Palisman adoringly. “You sweet little power noodle, I’m so happy to see you! Are Mamá and the others okay?”

Stringbean’s happiness deflated somewhat. Do not know. Much noise, yelling, fear. Scary lights. Was so confused. Then she brightened again, making a happy rattling sound as she swished her tail. But you are here! And if my witch is here, all is good.

The little snakeshifter was only a baby. She had no idea what was happening, she had only been born mere minutes ago. Luz had to protect her. She stood up and Stringbean settled around her neck, a reassuring weight. The witch and her Palisman smiled at each other. “We’ll figure this out,” said Luz. “It’ll be okay.”

I know we can do it!

Luz swallowed hard, praying Stringbean’s confidence wasn’t misplaced.

The two traversed the halls of the castle. Luz tread softly, ready to dart into action the moment a member of the Emperor’s Coven appeared. But there was only an eerie silence, once the sound of the great heartbeat faded.

All was frighteningly familiar, far too detailed to be a dream. Until she entered the hallway with the great stained glass window, to see that the usual image of Emperor Belos had been replaced with someone who looked strikingly like…her?

“W-what?” she whispered. “Why would…?” The Collector must have changed it, like he had changed so much else, though the light in here wasn’t Collector-esque at all.

Stringbean shifted on her shoulders. Who is that?

“I think it’s supposed to be me.”

Stringbean cocked her head at the image, then looked back to Luz, puzzled. Then she hissed dismissively. Not you. My witch is not like that.

She said it with such nonchalance, like it wasn’t even a question. Could she really not see the resemblance?

“Well, if it’s still the same window I saw when I was last here, the exit is close.”

Sure enough, Luz found the way. The door, bizarrely, was left completely unguarded, opening onto a great drawbridge. Where were the guards?

Stringbean nuzzled her neck and Luz smiled at the reassuring pressure. She wasn’t alone. It was going to be okay.

She stepped out onto the drawbridge, the only course of action she could think of. If she could get out of the castle, she could figure out what exactly was going on.

But as she walked along the drawbridge, there were still no signs of life. “Where is everyone?” The Boiling Isles had been mostly empty, but surely her friends were around? They had to have been transported together.

She peered over the edge of the drawbridge, and her heart shattered. Beneath the bridge were people she had just seen today, just been talking to, all petrified into lifeless statues. Ed and Em…Amity had just been reunited with them! Mattholomule, he had just been showing off his cringey drawn-on beard, and Boscha, as awful as she had been, she didn’t deserve this. Yet here they all were, faces contorted into expressions of terror, clinging to each other, frozen for all eternity. There was no cure for permanent petrification. They were gone.

“No! No, no, no! Wh- When did this happen?” How could it have happened this fast? Had Belos been so quick, to transport them all here and kill them like this? Luz could feel the panic taking over, she had to remain calm, if there was anyone still alive here. How many had he gotten? If he got the people at Hexside, and people who had been turned into puppets, could he have gotten…

“Don’t you remember?” Before the words and tone registered, Luz’s heart was flooded with relief. She’d know the voice anywhere, the most beautiful, comforting voice in the world. Her love, Amity. Luz looked in the direction of the voice, prepared to rush to Amity, make sure she was safe and hold her tight.

But when she saw her, she hesitated. Amity stood at the other end of the drawbridge, silhouetted against the night, clutching her staff while her hair blew gently in the wind. In lighter circumstances, Luz might have joked she looked like an anime villain. She wasn’t looking at Luz. Had she seen the people who had been petrified?

“Amity?”

Amity was looking down with the bitterest expression Luz had ever seen on her. Sure, before Amity and her became friends, the witch had been vitriolic, but it had never seemed real, more like a desperate mask she had been trying to uphold. This, though…this was true hatred.

She had to have seen the petrified bodies, otherwise she wouldn’t have been acting like this, when only a bit before Luz and Amity had been giggling and holding hands, Luz finally allowing herself to get lost in a happy moment.

Luz held out her arms, ready to hold Amity as she sobbed into Luz’s shoulder, but then Amity looked up and spoke once more. “This was all your doing.”

“W-what?”

Amity chuckled bitterly, though tears pricked at her eyes. “I thought you were special, Luz. You were everything to me. And then…you betrayed me.”

“No! No I would never! Amity, I swear, I don’t understand. Please just tell me what’s going on!”

“You act like you don’t know? You helped Belos meet the Collector. Your actions led to this.” She gestured beneath the drawbridge, though Luz didn’t dare look once again.

Amity raised her staff and fixed it at Luz, as if to fend her off. “You've been the real villain this whole time!”

“Wha- Listen, I- I don't know what I missed, but I'd never do this.” Luz hesitated, trying to find some way to explain. Her cloak flapped in the wind and she tore the disgusting garment off, casting it aside. “See?”

Luz stared pleadingly at Amity, but Amity had averted her gaze. Her face, so soft and tender just a short time ago, was filled with the worst hatred Luz could imagine.

“I cared about you. I thought you were cute, funny, smart…you were my universe. I did everything for you. I risked Odalia for you. Do you know what she did to me that night I saved you from the Abomiton? And the night I dyed my hair?” Amity closed her eyes. “But it didn’t matter, I risked it all for you. And then, when you ruined my chance at getting the brawl championship, I didn’t get mad. I listened to you cry about your dad, I picked flowers with you, I never asked for an apology. On the Day of Unity, I dragged you into the human realm. If it hadn’t been for me, you would have died in the skull.” Amity shuddered hard, and her next sentence came out choked, as if she were gagging on her words. “It would have been better if you had.”

Luz couldn’t breathe. It was nothing Luz hadn’t thought of herself, but to hear it from Amity, the safest person she could imagine, that Amity regretted ever saving her…

“No…” Luz whimpered.

“I’ve done nothing but care for you, listen to you, support you, and you’ve repaid me with nothing. You betrayed me. You’re not who I thought you were. I'm sorry, Luz. But I have to take you down.”

She drew a spell circle, summoning a wave of abomination goo. It was all so fast, Luz barely had time to react before Amity rode the wave of goo, holding her staff out.

“Amity, please!”

Luz dodged Amity’s wave, barely having time to catch herself from falling before another attack launched at her.

I will help!

Stringbean transformed into a staff and Luz leaped onto it. What was she going to do? She couldn’t dodge forever, and she couldn’t hurt Amity. That was one thing she was certain of, she could never hurt her. Not more than she already had…

She darted for the castle, Amity in pursuit, but by some miracle the doors swung shut behind her. Luz didn’t know if she had somehow done it with Stringbean’s magic, or if it was just the mysterious workings of this hellish landscape, but she didn’t dwell on it. She had to get as far from Amity as possible.

She flew down a slew of corridors, zigzagging as erratic a trail as she could think of, until it was clear Amity wouldn’t pursue. Once she jumped off her staff, Luz lay against the wall, breathing heavily, fighting the urge to break down and sob. This was all happening so fast, she had no time to process what was going on. She had never believed Amity would say something like that to her, it had to be a dream, but then why was everything so real, why couldn’t she wake up?

Stringbean partially shapeshifted, growing thick, fluffy fur for Luz to bury her face in, rubbing her face against the soft texture. “Th-thanks, Stringbean.”

I will always save you! Stringbean purred.

but…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your special purple witch…she was wrong.

Luz shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I sense she is wrong. She did not want- Stringbean cut off. Good Witch, look!

Luz flinched back as a vine tried to wrap around her foot. “Aah!” She stumbled back, kicking it away, and instinctively reached for her glyphs. But this outfit didn’t carry any; she was defenseless except for Stringbean.

She ran from the vines, only she clearly wasn’t running the way she had come in, because the corridor only grew darker, until she was surrounded by thick trees.

“Trees? What?”

Look!

Luz turned to see the familiar form of Willow, crouched beside a tree. “Willow! Oh Willow, I'm so happy to see you. Do you know what's going on? I just saw Amity, and-”

But Willow wasn’t turning around, and horrible dread returned. When Willow did speak, it was with a calmer rage than Amity’s had been, but no less terrifying. “You know, Luz, my life changed after I met you. I finally believed that there was this big, bright future ahead of myself.”

Finally, she turned to face Luz, staring at her with nothing less than profound disdain. “But that didn't last long, did it?”

Her eyes glowed green, as they had when Luz first met her, only now the rage truly was directed at Luz.

“You destroyed my home and any chance I had at happiness. I have no future now. None of us do.”

“Willow…”

“Did you ever think maybe we were tired? Tired of trying over and over again to help you and support you, when all you did was whine and complain and never get better? While I lost my home, my family? Why are you the one who always has to be taken care of?”

“Willow, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to be a burden, I-I-”

But her words were amounting to nothing; vines were rapidly growing as Willow held her hands out. Luz screamed as the vines reached for her and she darted away once more, Willow in pursuit.

She stumbled into darkness, gasping, until Willow’s vines caught her and wrapped her tight in their hold.

Luz whimpered as thorns dug into her skin, tearing at her when she struggled, before a blinding spotlight flooded her vision.

“Look, everyone. It's good ol' Luz.”

Luz cracked open her eyes, straining against the glare, to see Gus dressed in his Grom outfit, microphone in hand. She struggled against the vines as Willow took her place beside him, both fixing her with vicious glares.

Luz flinched away from their faces, only to grow even more confused as she took in her surroundings. It was her human realm school’s gym. She’d performed plays here; she starred in Romeo and Juliet and had been so sure her extra flair would earn her a good grade and finally please her school. Only, the opposite had happened…

And here were all her classmates from the human realm, mixed in with those from Hexside. They were cheering as Gus strode back and forth across the stage. “And she, just might be, the biggest hypocrite ever.” The audience booed and jeered.

Gus spoke with taunted, twisted jeers, of the type Luz was used to in the human realm. Different once again from Willow and Amity’s rage, but perhaps the worst kind yet. The audience joined him, booing and laughing while she still sat helplessly in Willow’s vines.

“Everyone helped you get back to your mom. Meanwhile, because of you, I'll never see my dad again.”

“Gus, no. I- I- I swear, we'll get him back. We'll get everyone back! I won't stop until we do.”

Gus laughed. “Really? That’s a lot of confidence for a retard.”

She had heard the word in school so many times, sometimes to her face, but mostly whispered behind her back, accompanied with giggles and disdainful stares. The words that had accompanied her first rejection.

Who would want to date a retard? Why would anyone be friends with a spaz?

“G-Gus?” She hated the way her voice trembled, but Gus and Willow were the first real friends she had. Sure, her mom had scheduled playdates when she was young, but the other kids didn’t truly want to play with her.

Willow and Gus had chosen to hang out with her, to stick by her side, before anyone else did. They didn’t think she was stupid. They loved her. Had she really messed up so bad, that they now thought this?

Gus looked at her coldly. “What, do you deny it?“

“Yes, I’m-I’m not stupid."

She wasn't, her brain just worked differently, like Gus's...or she had thought. But Gus, for all his differences, was a prodigy. He was smart, he had probably never struggled in any school. Did he truly look down on her like this? They had never broached the subject, she had always been proud of him, but...

A sinisterly familiar voice spoke now, and she squeezed her eyes shut in shame. Her human realm principal appeared on stage. “So you just weren’t trying? No fun fantasy adventure to keep you occupied, so you thought you could slack off?”

“No, I-I want to do good! I want to do better, I just don’t know how, I don’t know why it’s so hard!”

“Not paying attention, slacking through school, embarrassing yourself in front of the whole class. You realize how much your mother puts up with? She’s coddled you far too long.”

“I’m sorry. I can be better, I swear!”

Gus gave her a hard shove and she fell into darkness, half-expecting her life to come to a sudden, dramatic end as she hit the ground.

Instead, she continued floating in darkness, before a familiar voice came to her.

“I don’t know what to do!” said Camila.

“Mamá!”

Luz couldn’t see her anywhere, there was just darkness, and Camila continued as if she couldn’t hear Luz at all. “I’m trying so hard to support her, but she just won’t stop. I’ve done everything I can think of, why can’t she just get better? Even a little? I can’t deal with this, I can’t do it without Manny. I’m so tired.”

These words weren’t made up; Luz had overheard them one night, creeping down the stairs to get a glass of water, only to find her mom crying on the phone to Luz’s aunt. Luz had vanished before Camila ever saw, but the words imprinted on her mind forever. She hadn’t realized how much she was hurting her mom, and she vowed to stop, only somehow, no matter how much conviction she had, she never could do it. The principal remained angry, remained punishing her and calling Camila in a rage, she continued to be the pariah among the other kids, sometimes in a humorous, laughingstock sort-of way, sometimes the subject of rage.

She tried to stop, she could feel everyone’s disappointment, the anger, but somehow, no matter what happened, what she went through, she could never be like the other kids, never settle down and just do her work, never just get better.

“Mamá, I’m trying, I’m trying so hard. I…I…”

She finally hit the ground, rolling to a stop on a cold stone floor, somehow unharmed.

Good witch! Loving mother not here. All wrong.

“No, Stringbean, I’m wrong. All those things…they weren’t made up. They happened before.”

But heard! Heard loving mother talk mistakes. Help me hatch.

The snakeshifter pressed her forehead against Luz’s, and Luz gasped as the conversation she and Camila had not an hour ago entered her head, interspersed with brilliant light and color.

Share memories, said Stringbean. This I remember.

Luz’s heart raced, her own emotions during the conversation mixed with Stringbean’s, as the Palisman finally awakened, connected to her witch’s purpose, blasting into the world with a powerful wave of excitement and hope.

“I…I remember too…” Camila had said she went through what Luz did. She had apologized, even after everything she had done for Luz since, she had said Luz’s mistakes were okay, she understood. Understood. She wasn’t mad, she wasn’t disappointed. She was proud. And Luz believed it.

Luz took several deep breaths. “You’re right. She did say that. I…” She gulped. “I need to find my way out of here. I don’t -“

“Help!”

Luz froze. That voice…but Vee wasn’t here! She was safe, safe in the human realm!

“Vee?” Luz desperately searched for the source of the noise. No one was acting right, everything was wrong and she didn’t know what was real or what wasn’t, but if there was any chance her sister was actually in danger, she had to be there to protect her.

It didn’t take long to find her. The paths and landscape remained wildly inconsistent, ever shifting, but somehow Luz found herself in what appeared to be a dark dungeon, lined with cells. And there was Vee chained to the wall, curled weakly on the floor in basilisk form.

“Vee!”

Luz held out her hand and Stringbean dutifully transformed into a staff, blasting at the metal bars to disintegrate them.

Luz knelt by Vee’s side, but her sister flinched away, looking at Luz with a terror Luz had only glimpsed a fraction of when she first met Vee and she had been caught in the snare.

“Vee, it’s okay. It’s me, Luz.”

“I-I know who you are,” Vee stuttered. The confident happiness that had grown in her voice over the summer months was gone, replaced by complete terror.

“I’m going to get you out of here.”

“You got me in here!”

Luz should have expected it, but it still hurt. “Vee, I know everyone’s saying stuff like this, but I swear -”

“Why did you do it? Why did you help my tormentor?”

“I was tricked!”

“You brought him here! You brought him to Gravesfield, my safe place! The only place I ever felt at home, where I could just be! I was happy. I was so happy, I had my own room, a loving mom, everything you had that you threw away like it was nothing. Just an annoyance you could abandon for a fantasy adventure. Well it was everything to me, and then you brought that monster to it. You brought him to me.” Vee shuddered. “Why couldn’t you just leave us all alone? Let me have a happy family, finally?”

“Vee, I know I messed up, but please, just let me get you out of here. Let me help you get back to Mamá.”

She reached for the chain, but another voice called out. “Luz? Vee?”

Hunter. Hunter was safe, if anyone was. Hunter had known her secret, and he had shared his. They were united. Hunter would understand.

“Hunter!"

Hunter approached, and for a moment, his face was soft, open, and she thought she finally had something safe. Then his gaze took in her outfit, and it flashed with horrific fear.

“No,” he choked. “G-get away.”

“Hunter, no! I don’t want to be wearing this! It’s me, Luz!”

“Why…why would you be dressed like this?”

“I don’t know!” She looked around. Somehow, without her realizing, their surroundings had changed once again, and they were at the castle once again, though outside. The dungeon was gone, and Vee with it.

A towering statue of Flapjack sat in the distance. She cringed at the sight of the large crack in its wing. Hunter turned to look too, and his hands curled into fists. “I've always just— followed orders. I never thought about making friends or— going to school. Then I met Flapjack. He was more than a palisman. He was my best friend. And then I lost him, helping you! And you still get to have your own Palisman? Why, Luz? Why do you get to have it all?”

His wrathful gaze flicked to Stringbean, and Luz shielded her protectively.

Hunter grit his teeth. “Are you worried about me hurting a Palisman?"

“Hunter, no, I -“

“As if you’re not the one who got Flapjack killed. As if you’re not the human who came here and thought she deserved it all. Taking everything from us without a thought. For all the help I gave you, you didn’t believe me! You told me it was all in my head, that I was crazy! But I was right, he was back, and now you’re dressed as him? How long until you start eating Palisman too?”

“What? H-Hunter, I would never!”

“Yeah, well, I never thought the person I trusted most, the one who called me family, would just not believe me, right up until it got my best friend killed. I guess people surprise us.”

Luz tried to step toward him, comfort him as he dropped to his knees and sobbed. But he cried out at the sight of her. “No, please! Leave me alone!”

She looked for somewhere to flee. Hunter wasn’t attacking her, but he was terrified, quickly entering a panic state. She stumbled away, breathing heavily, as her own panic took hold.

Not him! said Stringbean. I cannot feel my kin in him.

“W-what do you mean?”

My kin. The red bird. He is not there. All these people. They are all empty.

Luz wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe it so bad, but as confusing and dream-like as this world was, they sounded like her friends, had the memories of her friends, and what they were saying was true.

Except for the part with her mom. It was true, but not the full story. Camila was proud of her, she knew it. If no one else was, Camila stuck by her. And that memory Stringbean had shared was still there, lending her strength.

She wasn’t left with much more time to ponder. Amity, Willow, and Gus stepped forward, standing in front of Hunter protectively.

“I'm sorry,” said Amity. “But for the sake of everyone you hurt—" She pointed her staff at Luz.

“Please. No.” Luz wouldn’t fight her. She couldn’t. If Amity attacked Luz, then she would die. She closed her eyes and turned away; she didn’t want to see the hatred in her love’s eyes as she ended her life.

“I challenge you…”

Luz’s heart squeezed. Was Amity really going to use something so special to them both, special to their relationship, against her?

“...to a witch’s battle!”

Wait, what? Despite everything going on, the wrongness of the words registered. Luz was so familiar with the quote, she had finished it in her own head before Amity had even gotten the sentence out, and now Amity had messed it up?

Luz had to talk Amity down from hijacking her social media account when Amity happened to see an internet user state a media illiterate take on the Azura series. Amity could diagram every character’s convoluted family tree in Azura perfectly. Like Luz, she knew Witchtongue by heart, in all the dialects. It was one of the greatest joys in their relationship, the kind of joy only shared between two neurodivergent people bonding over a special interest. So to get one of the most iconic quotes of the whole series incorrect…

“Wait. Say that again.”

“I said, I challenge you to a witch's battle!”

Of all the things, Luz didn’t know why this stuck out to her. She had long realized that this world wasn’t making sense, it couldn’t be real, but she had thought, somehow, these might be her friends’ true feelings. But this couldn’t be Amity.

“A- a witch's battle?” She stepped toward Amity, and as she did Stringbean left her staff. See! Special purple witch is wrong.

Luz looked into Amity’s eyes, usually filled with fierce, stubborn light. But now, on closer inspection, they were…dead. This wasn’t her. It wasn’t her.

Luz cupped Amity’s face and squished it, half-expecting it to fall apart and reveal the illusion. She couldn’t resist reciting a little teasing routine she had made up with Amity. “Bap.”

She flicked her ears, and they bounced up and down like the spring of a doorstopper, though Amity’s face didn’t react at all. “Boop.”

Internally, Luz was shaking, but as each second passed, her confidence increased. “You look like Amity.” She gently lifted Amity’s arm. “You feel like Amity.”

She took Amity’s hand. Her hands were always cold, but this was unusually cold, a frigidity unknown to her before. “But you're not Amity, are you?”

She laughed, trying not to cry from relief. It was so obvious. Why had she accepted this was some kind of strange dreamscape, but not the possibility that her friends weren’t really themselves? “You're not her! None of you are you!”

“How dare you?” Willow snapped. “Of course we're us!"

“It's ‘I challenge you to a witch's duel,’ not ‘witch's battle.’ And the Amity I know would never misquote The Good Witch Azura.”

Stringbean transformed into her staff form, and Luz, despite her body still trembling, felt resolved. This was some kind of dreamscape, a nightmare designed to trap her in her worst memories and fears. It was a trope she was familiar with; how had she not guessed from the start? This was the Collector’s doing.

She took a confident stance in front of the cheap imitations of her closest friends. “So come on. Attack me. I know what’s going on now.”

They rushed forward, and Luz instinctively closed her eyes, prepared for the attack. But the footsteps stopped, and nothing touched her.

Luz’s eyes opened to see Ghost’s staff form inches from her face, pink strings wrapped around the cat’s neck. She stepped back, only to see the entire group bound by these strings.

Amity looked up and gasped. Something indefinable shifted in her eyes, the spark returned to them, they were no longer dead. “Luz?”

The love was back, Luz could hear it. She did what she had been dying to do since she first saw Amity here, and placed her hand gently upon her girlfriend’s cheek. “Amity, is that you? Is it really you?”

Amity was trembling, straining against the strings trying to pull her back. “Yes! Luz, everything I said, it-it was lies! We've all been collected, including Camila. The Collector came from the sky, and-”

Gus broke in. “He's playing games with you, Luz. He's trying to keep you away from King and Eda!”

“But if you want to save everyone, you have to wake up!” Willow said, as all three struggled to maintain their positions. There wasn’t much time; they were about to be taken away.

“How?” If the Collector had truly gotten them all, transformed them into puppets, then she was alone. How could she do this?

Hunter spoke now, his voice still achey and sad, but the gentle nature she knew had been in him all along had truly emerged now. “Think about it. What's the first thing you do when you wake up from a bad dream?”

Amity placed her shaking hand in Luz’s, and Luz resisted the urge to cling to her forever. There were only moments left, she had to relish this last bit of contact.

She looked down to see that Amity had given her a light glyph. The very first glyph Luz had ever learned, the glyph she used when she first started to break through Amity’s walls. She still remembered the pride she felt at its discovery. It was the first time she really felt she was good at something useful. The glyphs were something that came naturally to her, the patterns and imagery, the connection with the lands all made so much sense in her head. Not that she didn’t have to work, far from it, but when she studied and learned and invented, she could feel her brain light up, a language she truly knew. No one mocked her, she wasn’t stupid, or lazy, she was understood, and through these glyphs, she had reached so many others.

And while she loved all the glyphs she had discovered, but this, this was her glyph.

Belos used glyphs too, but he had said himself how difficult they were to find, how he had to control and force them into submission, like he did to the very lands themselves. The glyphs and the land were one, after all.

Luz, she had found them out of her passion, her way of seeing the world, and she had made them work. She had created something to be proud of. Now she knew what Stringbean meant, when they looked together at the stained glass painting. She was wearing Belos’s robes, but she wasn’t like Belos. Even at her worst mistakes, she never wanted to control and dominate.

She still cringed at the knowledge that she had shared the glyphs with him. She couldn’t erase that awful mistake, she didn’t know if she could ever feel okay about it. Sometimes, she wished her friends really did hate her. But they didn’t. Like Stringbean, when they looked at her they didn’t see a villain. They loved her, and after all this, they trusted her.

She looked up at Amity and smiled, trying to blink back the tears that were already obscuring her vision. Her friends smiled back, all of them looking at her with so much trust. She held onto the moment as long as she could, before the group suddenly sagged, eyes deadening into lifeless puppets once more. They were dragged into the sky, disappearing without a trace, and she was alone.

She dropped to her knees. Of all the things that could have happened next, Stringbean nipped Luz on the ear again.

“Ow! Hey, what was that for?”

Told you it was wrong. Said so many times, you did not believe! Why?

“I’m sorry, Stringbean. I guess I just…I don’t know. I felt like I deserved what was happening. I was upset that they weren’t mad at me, I wanted them to yell at me, in a way. It’s something I’m working through. I should have known my friends wouldn’t treat me that way. You knew and you only met them like an hour ago.”

Heard much talk in egg. Come whispering to me.

“I know, I talked to you a lot. I’m glad you could hear.”

Not just you! Friends too!

“What?”

Yes! All friends say things to me! They make me promise.

“P-promise to what?”

Protect you! Keep sharp eye and make sure you are okay! Do not hurt yourself. Stringbean nuzzled Luz, and like before, the snakeshifter’s memories projected into Luz’s head, hazy, muffled sounds, but still easily comprehensible.

“You’re already so loved. Luz would do anything for you, make sure you protect her too. She’s so hard on herself, she needs a good friend like you. I’m so excited to see what a precious little baby you’ll look like.”

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m scared for Luz. She’s done so much for me, she changed my life. I’m too scared to say it out loud, but I…I love her. And now she’s distant, and I don’t know what’s going on, I can’t reach her. I’m scared she’s going to do something she can’t take back. When you do wake up…well, I know you’ll keep her safe, you’re her Palisman. But…please try to wake up soon. You won’t regret it, you couldn’t have asked to be a better witch’s Palisman.”

“Wow, I-I’ve never seen a Palisman like this. I didn’t even know it could be done this way! You’re, uh…pretty special. But I guess that makes sense. Luz, she doesn’t do things conventionally. Neither do I, actually. We’re both kind of weird for witches. I bet you hear everything that’s going on right now, and…well, it’s not great. But, Flap does such a good job taking care of me, I know you’ll do the same for Luz. She deserves a friend like I have.”

“Hey sweet little egg. I understand it’s taking you a while to hatch. You know, I actually took a while to come out of my shell, too. But Luz, she helped me gain confidence when no one else saw how powerful I was. And she…well, I think she needs someone like that, now. She’s pushing the rest of us away…maybe you can be that for her? I hope you can make her understand how important she is to all of us, even if we haven’t been as close these days. I hope we can be closer again.”

“Emmeline, that is not food! Sorry little guy. I know you’re doing your best, huh? We all are…take care of Luz, okay? We might not be the closest in the friend group, but she means a lot, you know? She has a lot of self doubt, and I know that feeling. I don’t like seeing her get so stuck in her own head, like I do…Also, with all this time you’re making us wait, you better be the most badass Palisman anyone’s ever seen. No pressure though.”

“I don’t know much about Palismen, I never really got the chance to learn much in the demon realm. But I know you’re really important to my sister. You’re probably scared of coming out, huh? It’s a crazy time, but…well, she’ll be there for you, just like she’s there for everyone. No matter what you look like. I wasn’t sure about her at first, and I felt awful for taking her place, but she and Camila welcomed me. We’re a family. I never thought I’d have something like that. Not just a mom, but a sister, too. You’ll be an amazing Palisman.”

As the memories ended, Luz looked into Stringbean’s happy, smiling face. “I…this is real?”

Yes! All said that for you! Stringbean wiggled excitedly, rattling as she did. Somehow, the snake never seemed to stay worried for long.

“I…wow, I…” She hiccupped. “That means a lot. I shouldn’t have pushed them away like that. It was so stupid, I-” She caught herself. “No, it’s okay. They believe in me.” She stood up, letting out a shuddery breath. “I’m going to make things better. As soon as I see them again.”

I did a good job protecting you like they asked!

“Yeah, Stringbean.” Luz wiped her eyes. “You did.”

Luz, at fourteen years old, had made a mistake. One made because of a man who was so twisted and evil, he sacrificed the lives and souls of others to fuel his own, clinging to that life with hatred and spite. A man who manipulated and tortured for hundreds of years.

Luz had thought she was above such manipulation. She wasn’t. But she had learned, and if this nightmare had taught her anything, it was how much she truly hated harming others. Luz was dressed as Belos, but she could never be him.

Looking at the light glyph, thinking of how she felt when she discovered it, the love and appreciation for the Isles, she knew not only did she want to stay, not only did others want her to, but she belonged here. This was her home, these people were her family, and as always, she was ready to fight with all of her power to save them.

She held up the glyph and took a deep breath. “Well, ready to deal with a celestial god?”

Stringbean attempted a salute with her tail. Ready, Good Witch!

Luz clapped her hands against the light glyph, and blinding white light filled the room. Moments later, her eyes opened, this time for real.

#the owl house #toh #luz noceda #the owl house luz #lumity #the owl house season 3 #watching and dreaming #toh fanfic #my fics

12 notes · View notes

konako · 2 years

Note

se ruby comer pouco resulta no lobo xoxo e capenga das primeiras temporadas então quando ela serviu de cão de guarda pra bruxa ela comeu proteína demais da conta pra ganhar aquele porte

Now we're talking! Tu é dos meus, anon!

"I'll help you find your pack", the witch had said, before inviting Ruby into her cottage.

The witch seemed nice.

Just an old woman, unassuming. Small and frail, she walked slowly, a hint of a limp to her stride.

Ruby waited patiently for her, offering a warm smile and a gentle hand to assist her up from her big garden chair. And, as she did so, Ruby thought back on the days she would help Granny up in the morning, before starting their day. And for that moment, she missed that simple life.

The witch — oh, Ruby forgot to ask her name, how rude of her! — was bit odd, sure. A strange sense of humor, and a long, silent stare that traveled up and down Ruby's frame in a way that left goosebumps in its wake.

But she had such a welcoming smile and an adorable accent, Ruby felt strangely safe for a moment, as if invited in for tea by a harmless, lonely grandmother. Maybe it was the trick of seeing Granny in her movements. Maybe it was Ruby herself, her conscient mind stubbornly resisting the old surviving instincts that told her to never let her guard down neat a witch — as innocent as she might seem.

Maybe, she wanted to be polite to the woman she had begged help from. Maybe, Ruby indeed was a stupid, ridiculous, careless girl. Too trusting for her own good.

But then, they stepped into the cottage and the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them, a sound so loud and final, a brute thud that pushed the wind around.

And before Ruby could turn her body fully to the witch, her muscles froze in place mid-impulse — bones stuck by their joints, feet rooted in the earth.

The witch lifted her tiny, old hand up, and the pale skin glowed faintly with some sort of magic.

A spell. Shit.

Of course.

The cloak was ripped from Ruby's shoulders by an invisible force.

Then, it happened.

Ruby's vision suddenly changed. Colors became brighter, shadows weaker. Her field of view lowered, a few inches closer to the ground, but Ruby could see so much more.

Her back arched and her weight fell forward. When her hands touched the earth, they were paws. And when she breathed in in a gasp, the scents that invaded her were so much stronger than they had been a mere second ago.

Her body had morphed into the wolf, against her will.

"Oh, poor thing!" The witch said, as she summoned the cloak into her hands. Carefully, she folded the large heavy fabric into a neat square. "You're so thin! Have you been eating at all? I could probably pick you up and throw you around!"

Ruby tried to answer, but no voice, no sound could make it out of her throat. Not even a growl escaped her. Her body couldn't react, still stuck in place, limbs were made of steel, too heavy to move.

Even as the witch walked closer in tiny, uneven steps, Ruby had no choice but to stay.

Stay, like a good dog.

And listen.

The witch's hand touched the top of the wolf's head.

"Still, you're big enough that you'll give intruders a scare for me."

She smiled, and her eyes, again, travelled Ruby's body.

"I've been in need of some surveillance for my cottage. You can't trust just anyone that walks by! These are dangerous lands." Her hand followed behind her eyes, sliding down the wolf's large head, over the pronounced spine, her fingers feeling around every bone that stuck out. "You know, folks around here are at war all the time and I can't have just anyone coming in and stealing stuff from me! I've got a business to run! I've got to keep myself fed"

Then, the hand over the wolf's back stopped abruptly in its track.

The witch stepped back, the same small slow steps, until she could take all of the Ruby's form in.

"I've got to keep you fed as well, now!" She exclaimed, "I wouldn't want a malnourished guard dog. How effective would you be then? Not much, I bet" The witch rested her hands on her hips, still scanning every surface of Ruby's body. "You're my pet. You'll take care of me and I'll take care of you."

Before Ruby could sense it, her body moved on its own.

Her legs bent until her belly touched the ground and she laid, like a dog, by the witch's feet.

As if mirroring her, the witch sat down just in front of her.

"I'll need to put you on a diet." The old woman mumbled, talking to herself. "You'll have to change your eating habits, or you won't put on any weight" She said, and her eyes escaped to the side, in thought. "A nice girl like you, helping an old lady off her chair, doesn't seem like the type of wolf that would hunt enough. Without a pack, I doubt you even hunt at all! Oh, my, sweetie! What are you eating to keep healthy? That can't go on like this!"

A second passed, and the witch clicked her tongue. Her eyes returned, quick and wide, to Ruby's thin frame.

"Oh, I know! I'll keep you under a spell!" She snapped her fingers across her chest, leaning forward on her chair. "A different one." She frowned at herself, correcting her track "Another one. This one you're under is just to keep you in your wolf form outside of Wolfstime." She said, beginning to spin her hand in the empty air in front of her. "This second one will help you with your... shyness, so you can finally eat better."

From the tip of the witch's fingers, a colorless wave swirled the air, moving the light around. And with a simple motion of her wrist, the spell was cast, spinning, almost transparent, towards Ruby.

Like a blanket of magic, it felt onto her body and it slowed seeped into her flesh.

As if a spark had ignited the air in her lungs, Ruby felt an old, dormant flame smoldering in her body suddenly spill, spread and consume her bones.

Violently filling her up, a heat and an urgency exploded from within, bringing forth a feeling she thought she had buried deep, to never feel again. Anger.

It made her skin feel tight. Her limbs, dense; her muscles, electric and her entire body, hot.

Restless.

All the while, she felt an overwhelming emptiness grow in her gut, like a black hole that threatened to collapse her inside herself.

A thundering growl tore through her chest, clawing at her throat, filling every space in the small cottage.

Her stomach, pressed to the earth, rumbled and roared.

She was hungry.

#RL HC

4 notes · View notes

binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

➵ chan, son of dionysus ➵

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x bang chan

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: demigod au, inspired by PJO, sonofdionysus!chan, softdom!chan, lil bit of magic and enchantment, mentions of wine, outdoor sex, unprotected sex (stay safe lovelies!), creampie, praising, usage of pet names, lil bit of teasing, oral (r receiving), light bondage (ribbons), all kinds of sensory stuff

Word count: 1.7k

demigod!skz mini-masterlist coming soon

{swear on the river styx?}

Madness. This was where your love and disdain for Chan began and ended. He had caught you in his spell, and now, there was no going back. He was always good at getting what he wanted.

You were his all the way from the grass tickling your fingers on the edge of the picnic blanket to your bare toes kissed with the warmth of the summer sun.

Being alone with Chan was like being in a haze, a purple haze, more specifically--one that felt like an illusion, like he had you locked up in some kind of mirage. All that you could see and feel was him: his fingers slipped down the sides of your body, singing spells with his kisses into your collarbones and fluttering on your lips.

Chan was soothing like waves upon an ocean shore in the way that he would roll his body weight over you, pressing himself into you as if he was trying to consume you and make you one being. You wouldn’t have minded.

Madness was in his deep violet eyes that would make you feel dizzied. In the light of the afternoon, they sparkled and dripped in vice like the wine that he would bring to your lips. It was his elixir, somehow it would taste different every time. Chan would suck the bitterness of the grapes off your skin, but he always tasted sweeter.

Other times, he would lay simply with you, hidden in the grape leaves, tracing little designs into your arm with his fingertip. Chan recited poems for you, and monologues from plays in languages that you couldn’t understand, but they sounded beautiful coming from his mouth.

Your madness for him grew when he would weave little sprigs of lilac into your hair, humming a little tune for you until you would feel your eyes grow heavy with the allure of sleep; mauve under your eyelids which he too would kiss.

“Forever you’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours.”

Songbirds tittered in that vast vineyard, dotting the cloudless cerulean sky which would turn into a blur on those afternoons. His touch was softer than the breeze, and tickled at you too.

“You’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you?”

Chan tucks up the corners of your shirt then greedily works at the buttons and holes that let in the summer heat. He bites into your neck lightly, and the scent of lilac fastens to his naturally earthy scent: it’s almost like the smell of an electric atmosphere following the downpouring of rain.

He tucks his thigh between the pooling heat of your legs and bows over you like the willows nearest to the edge of forest guarding his father’s vineyard. He sweeps you into his arms, tangling his limbs and yours.

“There’s nothing more beautiful than you.”

He sweeps up your face in his hands, thumbing over your cheeks and giving you every bit of this sweetness: like cherries, like honey and nectarines. Chan’s kisses are like some kind of enchantment and the way that his tongue carefully passes yours is almost lyrical.

Chan weaves vines down your body of kisses, never breaking those violet eyes with you. The picnic blanket crinkles a little as he helps you shimmy out of your bottoms. He hovers his mouth over your dripping arousal. He then uses his hands to spread your legs farther, but he doesn’t need to do too much. His golden hair is like the soft threads of barely in your fingertips, and he hums into your twitching excitement. Your hips buckle into his praise,

“That’s it angel.”

Using both his hand and his mouth, Chan wets you further with his tongue. He spreads out his tongue flat to tease at you slowly, and with each return of his muscle, he brings you closer and closer to your brink. By now, your tossing body has strewn the blanket enough that the grass has become your pillow, and it tickles at the tips of your ears.

You’re drunk on him when he finally lets you feel him wholly, and he rubs harder, faster. Your body quivers at the way that his pink tongue looks pleasuring you like this, it’s just about enough to make you release into his mouth, just of him.

Cicadas hiss, and your incessant whimpers become one in the same with them.

Golden trellises string his determined and hooded eyes when he steals away all sensation from you to nibble gently at your inner thighs.

“Not yet my love, I’ll make you mine soon enough.”

Your gasping body is an utter mess under him, and you rock your hips into his body for some kind of feeling. Under his silken shirt, the breeze whips into the contours of his muscles, and you claw into his body, tracing over every one of the curves you can find.

“Please...”

It’s likely through pure insanity that your body keens for him, and thirsts to be evermore under his touch and attention.

“Angel, I can give you everything that you want and more...just be patient.”

To his side, he detangles the satin gold ribbon from the bundle of wildflowers that he had brought for you.

Your neglected sex pivots up towards his body when he prowls over to your wrists to tie together both of your hands with the ribbon. He doesn’t tie it tight, merely trusting it for decoration, and you don’t dare to break free.

Chan frees himself from his own bottoms, choosing to linger over your bare body: a mixture of body heat and anticipation. His hardened member throbs on your stomach and you whine out carelessly just to feel him inside.

“No-no more, want you--want you so, so bad.”

‘What is it that you want my love?” He aligns himself with your entrance. “Say it.”

“I-I want you, and no one else. Can you please...deep...I-I can take it.”

Chan devours the way that your wrists flick in that golden ribbon that shines under the sun’s rays. You’re completely vulnerable to him, but you’ve never felt safer. There was something about his presence that was massively calming--like him simply existing there with you in that moment was all you would ever need.

His lips are connected to yours once more as he coaxes his dick in slowly. Just the simple action fills you with euphoria, and you’ve lost all sense of composure. His girth swells inside you, washing you over with a complete sense of intimacy with him that you know is irreplaceable. He bottoms out within you with a low groan, eyebrows helplessly twisted as he feels your walls tighten.

He begins his thrusts and each return is met with both of your shaking breaths in the air. Your hands trace over the shoulder blades flexing on his back, then you dig your nails into the gorgeous skin. Chan is quick in digging his hips as deeply as he can into you to hear you let out more and more rushed moans past your lips.

“Get up this way baby.”

Chan pulls your hips up, then flips you over on your knees to bring himself back to you. He guides your face into the fabric of the blanket, hands then quickly moving to grasp at your waist. The gold ribbon juxtaposes the green grass in your hands like some celestial combination.

From this angle, he hikes up your waist into the air and near to his member, now thrilled and pink as well. He enters you at last, and you’ve almost forgotten how full you had felt before--now, it’s even greater.

“S-so pretty for me my darling. You-you look so pretty like this.” Chan grunts the words out best he can. In your madness for him, he’s driven himself over the edge as well.

Skin on skin pats lightly and he digs into your ass with one hand, and returns back to your sex with the other, permitting it those last fleeting touches.

He barely had to touch you more before your body shook violently with your orgasm that left you light headed, much like the others. While the heat sears through all of your limbs, Chan chuckles at his feat, grinding down his hips even harder while he chases your overstimulation.

You’re delirious by the time that he manages one more orgasm out of you; the second one makes you much louder and less demure than you had been before.

“Want-want you inside, c-cum for me?”

“I just wanted you to have some of the fun first.”

“I said that I wanted you. I said I can take it.”

The purple flames in Chan’s eyes spark, and he’s renewed his pace, pumping in and out you slowly, up until he’s spewing more little praises into the summer air.

“Aren’t you so tight for me? Gods, you feel so--” He trails tiny grunts in the back of his throat, “--so good for me.”

“Chan--mm--just a little more...”

Chan melts into a pool of his orgasm and your pleading voice, grunting out unintelligible moans of sheer happiness and relief. Together, you linger there, staying the exact same, and relishing in the beauty of feeling one with another person--the one person that you wanted and loved most in the world.

After he removes himself from your entrance still in aftershocks, Chan watches his white seed glisten and drip out just slightly.

You swipe away those golden strands to kiss his sweating forehead. The summer wind blows coolly on your perspiration and you take his face into your hands to laugh slightly together. It’s those violet eyes that take care of you, and love you, and glisten like the way the cottonwoods mimic the ocean’s waves.

You were mad. Completely and utterly mad for him, an infatuation so deep, it was the kind that some would say would last for ages.

Chan held your hand as you both came down from your orgasms, and looked up at the clouds with you from that little corner riddled with vines of weeds and juicy purple grapes.

The purple haze consumes you, and for a moment, you can’t even distinguish the real from the mirage.

“Chan?”

“Mmhm?”

“I don’t ever want to leave here with you.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids oneshots #stray kids drabbles #stray kids timestamps #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #demigod au #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #chan x reader #chan x you #chan x y/n #i apologize if I have ruined anyone's childhoods with this au HA

331 notes · View notes

whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Text

Nemesis - Part 8

This one is... something. I was supposed to be asleep hours ago. The sun has come up. But it was all more than worth it, and now I am going to pass out.

Based on votes from last time, option B was chosen-- speak to Leader and Hacker. There’s going to be a little flip in allegiances this time around, and some questions will finally be answered! The choose your own adventure aspect is going to be a bit different too, this time around, but more detail about that at the end.

For now, I hope you enjoy!

CW//Drugged whumpee, confusion, nightmares, past trauma, murder, strangled to death, minor body horror (shapeshifting)

The wave of cool water felt heavenly as it washed over Villain’s throat. Even as the movement exhausted them, they drank every drop as if it would be their last, and, when the last drop was at last reached, they whined.

“There you go.”

The voice felt closer, this time, coming from behind only one layer of fog rather than a thousand. It was close, just like the warm hand, wrapped around their shoulders, keeping them upright.

Everything was so warm...

“Hero... Hero warm...”

A slight chuckle replied to that, the hand on their back gently rubbing between their shoulder blades. Making them feel like they had blood, like there was something inside them other than dry ice.

They had been so cold, just a moment ago, mind spiraling with something... something bad. What had it been? Had it been anything at all?

Did it matter, now that Hero was here?

“Yeah. Hero warm. Are you warm enough?”

“Mhm.” They purred. The silk webbing wrapping around them, that which had once been uncomfortable, restraining, now felt so soft. They could sink into it forever...

“Do you need anything?”

“Tired.”

“You want to go back to bed?”

“Yeah. Hero stay...”

“Yeah. Yeah, Hero stay.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Hero.”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Villain.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The warm body in Hero’s arms, hardly recognizable beneath layers of fleece and fabrics, took only a moment to turn heavy and limp, breathing slowly until it was only shown by the slow rise and fall of their chest.

Even as exhaustion tugged at their own limbs, even as they wanted more than anything to curl up in those blankets themself, they knew they couldn’t. Hero couldn’t stay.

As gently as they could manage, given Villain’s limp weight, they laid their ward down on their side. The unconscious person murmured and twitched as the blankets were readjusted, but did not stir.

Villain was comfortable. Villain was safe. That was what mattered. Even though...

Hero took their phone from their pocket, flinching at the blazing screen light.

Seven in the morning. They had hoped to be able to claim a few hours of rest alongside Villain, but their own worry had made that impossible. Now, it was already morning.

Hell, they were supposed to be eating with their team by six thirty. Yet, no one had knocked to awake them, yet.

Hero hauled themself to their feet, limbs aching and joints popping all the way. They hardly registered the chill beneath their feet as they made their way to the door.

Only for it to nearly slam into them. They leapt backwards, barely catching themself.

“Oh, shit, sorry!” Leader’s wide eyes showed that they had been expecting Hero just as much as they had been expecting them. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, you didn’t hit me.”

“Good.” Their gaze cast downwards, to the item carried in their arms-- a platter of food. Fortunately, none had fallen.

“Is that for Villain?”

“No, dimwit. I don’t think they could get anything down if you forced it down their throat. This is for you.”

“Oh.”

“When is the last time you ate?”

“Um...”

“Lunch yesterday, got it.”

“It’s... Isn’t everyone else already eating?”

“They’re already done. I told them you needed your rest. Thought you’d prefer eating in here.”

Hero shook their head, pointing back at the snoring pile of blankets.

“Can’t wake them up.”

“Oh.”

“I can just, um, eat out there.”

“No, you’re going to-” Leader bit their tongue, reformulating their sentence. “Um, how about you come and eat with me in my office? I haven’t eaten yet, either.”

Hero was in no way used to such a delicately formatted request.

“Sure.”

“Alright.” Leader nodded, handing over the platter, which they gratefully took. The two moved out of the room-- the former taking surprising care to close the door gently, so as to not make any noise.

The common room was deserted, thank the heavens. There were no distractions as they moved to Leader’s office. The chairs still hadn’t moved since their discussion last night. Hero sat.

“So...” Leader maneuvered around their side of their desk, seating themself. “How did you sleep?”

“Didn’t.”

“Not at all?”

“Maybe a bit. I’m not sure. Villain woke up and...” They trailed off.

“And?”

Leader had no need to know of Villain’s words.

“I had to get them back to sleep. They drank some water, too.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Hero perked their ears, hearing a noise beyond the office door. “I’m surprised that they’re leaving us alone.”

“I told them to.” Leader speared a chunk of scrambled eggs with a fork, raising it to their lips.

The events of last night came flooding back.

“What did you tell them? What did you tell everyone? I thought they’d have been all over me once they knew I came back. They do know, right?”

“They certainly wanted to bother you.” Leader swallowed the chunk of egg. “I didn’t let them.”

“So they do know?”

“Kinda.” They straightened themself, playing with the food upon their plate momentarily. “I told them that I came back last night, and found you here. As far as they know, you escaped on your own, and Villain’s whereabouts are unknown.”

“And they believed you?”

“I think they were just glad to know that you were okay. And, y’know, not dead. You’re probably going to get hounded with questions later, but, for now, I made it very clear that you’re to be left alone.”

“Thank you.” Hero spoke half-breathlessly.

“It’s not a problem. You’re officially relieved of mission duty until you’ve recovered.”

“R-Really?”

“You need to rest. Even if you aren’t injured, you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah...”

“So, until you’re feeling better, let me handle that.” They took another bite, making Hero note the fact that they hadn’t so much as looked at their own food. Even the thought of eating something made their stomach twist.

“Thank you.”

“Really, it’s fine. So... How is our, y’know, secret?”

“Villain?”

“Duh.”

“They’re... they’re fine, I think. Still out of it. But, like I said, I got them to drink some water. And they seemed to recognize me.”

“They didn’t recognize you before?”

“No. I don’t think so, at least. They were really out of it.”

“Are you ever planning on telling me what happened to them?”

Hero had almost forgotten that Leader was in the dark about the whole thing. Yet, they were being so trusting. Hell, they hadn’t even trusted Hero when they hadn’t been lying to them.

“Um...”

“You don’t have to.”

It was the first time they’d ever heard Leader string those particular words together.

“But, I would like to know. You need your rest, and Villain needs a caretaker. I was a nurse once, y’know.”

“You were?”

“I don’t know if your surprise should insult me. But, yes. I can keep watch over them while you sleep, but it would help if I actually knew what was wrong with them.”

“Yeah.” Hero scratched the back of their neck. “Thing is, um, I don’t really know?”

“Well, you said they were drugged, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that for sure.”

“Do you know what with?”

“About that...”

Leader raised a brow.

Hero let their next words tumble out of their lips like a waterfall, unable to stop once it had begun to flow.

“Villain has been kept sedated to unconsciousness for the last year. They were supposed to be rehabilitated, but they were drugged instead. I don’t know why.”

Leader dropped their fork.

“Oh.”

“I don’t know what drugs they were given. Just that they were sedated.”

“I see. How did... How did they leave the rehab facility.”

Hero diverted their gaze.

“That’s not really important.”

A sigh.

“Okay. We can talk about that later. Thank you, for telling me. Was there... Was there a reason? They wouldn’t just be drugged for no reason.”

Hero shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know.”

Leader bit their lip.

“With everything going on recently, I hesitate to ignore the possibility that Director had something to do with it.”

“You really think so?”

“Maybe. You aren’t planning on eating, are you?”

“I...” Hero felt their face flush. “I don’t feel too well.”

“That’s fine. I’ll clean up. You go get your rest, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll keep everyone away from your room. And, Hero?”

“Yeah?”

“Sleep in your own bed. I can keep an eye on Villain.”

“Thank you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Collapsing onto their own bed felt like falling onto a cloud. The mattress curved, shifting to cradle their aching body. For a moment, Hero could not help but nestle themself in it, letting their pillow almost envelope their head.

Birds had long since begun their outside chirping, but that was inconsequential. At that point, Hero could have slept through an earthquake.

But, apparently, not through a phone call.

The ringing noise jolted them from their blissful repose. Without thought, their hand blindly searched for the vibrating device on their nightstand. They blinked against the screen’s bright light.

Hacker. A wave of relief filled their chest-- they were okay. Without thought, they accepted the call, placing the phone to their ear.

“Hero?”

“Yep. Hey, Hacker.”

“Oh, thank god you’re alright! Though you do sound a little bit like garbage.”

“Hey.”

“I’m just saying, just saying. Oh, you have no idea how worried I was. The news only just broke this morning. I could hardly sleep, last night.”

“I thought you were like, nocturnal.”

A stutter.

“I mean, you kept me up all day, so. You know how it is. But I’m just really glad. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay. Just tired.”

“You must be. The news... that wasn’t right, was it? They said you escaped from Villain.”

“The reports are wrong. I never got captured in the first place. But, I’m just fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it. How is...”

“Villain?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine. Really out of it, but fine.”

“That’s good. Look, I know you’re tired, but I just found something that... Well, I think you’re really gonna want to hear it.”

“What is it?”

“Not here. Not over the phone. Too dangerous.”

“You want to meet up again?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure that’s, like, a good idea?”

“Not in public like before. That wouldn’t be good for either of us, I don’t think. But I know another place.”

“Oh?”

“It’s, um, so, this is gonna sound bad. It’s this abandoned warehouse thing. And I know that sounds sketchy as hell, but it’s fine, I promise. I’ve been to a few parties there. The underground kind of people use it a lot, so it’s perfectly safe.”

“Um... Okay. Where is it?”

“Ashworth, on the East side. It’s pretty obvious once you see it, but the number on it is 62.”

“You’re sure this is a good idea?”

“Yeah. It’s not exactly, like, it’s abandoned, but there’s parties there all the time. And it should be empty during the day. How fast can you get there?”

“Um...” Hero blinked with leaden eyelids. “Does it have to be right now?”

“I guess it could wait. Why?”

“I feel like I’m going to collapse. I’m exhausted, Hacker.”

“Oh. How about tonight?”

“Tonight is fine.”

“Does eight sound good?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. Uh, sleep well.”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

And, with a collapse onto their pillow and the click of a hung-up phone call, Hero was out.

Yet, as they fell into unconsciousness, a single thought couldn’t help but worm its way into their consciousness:

Hacker hated other people. They wouldn’t be caught dead going to a party.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Villain?”

It was a soft voice, yet marked with a distinctively higher pitch. Villain stirred, kicking at their layers of blankets.

“Hey, Villain. Can you open your mouth for me?”

The voice was odd, yet warm. They blinked their eyes open, letting the world come into focus around them.

A figure, kneeled down in front of them. A face...

They knew that face.

Someone familiar. Someone they’d fought before...

Leader. Why was Leader here?

“You need to open your mouth for me, okay?” It was Leader’s voice, but not their tone. It shouldn’t have been that soft, right? Or maybe their memories were simply foggy.

Regardless, they allowed their jaw to fall open. The taste of plastic filled their mouth as an eyedropper was placed upon their tongue, followed by the bitter taste of medicine, sliding down their throat. Villain struggled to cough up the liquid, but their jaw was gently held in position until they had swallowed every last drop.

“There.” The taste of plastic retreated, disappearing as a few sips of water were washed down after. “Thank you.”

“W- What is...”

“It’s gonna make all that drug withdrawal easier.”

The face went out of focus, replaced by a black dot, in the center of Villain’s vision. A spoon.

“Can you look at this?” A fingernail tapped the plastic dinnerware. They nodded.

Slowly, at first, the spoon began to move. First left to right, then up and down, before moving around more erratically. After a few moments, Villain blinked, shaking their head, eyes exhausted.

“Thank you.” The spoon lowered out of view. “You’re gonna need a bit more time to recover, but you’re getting there. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. Goodnight, hun.”

Villain let their heavy eyelids fall closed, barely registering as their blankets were tucked back in around their chest. Warmth enveloped them, mind wrapped in blissful heat, until...

Chill. An unmistakable chill biting their skin, nipping at their reddened nose. They blinked, rubbing their eyes with one hand, the world around them taking shape.

Taking shape...

Taking the wrong shape.

Where were...

They blinked once more, their surroundings coming into focus. Far more focus than their vision had permitted them in a very, very long time.

The building before them was large enough to block out the sun.

It could only be described as a brick-- that was what it was, a brick of concrete, marked by little more than faded graffiti and tattered signs that may have once warned against trespassing. The only marking that remained clearly visible was the number-- the building number, sticking out in brown-painted metal.

62.

Villain felt bile rise in their throat. They knew exactly where they were. The car they’d used to get here was only a minute’s walk away. They needed to get to it, to run, to turn and leave as fast their legs would take them. This was it! Their second chance! Their chance to leave, to make everything right again. To unmake the decision that had ruined them.

But they could not turn. Their legs would not move under their command, instead, alien limbs began to move forward. Towards the building’s entrance.

No, no, please no!

They needed to turn, to leave, but...

They did not have the power to make that decision. They could only watch.

Why had they been here in the first place? All that time ago... To confront someone. To find Supervillain. They’d done something. Hurt someone, maybe?

Panic twisted their thoughts far too much to allow them to focus on such far-away memories. The panic of moving, moving eternally forwards. To the entrance, through the doorway.

Into the warehouse.

Inside was terribly dark, small slivers of light illuminating only an expanse of boxes long since left abandoned, their cargo doomed to rot. They had never understood why Supervillain spent so much time here. Certainly they could have found a better hideout.

But, Supervillain was strange. No one understood them.

They were here, though. Villain could feel them, hear heavy breathing, sense the way their presence disrupted the psychic landscape around.

Villain stilled.

Leave. Turn around. Go! It’s not worth it, they begged themself. But...

But their hand reached for their pocket, producing a phone in trembling hands. They tapped the screen, activating the flashlight, flooding the concrete floor with illumination.

However, they hardly needed the light to remember what came next. The image would never leave their mind, they were certain of it. Never remove itself from where it was burned irreversibly into their corneas.

One figure, leaned over another. Holding them to the ground.

Hands over their neck.

If Director had at any point struggled, their straining had long since ceased. The only sign of life they displayed came in the way they weakly kicked against Supervillain’s unyielding grip.

Villain was not the one being strangled, but they could not breathe even so.

“Who the hell is there?” The voice, that furious, terrible tone, echoed off of every concrete wall and rotten crate.

Supervillain looked up from their victim, gaze meeting that of their newfound witness.

“Who!”

Villain’s legs went stock-still. They could have run, at any point, they could have run, they could have run.

But...

Director stopped struggling. Supervillain stood, rolling out their shoulders.

For a moment, their body twisted, snapping and curling in on itself. Bones morphing, shrinking or extending, muscles rearranging themselves in a horrible scene.

Villain had forgotten just how horrible it was, to watch Supervillain use their powers.

When, at last, their transformation was complete, Villain was staring back at the living face of Director.

Cold, grey eyes met theirs.

“Villain?”

Supervillain, the new Director, grumbled, moving over to the corpse of their victim. Prying a walkie-talkie from their belt.

Holding it to their own mouth.

“Hello, HQ? I’m going to need some backup, here.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Inside the warehouse was terribly dark.

Hero’s legs felt nearly numb, wandering within, only the slightest slivers of light able to creep in through the door. They walked by those shreds of light, though they hardly did so much as allowing them to see their own feet before them.

Still, they walked. The building smelled terribly of rotten wood.

“Hacker?” Their voice echoed off of every concrete wall and rotten crate. “Are you here?”

“Over here.” The voice called from the other side of the building-- how had they gotten all the way over there?

“Where? Is there a light in this place?”

“It’s been abandoned for half a century. No, there are no lights. Doesn’t your phone have a flashlight?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Hero fumbled in their own pocket for a moment, taking out the device. Even with the flashlight, however, the darkness still seemed to envelope the whole world. They cast the beam of illumination around, scanning, yet finding nothing but crates and graffiti. “Where are you? I can’t see you.”

“Here.”

A figure stepped out from behind a support beam. Hacker’s small frame looked even more minuscule, surrounded by crates twice their height. They were half-hidden by an oversized hoodie, yet, their hood was not pulled up.

They always pulled their hood up.

Hero shook their head. They were being paranoid.

“I’m so glad to see you’re, like, alive.” Hacker smiled, approaching at a quick clip. Their laptop bag was hung across their chest, bouncing with their movements. “You aren’t hurt or anything, right?”

“No.” Hero shook their head, moving forward to meet their friend in the middle of the building. “I’m okay.”

“That’s too bad.”

“What?” Hero rubbed an ear-- had they heard wrong?

“I always heard you were a fucking idiot. Guess I just never realized to what extent.”

That... That was not Hacker’s voice.

Hero took a step back, a chill filling their chest.

Hacker’s form quickly began to fill their formerly oversized hoodie as, below them, their legs extended with a horrid noise of cracking and popping. Their facial features did the same, shifting as though molded in putty.

Director was taller than Hero.

Hero gulped.

Director took a step forth-- polished shoes clacking against concrete. How had Hero not noticed the shoes? Hacker would never wear something like that.

They...

Director held out a hand. To shake.

Hero raised an upper lip, baring their teeth.

“Where is Hacker?”

Laughter echoed against the walls.

“That’s what you’re worried about, right now?”

“They’re my friend!” Hero stomped. “And a civilian. Don’t bring them into this.”

Director smirked.

“I assure you, your friend is fine.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Well, right now, you’re going to have to.”

Hero took another step back, turning to run, already feeling their heartbeat elevate to a quick tattoo in their throat.

But...

There was nowhere to go.

“I didn’t bring you here for no reason, dear.”

There must have been a dozen of them, if not more. A dozen figures, scattered in loose formation, blocking the entrance. Surrounding them.

Hero spun back around. They were there now, behind Director, too.

And they knew every last face. Every reformed villain. Every rehab center graduate.

They gulped.

“Now.”

Hero didn’t realize how close Director had gotten, not until they laid a massive hand upon their shoulder.

“We are going to talk.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thanks so much for reading! This time, the choices are going to be a bit different. In the way of, there are no choices! At least, none that I am coming up with. You guys have given so many amazing suggestions in the past, so I thought, how about you suggest what happens next in our story.

Instead of giving you guys choices, its up to you to decide what our Hero will do next. If you really like another person’s suggestion, you can vote for it! Otherwise, I will choose what I find the most interesting.

I’m hoping that this will be fun. If it proves to be difficult/complicated/etc, I can certainly add choices, but I thought I’d do something a bit different this time around ^^

#nemesis #choose your own adventure #choose your own whump #villain whumpee #whump community #whumpblr #whump #hero villain whump #hero caretaker #supervillain whumper #supervillain

78 notes · View notes

happylittledrabbles · 3 years

Text

choke me!

Rating: 18+

DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18, NO MINORS!!!

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Eren Yeager

—

"It's been four years, Reiner."

Reiner never thought he'd see Eren again. And yet there he was, sitting in front of him. The two exchange some heated words until Eren has had enough and lunges at Reiner, pinning him against the wall by the throat.

Except, instead of a cry or a shout, Reiner's reaction is a lot more...unexpected.

"Did you just...moan?"

Choking kink fic, basically.

AO3

—

“It’s been four years, Reiner.”

The last person Reiner Braun expected to see tonight was Eren fucking Yeager. He knew he’d see Eren again eventually, he just figured it’d be when Eren was killing him or he was killing the damned menace.

He didn’t think the reunion would be so soon.

They had warned that if Eren were to attack Marley at any time, it’d be tonight. But he had had so much fun at the fair with the kids that he hadn’t fully registered that Eren Yeager still existed. All he could think about was how happy he was to finally be out of that hell that was called Paradis and away from seeing the devils he had grown to love die at the hands of his own people. And he thought he had finally escaped it, except now, the biggest threat among both of their worlds was sitting right in front of him.

“H-how…” No thoughts in his head. There was nothing. Eren’s expression was so calm, it was mocking in comparison to the panic running amok in the blond’s chest.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking in these four years, Reiner Braun.” His name sounded like pure acid on Eren’s tongue. Even if Eren kept his tone measured, Reiner’s name still came out like two spears that pierced him directly in the heart.

“A lot of thinking about how you betrayed us. About how you killed Marco. About how you were my role model. A big brother, really.”

Nausea swirled in his stomach like a hot pit of lava, and he couldn’t help but step back and bump into Falco, who was also petrified; the two of them stilled like perfect marble statues. Reiner had tried hard to forget he ever interacted with Eren, nevermind considered him a friend. There were many times when they were alone together that he almost professed that he was the Armored Titan because he felt so close to him. He felt pride whenever he watched Eren succeed, even though he should have been actively distancing himself from him in preparation for the big operation. When he was supposed to not feel anything at all after breaking through Wall Maria and effectively killing everybody Eren knew, he locked himself in a room and cried and screamed for hours until Bertholdt came in and had to pry his hands from the table and hug him until his other personality took over, and he felt nothing again.

Oh, how he wished his other personality took over now. Then he wouldn’t be able to feel the crippling fear resonating throughout his entire body. Then he wouldn’t be able to feel the pure dread cross his face as Eren grew his missing leg back and stood up, instinctively hugging his arms behind him to make sure Falco was protected.

“I won’t hurt him,” Eren said, his visible eye dropping to the young boy staring at him with stormy blue eyes, wide with terror. He snickered. “Maybe he’ll get caught in the fallout. But, I won’t hurt him now, if that’s what you’re wondering. In fact...” He gestured with his hand for Falco to leave, giving him a chilling smile that he meant to be reassuring. “Go ahead and leave, kiddo. This shouldn’t take long. I just need to talk to my old pal Reiner here.”

“Don’t talk to him,” Reiner whispered shakily, but eventually let Falco go and pushed him forward. “Go. Run as far away as you can. I’ll handle this.” If anything happened, he wanted Falco as far away from the site of disaster as possible.

He turned back to Eren and noticed he was several inches taller than when he last saw him. It made sense; he was a grown adult man now, but it was still a shock. He was so used to peering down at Eren and resting his arm on top of his head, ruffling his hair, tipping his chin back to make eye contact with him. But now, if he slouched even a bit, he’d be shorter.

“How cute. You used to be protective over me like that,” Eren said with a bitter laugh, beginning to step forward when Reiner stepped back and nearly tripped over a chair in response. “What, are you scared of me? Ha. I remember when—”

“Stop!” Reiner cried, slapping his hands over his ears and shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t want to hear it! I don’t—”

“Don’t want to hear what, Reiner? How we used to be friends? How I looked up to you? How we shared so many good times together?” He picked up the chair he was sitting in and smashed it to the ground, the wood strewn across the ground like puzzle pieces. Reiner flinched at the echo of the crackling wood, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Eren blew the splinters off his palms and clapped them together to get rid of the rest of the debris as he walked leisurely around the room with his freshly grown leg, circling Reiner like a hawk to its prey.

“Did you feel anything when you killed Marco? Did you feel anything when I told you my mom was eaten? Knowing it was all your goddamn fault?!” Eren roared, his eye a ball of flaming green fire.

“I—”

“No, you didn’t feel anything. Because if you felt anything, you wouldn’t have tried so hard to get close to me.” Eren unraveled the bandages around his face to reveal his other eye, somehow making the fury blazing in his stare even more potent. He let the bandages drop to the ground, the fabric twisting and turning gently as they fell into a pile. Reiner blinked slowly, so slowly it would have seemed he fell asleep for a moment. He stepped forward, about to reach out to Eren when his breath hitched in his throat, his lungs refusing to expand as he was yet again face-to-face with the boy—man—he had ruined the life of and had grown close to, all at the same time.

He took a deep breath once his lungs began to function again, closing his eyes to block out Eren’s intense glare.

“I was always your friend, Eren,” he clarified, taking the chance to raise his arm up and reach out to the other man in hopes of understanding, of doing something to prevent whatever he was about to do. He flinched at the sound of applause outside, a horrifying reminder of the sheer number of people outside that Eren could so easily massacre in the span of a minute if he transformed. If only he could teleport and tell Willy to get everybody the hell out of there. But alas, he was confined to this basement with nobody other than the embodiment of the Attack Titan.

“Please believe me,” he pleaded, a hopeful yet terrified smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he watched Eren’s expression soften. “I’ve always liked you.”

But Eren’s expression wasn’t softening. It was merely morphing into one of mockery, disdain sharpening in his glare and piercing his chest like a lion’s claws ripping into its prey. He never felt weaker than at that moment.

“Don’t,” he huffed, taking a deep breath before shrieking, “ patronize me! ”

He descended upon Reiner with superhuman speed, gripping his outstretched wrist and pinning it against the wall along with the rest of his body, raising his forearm up and pressing it against Reiner’s neck. He expected Reiner to scream, grunt, curse, or exhale sharply, but the last thing he expected to hear was—

“ Ah-nn!”

It was almost comical how stiff the two men went at the sound, their eyes widening at the same time as they simply stared at each other. In awe, fright, surprise, or a mixture of all three. Reiner couldn’t gather what Eren was thinking from his unreadable expression, but all he knew was that his face was bright red, his heart was racing, and his body was being far too receptive to the heavy weight on his windpipe.

And all Eren knew was that he quickly found out that he liked this just as much as Reiner so obviously did as well.

“Did you just...moan?” Eren whispered, his eyebrow quirking in intrigue. He moved his forearm forward, pressing more of his body weight into Reiner, eliciting yet another sound of pleasure from the other’s thin lips.

“N-no— mmn!” The feeling of his windpipe and the sides of his neck being pressed in together was a feeling that left Reiner’s knees weak, his eyelids growing heavy as endorphins danced around his brain, leaving him in a state of swoon.

As Reiner struggled to stay standing, all Eren could do was stare in pure shock at the scene before him. Never had he seen Reiner come undone so quickly and so easily before, not even when he came across Bertholdt fucking him brilliantly in the outhouse during training. He looked, frankly, bored, as if he was putting on a scene for the other. Perhaps it really was a good thing the beanpole died. Now, Eren could play around with that expression of pure ecstasy without worrying that a seven-foot-tall bag of bones would try and slap him with those gangly limbs.

“Interesting…” Eren trailed off, his tongue wetting his lips as he dropped his forearm, allowing Reiner to gasp for breath and cough. The blond’s hand snaked up to his own throat, making sure it was okay, although its trail was hesitant, bewildered. Was this discovery also new to Reiner himself?

“So...this is new to you, too?” he dared to ask, his hand twitching to replace Reiner’s and uncover that never-before-seen expression on the other’s face once again.

Reiner scoffed and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the resistance his throat gave. “Shut up.”

“I mean, no wonder you always looked so bored when Bertholdt was fucking you,” Eren continued with a shrug as he looked around the room. He smirked, his eyes drifting to Reiner’s, mischief glinting conspicuously in both of them. “You needed something else to get you off.”

Reiner’s confusion was palpable, his agape mouth transforming into a sneer once he realized what Eren was talking about. His face had already been red, but now it was a deep scarlet as his mind ran back and quickly figured out that the shadow outside the window of the outhouse had, indeed, been Eren Yeager. How long had the little bastard been there? He was...busy during that time, so he lost track of the shadow outside once they changed positions. Had Eren...been watching them? Not merely passing by and getting surprised by the sight?

“I said shut the fuck up,” Reiner growled, pushing himself off the wall to leave. However, Eren’s hand clamped down on his throat, pushing him back in the wall and causing his head to thump off the concrete. “Shit!” He tried to gasp, but the force pressing against the sides of his throat was even stronger than before, with more purpose, causing his gasp to morph into a squeal.

“Did I say you could leave?” Eren murmured, leaning forward so that his lips tickled the shell of the other’s ear. He licked a trail on the outside of Reiner’s ear, causing the other to release another strained gasp and squirm under the weight of his hand. Perhaps this awakened something in him, too, because his body was reacting just like Reiner’s was. He couldn’t stop his hand no matter how much he tried; the expression and small whimpers the blond was making underneath him were like pure opium.

“Eren! Ere— oh,” Reiner cried, his clawing at Eren’s hand halting once the brunet’s lips fell to the junction of his jaw and neck, sucking feverishly at the soft skin that wasn’t taken up by his tense fingers. Once he came to after the sensation roiled him up, he exclaimed, “W-what are you doing? Eren, stop—”

“Stop?” Eren chuckled, his other hand dropping to Reiner’s crotch, which was painfully swollen and twitched as his knuckles brushed against it, drawing out a delicious moan from the throat underneath his hold. “And let you leave like this? How rude would that be of me, especially since I was the cause of this?” He paused, a pensive look replacing his devious one. “I mean, if you really want me to, I’ll stop.”

He stepped back, releasing Reiner’s throat and holding his hands up in the air. He tried to suppress the devilish grin that threatened to come out, keeping his face neutral. “I stopped.”

But it was nearly impossible to suppress the grin any longer as he watched Reiner’s expression morph from pure pleasure to confusion to, finally, loss. His trembling hands came up to reconvey the place where Eren’s hand was, an angry red bruise beginning to bloom at the sides of his neck as if trying to see if the hand was truly gone. His eyes dropped to his own crotch, wincing at the sight of it as well as, probably, the pain his constrictive pants were giving him.

“I…” Reiner was both at a loss for words. His eyes searched the room until they fell upon Eren again, a sort of pleading in them. He wanted Eren to read his mind so that he didn’t have to embarrass himself by begging do it again, please come here and choke me and fuck me— but all Eren did was stand there, which was somehow more infuriating than listening to him whisper humiliating things into his ear.

“...come here,” he mumbled, rubbing his forearm nervously. He didn’t dare make eye contact, staring down at the floor as if it’d kill him to look up and meet Eren’s undoubtedly jeering eyes.

“What? I couldn’t hear you?” Eren cupped his hand behind his ear and leaned forward, causing Reiner to suck on his teeth and ball his hands into fists at his sides.

“You’ve always been a little shit, haven’t you?” Reiner grumbled, his arm shooting out and gripping Eren’s wrist, bringing it up and guiding the other’s hand around his throat. “I said—”

“Ah-ah,” Eren interrupted, shaking his head. His hand stayed limp around Reiner’s throat, his other hand sitting comfortably in the pocket of his trousers. “You have to prove to me how much you want it.” He tipped his chin up, gazing at Reiner underneath heavy eyelids, shifting his weight onto one foot.

“Beg.”

“Wha-wha—” Reiner spluttered, his eyes wide and his grip on Eren’s wrist getting tighter and tighter. “What?” As much as he was surprised, his body very much was not. It took in the simple word like an aphrodisiac, his shoulders and cheeks getting even redder and his crotch getting even more painful.

“You heard what I said,” Eren taunted, licking his lips as he closed the gap between them, halting right before his lips. “Beg. Or else I’ll leave you like a bitch in heat.”

When had Eren grown so domineering? He had always had a certain gusto about him, some confidence that propelled him forward, even if it made him look like a loser. He didn’t give up during the ODM training even when it was clearly rigged against him. He made the broken thing work. It was pure rage that was fueling him, but...when had lust taken over? When had the fury in his eyes melted into hot ardor? Had he...always felt that way about Reiner?

“Eren…” he trailed off, trying to muster up the courage to actually beg. God, this was humiliating. How the hell did they even get here? What were they doing? But he couldn’t let Eren leave and kill all those people. And he certainly couldn’t fight in this condition. As much as it was dehumanizing, Eren was right. It felt as if he was in heat, his entire body boiling and in need of an electric touch.

“Choke me, please.”

“Yawn. Do better.”

“C-choke me, hard.” Reiner’s eyes rolled partly up as he felt the pressure of Eren’s hand growing around his neck, unable to restrain his outburst: “Harder! Please, choke me—touch me...ugh…”

The pressure had returned, and the physical incapability of speaking due to his constricted windpipe replaced his emotional incapability due to his dignity. But what dignity did he have now? All he could do now was completely let go.

“Fuck, yes! E-Eren, I—” He gasped when the pressure finally returned to its previous state, giving his body its much-needed dose of aggression. “I want you to f...f-fuck me.”

Eren chuckled, deep and dark, and before the other knew it, they were smashing lips, a violent exchange of saliva and pleasure.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he murmured against Reiner’s lips, both of them panting after the impromptu makeout session. He smirked as he slipped his other hand out of his pocket and trailed it down Reiner’s chest, stopping at his pecs and giving them a generous squeeze, earning him a grunt from the blond. “To be honest, I thought you’d come just from me choking you. Kind of pathetic, don’t you think?”

Reiner’s eyes were tightly squeezed shut, biting his bottom lip to prevent any more embarrassing sounds from slipping out.

“S-shut up.” But that couldn’t have been less convincing. The affinity for choking was new, but the chest fondling was old news. The training camp had been torture for him since there were way too many instances of people accidentally brushing against his pecs or nipples, almost causing him to rupture a blood vessel from trying to suppress a squeak.

But Eren was taking full advantage of having it right in front of him, diving his face into them and massaging them with his free hand with a voracious speed as if they’d disappear.

“These have grown a lot, haven’t they?” Eren jeered, pulling back his choking hand to strip Reiner of the top half of his clothing to be even closer to those soft pecs. The second the fabric had been removed, his choking hand returned and he dove right back in, leaving a trail of hickeys on the cleavage made by his pecs.

“Eren! E—a-ah—”

“I’d say they’re almost D cups, I think,” he continued, his voice muffled from the masses of muscle. He pulled back slightly, eyeing them for a moment before opening his mouth and clamping his teeth around the perfectly pink and perky nipple, leaving deep marks in the velvety areola.

“AH! What the—ow!” Reiner’s eyelids shot open, looking to see what the hell Eren was doing down there. All he saw was him grinning proudly, his hand coming up to stroke the bitemarks and not-so-accidentally passing over the nipple, giving it a gentle squeeze and flick. “Eren, the fuck?”

“Get down on your knees,” Eren commanded, and Reiner found himself on autopilot at the conviction in the other’s voice, his knees wobbling before dropping to the floor in compliance. He kept his eyes on Eren’s knees, his previous bashfulness returning; how could he make eye contact like this? He knew what was going to happen next: the horrendous blush on his face and chest made it quite clear.

Meanwhile, Eren was taking his time enjoying the view under him. He bit his bottom lip, letting out another chuckle as he shook his head. “You know, Reiner, I always looked up to you. I never thought I’d see you like this. So...submissive.” He tipped Reiner’s chin up gently with his finger to get the other to meet his eyes. “You never let me get the upper hand in training. You were the one making me drop to my knees.” He frowned. “But now you’re looking up to me. Funny how that works, huh? It only took the murder of an entire village of people and my mom to get you like this.”

Eren teasing him about his choking kink was humiliating. Being on his knees to somebody he saw as a little brother, about to commit even more sinful acts, was humiliating. But being constantly reminded of all the atrocities he committed against his friends was pure torture. It was putting quite a damper on his mood, but he couldn’t exactly tell Eren to stop talking about it because he’d only jeer him more. The only way he could think to get Eren to shut up was…

He dove forward, opening his mouth and wrapping his lips around the bulge in Eren’s trousers, his hand coming up to further massage it. His trousers smelled of grass and disinfectant, but the distraction was clearly working, seeing as Eren’s agape mouth stopped forming words and only allowed a shuddering breath to pass through.

“You’re eager, eh? Alright, I’ll give you what you want.” With one swift motion, he unbuckled his belt and was about to let it drop to the floor, but his eyes flashed with intrigue as they switched between Reiner’s neck and the leather. “On second thought…”

He wrapped it around Reiner’s neck, and before the blond could say anything, he zipped the belt until it was pressed tightly against the pallid skin underneath, already causing it to pinken from irritation. He poked a new hole into the leather, sliding it through and returning his hands to unbutton his trousers.

“You look like a dog,” Eren scoffed. Once his trousers were unbuttoned, he pushed them down only slightly; he didn’t expect this to take too long, seeing as how undone Reiner already was. He gripped the other’s jaw tightly in his hand, maneuvering the chiseled face to look up at him. “Bark for me.”

Reiner, who was still processing the belt around his neck, spluttered about and furiously shook his head, trying to get it out of Eren’s grip. “Hell no! I’m not a damn dog.”

“Hm. Shame.” Eren’s grip on him lessened, only for it to return full force when he transferred it from his muscled jaw to his short hair, the locks sticking straight up in between his fingers. “Then put your mouth to good use.”

Reiner was going to object, but the warmth radiating from in front of him made him drop his eyes to be faced with what looked like an iron rod underneath the linen fabric of Eren’s drawers. He gulped at the sight; if this didn’t fit in his mouth, how the hell was this going to go inside of him? He would have cursed himself for thinking that far ahead, but the act was inevitable—Eren was going to fuck his brains out.

He took a deep breath and leaned forward, pressing a hesitant kiss to the tip wetting the fabric with precum practically sticking up out of the top. He had caught flashes of Eren naked whenever they came across a hot spring or all the boys bathed together, and what was in front of him hardly compared to what he had seen back then. Eren truly had grown in more ways than one.

He shakily lifted a hand and moved the fabric out of the way, allowing Eren’s cock to spring up proudly, almost as if he was mocking Reiner and his need for it. He licked his lips and leaned forward, licking from the base to the tip with a flat tongue, practically drooling over it with the amount of need swirling in his chest.

“F...uck,” Eren groaned, tipping his chin up as his grip on Reiner’s hair tightened. “Got a lot of practice with Bertholdt, I see.”

Just at the mention of Bertholdt, Reiner sped up his stroking and licking, yet again hoping this method would get Eren to shut up and to produce more of those sounds of pleasure. Sure, he seemed to be dominant in this dynamic, but Reiner was the one who held the most power as of now. He could leave Eren blue-balled and walk away, or Eren could do the same to him. They were caught in a lustful dance of power, and neither wanted to walk away, as sinful as it was.

“Wait, you’re going too— shit!” The grip on his hair was growing painful, and it only grew tighter when he opened his mouth wide and engulfed Eren’s cock up to the middle, using his tongue all the while to lap up his drool and his hand to stroke the places his mouth couldn’t reach. He very much successfully got Eren to shut the fuck up, and he smiled to himself as he graciously lent his throat as a substitute for yelling at him to be quiet.

“What a fucking slut,” Eren chuckled, brushing the few long locks of hair that flopped into Reiner’s eyes, tipping his chin up slightly to meet his eyes. “Look at me while you do it.”

Pervert, Reiner thought, but he wasn’t all that different himself, for he looked up at lightning speed and locked eyes with the commandeering man above him, feeling precum and saliva running down his beard. That’ll be a bitch to clean.

“Good.” Just that word was enough to send chills down his spine, his eyelids fluttering with pleasure as he reached his hand that wasn’t busy stroking down between his legs, trying to soothe the throbbing pain spreading in his groin. But he was interrupted by Eren groaning and his grip on his hair turning into stone.

“Since you wanna go so fast,” he murmured, cocking his head curiously before pulling Reiner all the way down his cock, the other’s nose nestling in the happy trail leading down his stomach.

GURK!

“It’s satisfying to see you choking on me,” he laughed, tossing his head back to let out a moan as he could feel Reiner’s throat tightening and moving around him, the softness of the back of his mouth leaving him breathless. “I’ll fuck you in a second, but in the meantime…”

He gave an experimental thrust, slow and shallow, leading to more gurgling and choking noises from the man below him, drool beginning to build up in the corners of his mouth and dribble down his chin. Reiner’s hands flung out to grip Eren’s thighs, trying to process the fact that he was being facefucked.

“Mmgh—nngf!” He tried desperately to slurp up as much drool as he could, but it was beginning to pour now, down his chin and onto the floor, gathering into a pool near his knees. His eyes were watering, the tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes.

“F-fuck yeah,” Eren growled. Now equipped with more confidence, he pulled out of Reiner’s mouth partly—giving the other a short sense of relief—before snapping his hips forward, lodging himself deep down in his throat. A horrid gagging sound released itself from his throat, squeezing between his cheeks and Eren’s cock. His stomach dry-heaved, but he had hardly any time to recuperate before Eren launched back into thrusting himself over and over into his mouth.

“Hah— fuck, this is good,” he groaned, a smirk ever-present on his lips. He could feel Reiner’s throat straining against the belt as it expanded, which only provided even more tightness. However, his smirk disappeared once he felt a familiar warmth building up in his stomach, signaling he was almost at his end. He lowered his head from the thrown-back position it had been in before, and he almost finished on the spot when he saw the lewdness on Reiner’s face. The blond was beet red, his cheeks looking as if he had been slapped over and over—which he had somewhat been, with Eren’s stomach—his mouth berry red and stretched to accommodate the cock he was sucking so deliciously, gobs of spit running down his chin, and tears trailing down those highlighter-red cheeks. God, he looked gorgeous.

“Well,” he mumbled, pulling out of Reiner’s mouth and allowing him a moment to breathe and cough out all the phlegm and irritation gathered up in his throat. He only added more spit to the pool in front of him, falling onto hands and knees as he spat out the last of the spit and precum that accumulated in his throat.

Eren let out an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes as he buried his hand in Reiner’s hair again and roughly tugged him up to his feet, the other whining and complaining the entire way. He faced the blond for only a second before turning him around to face the wall and shoved him against it, his chest pressed against the cold stone. While his hand was busy holding Reiner’s wrists together behind his back, the other trailed down to grip his ass, giving it a firm squeeze before slipping it underneath the waistband of his trousers.

“Your mouth pussy was fantastic, but I want to use the real one,” he explained, his lips leaving the tip of Reiner’s ears bright red as he stroked the soft skin underneath his hand and cupped the mounds of well-built muscle. “What a bubble butt. Heh, you really worked hard on this. If your muscles are this tight, I can’t imagine your asshole.”

“Mm!” Reiner whimpered, his shoulders hiking up to his ears to protect them from the assault of Eren’s hot breath and humiliating words. He tried to break free from Eren’s grip on his wrists, to no avail. Both his wrists and his neck were restricted, and although it was uncomfortable, it only made the throbbing ache in his pants even more painful. How he developed this kink, he had no idea—all he knew was that he wanted relief, now. “Eren...Eren, please. Fuck me. Ple—guh— ”

“Shut up for a second,” Eren commanded as he forced two fingers into Reiner’s already heavily lubricated mouth, sopping up the spit dripping from the roof of his mouth and tongue. He shuddered at the feeling of Reiner’s soft tongue wrapping around his fingers, amazed that such a thing was on his cock only a few moments ago and even more amazed that he didn’t come on the spot. He used his thumb to push Reiner’s pants down to his ankles, marveling at the view of his back muscles rippling under his pale skin, fighting against the restraining grip on his wrists, followed by the elegant slope into the two golden apples for an ass.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, lowering his head and opening his mouth to deliver a deep bite to the virgin skin at the nape of Reiner’s neck, sinking his canines into the flesh in an almost animalistic motion, causing Reiner to jolt from underneath him.

“Eren, stop with the biting!” Reiner pleaded, but he couldn’t help the whispery moan that passed through his lips at the thought of being marked.

“Sorry not sorry,” Eren replied with a snicker, resorting to leaving hickeys to further mark his presence on Reiner’s body, proudly screaming I was here and fucked him beautifully. “You clean back here?”

The mere insinuation that he wasn’t made Reiner want to turn around and snap Eren’s neck right then and there, especially considering he very much doubted Eren was. He grunted, the awkwardness of that question causing nausea to boil in his stomach.

“I...bathed for the festival earlier today,” he explained haltingly, his blush radioactive at this point. But when Eren didn’t move right away, he sighed and opened his legs slightly, wrestling one wrist free and trailing it down to his asscheek, spreading it open as a very clear invitation. “Hurry up.”

Eren’s eyes widened, and a heated smile filled out his face at the sight of Reiner coming completely undone and practically begging to get fucked. Before the spit on his fingers could dry, he spread Reiner’s cheeks with his other fingers and plunged his index and middle fingers inside, earning a squeal from the blond.

“S-slow! Slower!”

A confused look crossed Eren’s face, but he shrugged and continued to scissor Reiner open, curling his fingers against the soft walls to try and find that one spot that drove men crazy. He found out about that quickly while at the hospital, a male nurse being particularly caring and spreading his legs open to cure a patient.

“I thought you’d be looser than this,” he replied, genuinely baffled at how tightly Reiner’s grip around his fingers was. How the hell was he supposed to fit inside? They said the bottom being tight is more pleasurable, but he imagined it’d downright hurt his dick.

“You jackass, I haven’t done it in a-a wh... while,” Reiner stuttered, a grunt sneaking in between his words as he tried to accustom himself to the feeling. He was arching his back as much as possible, but he quickly discovered it could arch much more when a sudden wave of pleasure crashed over him and a lustful cry made his mouth drop.

“Found it,” Eren sang, a proud grin spreading across his lips.

“Hng-! ” was all that came out of Reiner, followed by heavy breathing and small whimpers as he tried to regulate his breathing, but it was difficult when Eren ruthlessly continued abusing that spot now that he knew its location. “Eren...it feels...a-ah…”

“My fingers are magic, I know,” he replied with a shit-eating grin, and although Reiner’s back was to him, he could feel the bratty expression he was making.

“Oh, shut up, you idiot,” Reiner groaned, about to insult the other once more before another wave of pure pleasure corrupted him and returned him to his panting, sweating state.

After a few more moments of scissoring and dirty talk, Eren pulled out his fingers, much to Reiner’s dismay, and gripped himself as he stepped closer and lined himself up with Reiner’s entrance.

“Alright, get ready,” he joked, bracing the wall with one hand and snaking the other around Reiner’s neck once more, pulling his head back so that he could see the look of shock in his eyes as he slowly pushed the tip inside.

“Ngh!” Tears were gathering at the corners of Reiner’s eyes again as he attempted, again and again, to relax and breathe the pain away, but it didn’t help that Eren was so well-endowed. “Just...slow—go slowly.”

Eren pulled out at a snail’s pace, looking down to see where they connected before pushing back in, earning a low groan from both the men. “I don’t even have to try. You’re so tight, I can’t fucking move. Feels like my dick is going to be pulled off.”

Reiner rolled his eyes, about to say something until a sigh interrupted him as Eren continued to pull out and push inside, staying at the same pace. “I can’t control that. I hope your dick gets pulled off. Maybe then you wouldn’t be a murderous basta— hngh!”

A slap echoed in the small room from Eren giving one solid thrust, the roughness of it seen from the reddening of Reiner’s ass. He chuckled at the other’s reaction and tightened his grip on his neck, the belt making it a lot easier to yank him back and force him to meet his eyes. “Watch your words, Braun. Or else,” he gave another rapid thrust, causing the fat on Reiner’s ass to ripple from the force, “that will happen.”

“O-okay, okay, I’m d-done!” Reiner cried, his arm reaching back to grip Eren’s shirt for leverage while the other clung to the wall for dear life. “I promise, I’ll s...nngh...stop.”

“That’s what I thought,” Eren taunted, licking a trail up Reiner’s cheek, picking up the salty tears spilling from his eyes along the way. “You think I can move now without losing my dick?”

Reiner didn’t answer. All he did was lower his head as much as he could with Eren’s grip on it, preparing himself to lose the small ounce of dignity he still had left. He arched his back and pushed back onto Eren’s cock, gasping at the feeling of it spreading him apart and leaving him so perfectly full. He swirled his hips, trying to find that spot Eren so easily discovered, all the while pulling out and swirling his hips as he pushed back. It was quite the ab workout, causing sweat to build up on his hairline and building a thin sheen on his skin.

This was heaven on Earth. The view was spectacular, but what was more spectacular was watching Reiner act like a complete slut, as if Eren’s cock was the only thing that could bring him relief and pleasure. He was really willing to give up all his dignity just to use it to pleasure himself, and Eren couldn’t have been more willing of a participant.

“I guess that’s the answer to my question,” he breathed, a moan causing him to throw his head back. He dropped both his hands to Reiner’s hips, riding alongside their gyrating motions. “Yeah...that’s nice. Keep moving like that.”

“Eren,” Reiner warned, looking over his shoulder now that his neck was freed. “Eren, move, goddamn it.”

Eren cocked his head. “Is that how you ask for it?”

“Oh, for fuck’s—Eren, please, fuck me. Ruin me, do what you want, just please fuck m— ”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” It only took half a second for Eren to comply with Reiner's wishes, snapping his hips forward and sending Reiner careening toward the wall, his face pressed up against the stone just like his chest was. He’d definitely have scrapes on his face as it bounced up and down with each merciless thrust that practically sent him up the wall.

“ Ahn—ugh! Fuck, fuck, yes! Feels good, f-feels so—hnngh! ” The dry slapping noises eventually turned into wet, squelching sounds that would have made Reiner cringe, but he could barely hear them in the fugue state he was in. Eren was right: he felt like a dog in heat, his mind on nothing else but getting pounded until he was filled.

“Faster! God, faster! Ngh, harder!”

Reiner’s moans leaked, and as much as he wanted to stop, he didn’t have the energy since all of it was going into not finishing right then and there. It was just what he needed, except…

He tilted his head back, which was difficult with how roughly Eren was slamming into him, but he eventually caught Eren’s eye and smiled. “Choke me, Eren. Choke me until I can’t breathe.”

Eren smiled back, his grin malicious. “You got it, sweetheart.”

He took that command to heart because instead of one hand this time around, he used both hands, wrapping them around Reiner’s neck and using that for leverage instead of his hips. It was honestly a nicer angle to better fuck Reiner into oblivion, and he used it to his full advantage.

Smack, smack, smack, smack…

“ Guh— ugh, fu-uck,” Reiner groaned, practically gargling his own words with how he could barely breathe. Meanwhile, Eren was struggling with holding back his own moans with how velvety soft Reiner’s walls were, hugging him like the most comfortable sweater in the world. How did he go this long without taking advantage of the hole that had been around him all this time?

“I never thought you’d be this easy of a lay,” Eren remarked, graduating one hand’s place from Reiner’s neck to his hair, pulling it and pushing his face into the concrete. “Who knew you’d open up to me this easily? If I knew, I would’ve fought Bertholdt for access to your ass.”

The fog of lust clouding Reiner’s brain long enough for him to understand and process Eren’s comments, and, even though it was nearly impossible to speak anything other than moans and whines and emote anything other than pleasure, he still attempted to reach backward and scratch Eren’s hip, leaving three bright marks on the tanned skin.

“After this is over, I’m going to kill you,” Reiner managed to say when Eren stopped shortly to readjust his angle. He was very grateful for that split second of clarity because once Eren started up, instead of brushing against that spot, he was directly nailing it over and over with perfect precision.

“ OH— oh, my God, I-I’m—too much, too much, I’m so— ah, hah... c-close—!” Reiner was incoherent at this point, finally reaching the “brains fucked out” stage of this brutal hookup. He could no longer think. All he could do was moan, pant, and cry out each time his spot was abused.

“ Hah—I’m gonna come soon, t-too,” Eren breathed, having his own difficulties with speech. He tried to act as cool and collected for as long as possible, but now, it was nearly impossible, with each thrust drawing out the warm feeling in his stomach more and more. It also didn’t help that Reiner kept tightening around him with each thrust, giving him all the components to finish. He just needed one thing.

“Where do you want it?” Eren whispered, dropping his head to take advantage of the last few moments to leave more hickeys all along Reiner’s neck and collarbones.

Reiner was beyond redemption at this point, evidenced by the fact that he all but screamed out, “Inside! Please, inside, come inside, I n-need it, I need you, please, I—”

His orgasm was sudden and unexpected, but Eren hit his spot at the perfect angle and speed, causing it to rip through his body. He was left speechless, going rigid as his vision spotted before going completely white, finally receiving the release he had been chasing over the past half hour. He heard somebody wailing, and when his consciousness returned to him, he realized he was the one making that awful noise, his vocal cords frying themselves with the unadulterated ecstasy running through his system.

Eren didn’t take much longer to follow, giving a few more slams—rougher than all the ones preceding them—before coming undone deep inside Reiner, groaning at the feeling of warmth coating Reiner’s walls and making his insides even hotter than they already were. But he wasn’t done. In his state of bliss, he managed to pull out of Reiner—earning a pitiful whimper from the other—and turn him around to push down on his shoulders so that he was on his knees again.

“Fuck, fuck—fuck! ” Eren couldn’t help the countless exclamations of pleasure that racked his body as he stroked himself furiously in front of Reiner’s face. The last of his come splashed on Reiner’s face, coating his cheeks and the bridge of his nose in the milky white substance. Yet again, he wasn’t done. He smeared the tip across Reiner’s lips, painting them with the same glossy color. And with that, he was done, stepping back to admire his handiwork. He grinned, satisfied with the result.

He had completely ruined Reiner Braun. His hair was tangled and sticking out in all different places. His eyes were red from crying. His face was completely coated in sticky, hot semen. He could barely open his lips without it stringing between them. Tears stained his splotched cheeks, and dried saliva ran down the entirety of his chin and throat. His chest was red as well, full of bite marks and hickeys. His neck was a completely different story—it was probably rubbed raw and full of scratches and finger indentations, all of which were hidden under the belt. And then…

“Turn around for me and bend over,” Eren said, his last demand of the night.

He had evidently turned Reiner into an obedient subordinate because without a single complaint or hesitation, the blond nodded submissively and turned around, revealing his back that was full of scratches and the deep bite mark at the nape of his neck. To think, he’d probably be targeting that nape in a couple of minutes once again, except it’d be for the kill. He wondered if, when he’d rip Reiner from the nape of his Titan’s neck and admire his dead body, the bite mark on his neck would still be there.

Reiner bent over, lifting his ass in the air and dropping his chest and face to the floor, a look of pure embarrassment on his soiled face.

“Beautiful,” Eren whispered to himself as he watched his come pour out of Reiner’s hole, running down his leg and dripping onto the ground. “Satisfied?”

Reiner, from his docile place on the floor, nodded his head, his hair flowing back and forth on the ground. “Y-yes...thank you…”

He then collapsed to the floor, his hips no longer able to sustain his own weight. His legs were trembling, never having experienced such a savage fucking before. It had always been loving, sweet, slow. But he quickly found that he had been severely deprived of something he so desperately needed. He’d probably get brain damage from all the choking he was going to do in the future, but that didn’t matter. He already planned on dying soon, anyway.

“I’m going...to kill you...after this,” Reiner continued, severely out of breath.

Eren walked over silently, squatting down and brushing the hair out of Reiner’s sweaty and dirtied face. “I’d like to see you try. You can barely walk.”

He laughed and pat Reiner on the rear, standing back up and walking over to the exit as he fixed his trousers and buttoned them.

“But thanks for the good fuck. I needed that. Honestly, if I hadn’t made everybody from Paradis come rescue me today, I’d save this battle for another day. I’m feeling very…” He lifted up his hands, looking at his nails and running his fingers through his hair. “...relaxed right now.”

Reiner was half-asleep, but he was conscious enough to have heard Eren’s words loud and clear. He snapped his head up and turned to stare at Eren to see if what he heard was the truth, but all he was met with was Eren adjusting his shirt and tightening his hair into a bun.

“P-Paradis?”

“Yeah. Heh.” Eren looked over his shoulder and winked. “I’ll catch you out there, then. If you manage to survive, come to Paradis. I’ll give you a very special welcome.”

And with that, Eren Yeager exited the room heavy with the smell of sex and quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Reiner Braun was left alone—used and besmirched with a fucked-out mind—to mull over what just happened and what will happen in only a handful of minutes.

Eren fucking Yeager.

#attack on titan #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger #eren yeager #reiner braun #eren x reiner #smut #aot smut #fanfiction

61 notes · View notes

veinsandknuckles · 3 years

Text

Fucking in the bushes

(Here’s an old The Walking Dead Shane Walsh/f!Reader one-shot I don’t think I ever posted to this blog) Shane's been pursuing you for a while now, and this is when you let him catch up to you. Rated R Content warning: unprotected PIV sex, Shane’s being a little bit dodgy

-----

“Shit, darling, I’ve wanted this so long…”

His lips were rough now, pressing against your neck with hard kisses and he held your wrists tight above your head as if you had any intention of slipping free. As always when Shane was desperate he stammered a little, his eyelids fluttered, his voice came close to breaking. His curls tickled your cheek, he leaned out a little to look at you, nudged your chin up to search your eyes for doubt. The emotion in his face was almost frightening, he was trying to handle you with care but his eagerness made his touch rough and clumsy.

Right now it didn’t matter if this was a terrible idea, if his words were true and you’d regret encouraging his obsession, because you could feel his thick, hard cock through his horribly high waisted pants pressing against your stomach and the thought of stopping now didn’t stand a chance.

You couldn’t find the words for a reply and instead pulled out of his grip and pulled your vest up over your head. Shane swallowed, took in the view for just one quiet moment before he slid two greedy hands up your sides to cup your breasts, kiss your collarbone and groan against your cheek when you moved on to unbuckle his belt. He stepped back, gently brushed your hands aside and made quick work of pulling his shirt off and zipping down his fly. That left you to try your best to get out of your jeans without falling face first into the grass, and you managed to pull both panties and one leg off entirely before Shane slipped a trembling hand up your thigh, with his forehead pressed to yours and his brown eyes wide open in wonder. His thumb grazed your clit and two fingers slipped effortlessly between the folds of your cunt and his grin was equal parts smug and amazed. “You coulda come to me a lot sooner, you know,” he breathed and all you could manage in response was a soft gasp as your wetness trickled slowly down to his knuckles. “You’re just so full of yourself… I didn’t wanna encourage it.” “When have I ever been full of myself?” Shane laughed. Talk would be useless so action would have to do and even if you might want to hide it even from yourself, the truth was that you were just as eager by now as he was. You pressed your hand against his erection and every glance you’d stolen and every dirty thought you’d repressed came back with a vengeance, nearly winding you. So thick… you could picture it inside you already and the promise of it made your cunt clench, as hungry as a whirlpool, desperate and wet. You managed to slip your hand past his fly to grab him and try to get him free with trembling, clumsy fingers. Shane was hard almost beyond belief and if you hadn’t remembered how bossy and patronising he could be at times you might have felt bad for him. But when he sighed in relief and you looked up to find him still grinning, raising his eyebrows as if he expected you to shower him with incredulous compliments that sympathy died in its cradle. So he was almost gifted enough to warrant his top dog attitude and ridiculous man spread, and you were eager and panting enough for him to know you had been picturing it. Didn’t mean you had to give him everything he wanted. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” he grunted, self satisfied and at least five percent serious as you finally managed to pull his cock free and he chuckled again when you shot him a murderous look. “I can still leave, you know.”

To test that, Shane slipped two fingers inside you, curled them towards himself and you whined. Your legs didn’t seem to be doing their job. Screw him, and screw what he or anyone else would think. With two shaking hands you pulled his head down towards you and kissed him, deeply, breathlessly and without finesse. He was up against you again almost immediately, grinding his dick against your hip bone and moaning into your mouth. Rough, dry hands scrambled over your skin, trying to angle you, lift you up against the tree in some way that wouldn’t hurt but the bark scraped your shoulder blades and your yelp of pain stopped him in his tracks. He stepped out, wiped his brow and looked around wild eyed for an alternative. There was nothing out here but trees and dirt, and in the end he just gently pulled one leg out from under you and lowered you bodily down to the ground, with him following immediately on top of you.

It was a little awkward but you managed to get your legs free long enough to spread them for him, reached down, took his cock in your hand and slipped it inside you before he had a chance to say anything that might tempt a change of heart. Shane groaned, shut his beautiful eyes tight and let his weight bring him down deep into you, achingly slowly until his hip bones pressed against your thighs.

There was so much you wanted to say and do to him in that moment. He filled you so perfectly, straining against your slick walls, and looked so gorgeous above you that the bickering, the danger, everything dark that had brought bitterness into this unlikely not-quite-friendship seemed to melt away. But there weren’t enough words and the most your weak limbs could manage was to wrap around him and force him to stay here inside of you. Shane pulled out as far as you’d allow him and pushed back in, deep and hard, making you squeal. He put his weight on one elbow and roamed your body with his other hand, twisting your nipple between his fingers, pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts, came up to slide his palm across your throat and move your head so his lips could find yours. You tried to hold on and move against him but your hands scrambling over the grass found no purchase. It didn’t matter, the dirt rubbing into your skin didn’t matter, the twigs leaving scrapes and bruises along your back didn’t matter if it meant being fucked like this and at his mercy. And his voice by your ear… gruff, pained with desire, heavy with the words he couldn’t or wouldn’t say. “Darling,” he sighed and at least for right now you knew he was sincere. “So fucking beautiful, I wanted to have you like this since the first time I saw you…”

“Yeah,” you whined. “You… you should have fucked me sooner, Shane…”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so quick to shoot down his attempts to keep things light. His cocky, self assured playboy way of “flirting” was bad enough, but there were times you caught him looking at you with such desperate sincerity that you almost wished you could still believe he was joking. His eyes would widen like he couldn’t take enough of you in, his hands would flex as if he had to fight to control what they reached for, his jaw would tense and he’d swallow to force the heat back down into his stomach. The only difference now was that he didn’t even try to conceal it.

“That’s right, sweetheart…” you could hear him swallow, struggling to keep what little cool he still had, and there was no humour left in those black eyes when he kissed you next. All you could see on his face was deep, dangerous hunger. “Say my name, I wanna hear you say it…”

When you licked your lips and tried to catch your breath you tasted the salt of his sweat on them. Who were you trying to kid? Every time he pushed back in your eyes rolled back in your head, shivers spread out from every inch of your skin that he kissed. What did it matter if Shane was bad, if he’d earned the dark looks from the rest of the party, if Dale’s vague warnings had substance? If he wouldn’t let you go now that he had had you once, would that really be so terrible? A whimper from you made him shudder and curse and he gripped your face with one broad hand to kiss you, comfort you but he couldn’t know the reason. You’d pictured yourself like this, pinned beneath him in his tent, in camp mere feet from the rest of them, every night he wanted you, with his hand over your mouth, shushing you, coming inside of you and holding you in his arms while you fell asleep beside him. However long the two of you still had, you could spend it with him and it was both a terrifying and a wonderful thought. So what if he’d be overprotective, bossy, jealously guarding you? Of all the monsters you’d met that had wanted to eat you alive, he was the only one who could make you enjoy it.

“Shane, Shane, please…” you whined and by your ear he responded with a broken moan and a rushed in-breath. “I’m here, girl,” he growled, dug his fingertips into your shoulders, leaned in closer. “I’m here, no one else is gonna touch you.” Threat or promise, it made no difference. You pulled your knees up give him space, he rolled his hips to fuck you deeper, his stomach ground against your clit and together with his heart beating against your chest it was almost too much to contain. So you pressed your lips to his shoulder, bared your teeth and used his flesh to muffle your cries. That seemed to do it. The pain made him grunt and it must have taken him by surprise because he forced himself in deep one last time and before you had a chance to realise what was about to happen, you heard your name on his lips and felt his cock twitch and pulse inside you. “Shane!” you smacked him on the shoulder blade and he instantly pulled out. Too late - the cum trickled out of you the moment he withdrew and the last few drops landed on your already sticky thighs. “Fuck,” he panted. He rolled onto the grass by your side and flung his arm over his face, tried to recover and looked sheepishly over at you to get a sense of the damage. When the slap he’d expected didn’t come, he let his gaze trail down your form and grinned. “Damn, that looks good.” “Yeah, well.” You snatched his shirt off the ground and unceremoniously used it to mop up the worst of the mess he’d made. “Don’t get used to it because you’re not doing that again.” Shane sat up and tried to look sincere. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You got me there faster than I expected.” It was hard to stay mad at him when he smiled like that, looked at you like that and when you still ached to feel his touch on you. And he knew it, too – he stroked your cheek with his thumb, brought his lips to yours and sighed against your mouth. The bastard was right and you fell forward into his embrace with just a moment’s hesitation. After all, hadn’t you just determined to damn the consequences and have this?

All the sounds around you were natural and ordinary. Branches lifting and falling with the wind and sending ripples through the leaves, birds setting back down in the clearing and resuming their calls, his slowing breath running through the soft hairs on your neck. These moments never lasted long enough to be a respite. Instead they made the weight of the world seem even heavier when you shouldered it again and it was hard not to think of them as a selfish, unnecessary luxury no matter how much logic told you you needed them. An affair with Shane might be ill advised in itself, but starting anything, no matter how shallow, was surely bad enough…

“What the hell are we doing?”

Shane shrugged. “I guess we’re just doing the best we can.” He pushed your head towards him and kissed your hair. “Hell, I know it’s dumb but I need… I need this. And maybe it’s cheesy, but I can’t stand seeing you hurting and alone.” “You know you don’t have to say that, Shane. I’ll fuck you whether you sweet talk me or not.”

He snorted and perhaps you felt a sudden tension in the shoulder you leaned on, but he kept his tone as calm as it ever was. “Fine, don’t believe me. Sooner or later you’ll see I’m right.”

You parted your lips to bite back with something clever, but when you thought back you couldn’t deny that he nearly always was right in the end. He predicted a darkness no one else wanted to face and as much as you might want to put yourself against his pessimism, he had reality on his side. Did he have to be wrong now?

“Well, whatever this is, I think I like it.”

Shane kissed your hair again and breathed deeper. “Good. So do I.”

#the walking dead #twd #shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh imagine #my fics

163 notes · View notes

ickaimp · 3 years

Text

[HTTYD] Break your heart, steal your crown

Sometimes ya just gotta write angst. Lotta people liked Coming Down is the Hardest Thing, my version of the ‘Hiccup runs away and becomes the “Dragon Master”, Astrid’s offered up as a Sacrifice years later’ tropes without Hiccup being a dick, and there were requests for sequels, which I didn’t do because this was all I had. Two years post Coming Down is the Hardest Thing, 4220 words, angst and some fluff.

"Berk is dying."

The words sat heavily in the air of the smithy, lingering like a spectre between Stoick and Gobber.

Stoick almost wished he could take the words back, but that wouldn't change the accuracy of his words. Berk was dying.

Gobber closed his eyes and sighed, giving him a weary nod of agreement. So he had seen it too. Or more likely, he had seen it in Gothi's last roll of the bones, before she had gone to bed and passed away in her sleep, leaving the fortune out for Gobber to read when he found her body this morning.

He hadn't actually told Stoick what the bones had said, giving him the same world-weary look he was currently wearing instead.

Even without the soothsayer's predictions, Stoick could see it. The twins had left years ago, declaring that the isle was too boring for their pranks, setting sail with only a chicken as their companion. It had seemed like a blessing at the time, less things exploding in their wake, leaving Berk a much quieter place than it had been.

Then came Spitelout's stupidity with Astrid, offering her to the savage Dragon Master. They'd gotten her back, only for her to disappear a week later. She'd left a note that this time was by her choice, but it'd been little comfort.

This left Berk's next generation without any women old enough to be wives. To become mothers to bear future generations.

With the Jorgenson clan name soiled by Spitelout's actions, Snotlout was no longer able to be Stoick's heir. The other clans would never treaty with someone whose family had literally brought the Dragon Master down on their heads during a meeting of the chiefs. Except for maybe Dagur, and that was not a glowing recommendation, given the Berserker's... instability.

Which left Fishlegs as the only remaining of Berk's next generation to lead. The lad was smart, there was no doubt about it, and he would be fantastic as a second in command, the next Chief's Gobber, he was too quiet and soft to be a leader. The politics would eat him alive. And worse, Fishlegs was aware of this.

There were other children, Gustav and his ilk, but they were too young to start training as the next Chief of Berk. Stoick ran a hand down his beard, more grey than red from the stress and sorrow. He didn't have long enough to train one of them up.

And Berk's numbers were dwindling in other ways. Many had not been able to adapt to life without dragons to fight, finding a peaceful life did not sit well with their warrior blood. They'd left, being adopted into other clans. They'd just lost another family that way today. Stoick wished them no ill will, but if this continued, then they'd find their numbers too small to maintain the community.

Even Gobber was growing bored, not having enough work to keep the blacksmith busy. Without the dragons, there was no need for weapons, and the simple farming tools they had didn't need as much maintenance. Stoick looked around the smithy, his eyes falling on the curtain leading to a small room that Gobber wouldn't allow anyone into, his own private shrine to his missing godson.

And then there was the loss of Hiccup, the first of Berk's children to leave. The Dragon Master's words, that Hiccup was happy and healthy where he was, was little comfort without being able to verify this. There was little Stoick wouldn't do in order to be able to see his boy again, for even just a moment. Sometimes he wondered if this wasn’t his fault. The path had seemed clear when they were constantly being raided by dragons. But without the raids, he was floundering. His people were looking to him for direction, and he had no experience with peace to know what to do. More and more they seemed to realise this, and left. Seven generations of vikings had lived on this isle, going all the way back to the first chieftain, his many times great-grandfather, and it was starting to look like he’d be Berk’s last chief.

"I wish I had some words of wisdom for ye, my friend." Gobber said softly. "I-"

Stoick jumped as something flew in through the window and landed on Gobber's face.

It was a green and brown Terrible Terror, who was making a high pitched growling sound as he crawled all over Gobber's head. "Don't move." Stoick rumbled, reaching for his sword.

"Ach." Gobber made a sound of annoyance, reaching up and grabbing the Terrible Terror by the scruff of its neck, pulling it off his head. "What're you-"

He trailed off, eyes drifting upwards and Stoick realised that it was the sound of a larger dragon's wings flapping. A Deadly Nadder, unless he missed his guess. Stoick gritted his teeth, feeling fire in his veins again, eager to have something to fight again, to take this rage and frustration out on.

"Oh no." Gobber said, a look of horror crossing his face as he glanced at Stoick. That was all the warning Stoick found himself being spun, his arms being bound behind his back with a pair of iron manacles, and he was flung through the curtain into Hiccup's old room. He landed against something softer than he expected, falling to the ground.

"GRUMP!" Gobber commanded, sticking his head through the curtain and pointing to Stoick. "Sit."

With a complaining groan, something large and heavy pressed down on Stoick. He grunted, trying to push himself up with his shoulders, but the weight was too much for him to get leverage.

"I didnae want you to find out like this." Gobber said, sounding apologetic, the Terrible Terror riding on his shoulder as if this was a common occurrence. "But if you value yer son's life at all, do not make a sound."

Stoick opened his mouth to bellow, only to find a rag shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. He growled, ire filling his veins as Gobber turned away, pulling the curtain shut. The torn fabric didn't go all the way to the ground, leaving Stoick with a clear view of the smithy.

When he got free, and got his hands on Gobber...

A blue and gold Deadly Nadder head stuck it's head into the doorway of the smithy, then carefully stepped in, taking care not to bump into anything in the small building. A crowned pale spectre rode on it's back, white and grey wisps obscuring the figure.

"Gobber!" The spectre greeted the smith with a cheerful voice. The spectre raised an arm, throwing what looked like a bridal veil over their crown, revealing inhuman features covered in glittering blue scales.

"Is good to see you, lassie." Gobber returned the greeting, his voice rolling with affection. The spectre laughed, reaching up for their head and pulling it off-

-Revealing Astrid's smiling face.

Stoick stopped fighting, going lax in surprise. It had been almost two years since he'd last seen Astrid, grim faced and bitter before she disappeared. She seemed to practically glow with happiness now, as she slid off the Deadly Nadder's back, giving a little hop before leaping into Gobber's outstretched arms, giving him a tight hug.

"Good to see you too." Astrid declared, holding him out at arm's length. Stoick could see that she was wearing armour now, covered in scales that matched the Nadder she rode. She wore a skirt, cape, and veil made out of ragged strips of a thin sheer white fabric that seemed to dance in the air when she moved.

The Undead Bride of the Demon was Astrid. Stoick recognised the Nadder now, it was the same one that she'd flown when the Dragon Master had kidnapped Stoick from the Althing.

"What brings ye here?" Gobber asked jovially, the merriment sounding slightly forced. "Not that I'm complaining, but was nae expecting t’see you for another week or two."

A stab of betrayal felt like a knife between his ribs.

"We have news." Astrid bounced and gave a little hip wiggle of delight. It was a gleeful carefree movement that Stoick didn't think he'd ever seen from the usually tacturn lass.

"Hey, wait. No fair." A shadow at the doorway protested, and Stoick found himself growling as he recognized the outline of the Dragon Master and his demonic Night Fury. The Dragon Master swung a leg over his so-called brother's neck, standing upright on his cloven foot and moving towards them. "I wanted to see Gobber's face when you tell."

"Not my fault that you're being slow, my sweet husband." Astrid grinned, giving another skip-hop to give a little kiss to the side of the Dragon Master's scaled helm and Stoick growled, wiggling as he trying to get free, but the weight on top of him didn’t budge.

"Wait a moment." Gobber breathed. "Astrid... Your belly... You cannot mean..." He trailed off, too choked up to speak.

Looking at her in silhouette, he could see what Gobber meant. Astrid's previously flat stomach was curved out in a very distinctive solid roundness.

Astrid was pregnant. And from the casual arm around her shoulders that the Dragon master had around her waist, the babe in her belly was that demon's.

Stoick would kill him. He'd kill him for touching Astrid. He'd rip the foul creature limb from limb, and then he'd get rid of that Night Fury who was sniffing around the room-

All thoughts faded from his mind as the Dragon Master took off his helmet, revealing his face for the first time, and Stoick's breath caught in his throat.

It couldn't be.

The messy brown hair, almost reddish in the candlelight. Green eyes. The fond crooked grin on his narrow face, having finally grown into his ears.

"Hiccup." Gobber said, his voice thick with tears. "Astrid. You've got a wee bairn on the way."

His son. That was his son standing there with an arm around Astrid, the two of them shining with happiness.

His son, the Dragon Master.

"I'm about five months along." Astrid beamed at Gobber, resting comfortably against Hiccup, the two fitting together like matching puzzle pieces.

"We were hoping you'd agree to be the Godfather." Hiccup said, and Stoick didn't know how he hadn't heard it before, in the Dragon Master's dry sarcasm. It was his son's voice, a little deeper than as a teenager, but the nasally tones could only be him.

"Godfather-?" Gobber echoed in awe.

"It's not dependent on if you take up our offer to live with us." Astrid was quick to assure him. "But we'd like you to be. We wouldn't be having a kid if it wasn't for you."

"You got Astrid out of Berk, and you saved my life by taking me under your wing here." Hiccup said sincerely. "We're also open to them calling you 'Grandpa', if that's okay with you."

Grandpa.

Stoick was a Grandfather.

He felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes. He'd never thought he'd have that chance, not after his son went missing. And here his son was, was, healthy, happy, and with a wee one on the way.

"Och." Gobber shook his head. "I couldn't."

"You can." Astrid grinned, reaching out and taking Gobber's hand in hers, scales and claws curling delicately around calloused scarred skin. "We talked to Valka about it. She laughed and said she's fine with it. Someone else to share the responsibility of dirty diapers."

The tears spilled over his cheeks. Valka, his dear sweet Valka was alive as well.

He remembered now, the Dragon Master saying that he had his mother's eyes, and he did. Skies above, he did. Hiccup had always had Valka's clear eyes that seemed to penetrate and see more than anyone else.

"I mean, you did more to raise me than my own father did. It's only fair." Hiccup added without any trace of bitterness as he gestured around the smithy. "All of my fondest memories of Berk are here."

Stoick's breath caught, feeling as if a sword had just been thrust through his chest.

"Someone had to keep an eye on you." Gobber shook his head dismissively. "Otherwise some dragon would have flown away with your toothpick self."

The Night Fury, who had been circling around in the background, stuck it's muzzle under the curtain. The beast sniffed the air for a moment before poking its head all the way into the small room, it's acid green eyes narrowed into slits as it stared at him, a low warning rumble coming from its throat, lips curling back to show a giant maw full of razor sharp teeth.

Stoick stared back, uncomfortably aware of how vulnerable he currently was. The creature could bite off his head in one bite, and there was no way for Stoick to protect himself.

"Oh nooooo. How terrible." Hiccup deadpanned in the background as Astrid laughed. "Carried away by draaagons."

The great weight on top of Stoick shifted and grunted, and he realised that it was a giant heavy dragon that was currently sitting on his back. The Night Fury crooned what sounded like a question to the creature pinning him down, getting a snore-like rumble in return.

The Night Fury glanced back down at Stoick, giving him a look that could only be described as 'scornful' before turning away with a smug expression and trotting back over to his son. Stoick watched as the beast gave an amused warbling at his son, casually headbutting Hiccup, sending him into Astrid, who took a half step to keep them all upright.

"Oh!" She gasped, then took Gobber's hand that she was still holding and pressing it against her belly.

"They're moving!" Gobber gasped. "Oh, they're a fighter, just like their parents."

Stoick's breath caught again. His grandchild. His grandchild was moving.

"The only thing that really settles them down is when the dragons sing to them." Astrid looked amused. "Even if the dragons are confused as to why I haven't laid an egg yet."

The Night Fury gave Stoick a pointed look, then nudged Astrid's belly with it's broad flat nose, giving a soft affection croon, as if to point out that the creature could touch the babe in Astrid’s belly, but Stoick could not. Stoick choked on the gag in his mouth, silently swearing vengeance.

"Which is part of the reason why we stopped by early." Astrid said gravely, and Stoick wondered how much more news he could take tonight.

"Valka says I'm probably fine for flying up until I give birth." Astrid said, wrapping a protective arm around her belly. "But we decided that fighting is out until afterwards. So it may be awhile before I'm back in the area."

"Trapper tried to kick her in the stomach." Hiccup growled, and all three dragons in the room echoed the sound, even the Terrible Terror on Gobber's shoulder. The sound covered up Stoick's own noise of outrage at such an act. "Stormfly stopped them, but it gave us all a bit of a scare."

Astrid nodded, leaning against Hiccup, who looked a little anxious, rubbing his hand up and down the blue scales of her arm. "I can still do air support, but the pregnancy is making me exhausted lately. Which is probably only going to get worse." Astrid looked annoyed. "So we're all going to be staying with Valka at least until I give birth."

"It's not like the Hidden World really needs Toothless and I to guard it." Hiccup said with wiry humour. Stoick blinked, finding he had no more room for shock. Of course Hiccup found the home of the dragons. Of course he had. "But if you did decide to accept our offer to live with us, we didn't want you looking in the wrong place and thinking the worst."

"And Valka promises not to cook in your honour when you do show up." Astrid smirked. And Stoick nearly choked on muffled laughter, aware he was crying again. Valka had never been the best cook, but she tried. And it'd been worth every burnt and raw bite he'd choked down.

"Thank you." Gobber's voice was thick. "But I cannae leave just yet. Your Father needs..."

"I know." Hiccup hastened to assure. He stepped forward, wrapping a clawed hand around the back of Gobber's head, resting his forehead against the blacksmith's. "When you're ready, we'll be there. Even if you're never ready, we just want to make sure you know that there is a place for you."

"You just don't want to be the only one with experience making protestetics." Gobber grumbled, and Hiccup laughed, tapping his cloven foot on the ground, making a ringing sound.

Hiccup's prosthetic foot, Stoick realised, watching the spring inside the metal contraption flex. His son was missing a foot.

And Stoick had no idea when or how it happened.

"You caught me." Hiccup didn't sound angry about it as he released Gobber, more jovial than anything. "But it doesn't make it less true."

"I'll think about it." Gobber promised with the air of having said the same thing many times before, taking the Terrible Terror off his shoulder and transferring it to Hiccup's.

"And I'll teach you how to make Dragon Iron when you do." Hiccup said with a grin, his voice both teasing and cajoling.

Dragon Iron, which the Dragon Master was the only one who knew how to make. Because Hiccup had been a smith since he was six years old, put under Gobber's eye to keep him out of trouble.

"Stop trying to bribe me, you brat." Gobber cuffed him upside the back of his head with a grin. Both Hiccup and Astrid laughed, even if the Night Fury gave Gobber a glare. "Now g'wan. Get out of here before you're seen."

"Yeah, yeah." Astrid rolled her eyes and stood up on her toes to give Gobber a quick fond kiss on the cheek. "We'll see you later, one way or another." She informed him matter of factly before putting her helmet back on and climbing on top of her dragon, settling the veil around her shoulders.

"Take care of yourself." Hiccup clasped Gobber's hand, then pulled the larger smith in for a back thumping hug before releasing him. "And say ‘hi’ to Grump for me, wherever he's snoozing at."

"Will do." Gobber agreed blithely. "Stay safe, all of you."

The Night Fury let out a warble as if to say that it was his job to keep them all safe as Hiccup fastened the helmet back on his head, transforming back to the Dragon Master. The beast gave Stoick one last pointed look as Hiccup climbed in it's back, before turning and heading out of the smithy, both the dragons and their riders losing their relaxed easy going postures.

Astrid followed a few heartbeats later, following Hiccup's soft whistle. There was the sound of wingbeats, and then they were gone.

Leaving the smithy empty aside from Gobber and Stoick. It was with a sinking realisation that he realised he probably wouldn’t get another chance to ever see Hiccup again.

The Dragon Master was essentially Chieftain to the dragons, a role that clearly kept him busy and constantly travelling all over the archipelago and beyond. Stoick knew first hand how busy having a newborn kept one as well. It would be months, if not another year before Hiccup would free to visit Berk. And there would be no way for Stoick to know where or when.

Gobber gave a great big heaving sigh before turning back towards Stoick, his peg leg sounding loud against the ground. Gobber moved the curtain aside, and then knelt down, removing the gag from Stoick's mouth.

"I'm sorry y'had to find out this way." Gobber said softly, and the thing that hurt the most is that he could feel how sincerely his oldest friend meant it.

"How long?" Stoick asked, ignoring the way his voice broke.

Gobber gave a thoughtful hum, reaching up and petting the dragon on top of him. "Almost two years now." He finally said. "I recognized Hiccup's work on the blade the Dragon Master gave Astrid when he returned ya both here. Astrid had suspected as much, it just confirmed it for her."

He'd travelled with his son for an entire day, and Stoick hadn't a clue it was him.

Stoick, who had sworn that he'd be able to recognize his son anywhere, any time, in any place.

Horror went down his spine as he remembered the accusations he'd hurled at the Dragon Master after the dragon had crashed into their camp. Threatening to kill the Dragon Master in order to find his son.

His son, who had been right there. Who had told him while hidden behind a mask, that Hiccup was alive, healthy and happy where he was, far away from Berk.

Away from Stoick.

"About a month after Astrid left, she stopped by for a visit, ta let me know she was fine." Gobber continued, nudging the dragon off of Stoick. The giant creature grumbled as it slowly obeyed, leaving Stoick still shackled and on the ground. "The next visit, she brought Hiccup, and we cried together for nearly an hour."

Gobber paused, checking his pockets for his keys, then started to work on the manacles around Stoick's arms. Stoick had broken through stronger bonds before, but he didn't have the energy in him now.

"They stop by every every other month or so to check in on me, let me know how they're doing, or send a Terrible Terror with a letter." Gobber continued quietly. "Valka's been by once as well, weren't real comfortable here and left just as quick. Too many memories of blood shed."

The manacles released with a click, and Stoick slowly moved his arms, his shoulders protesting having been twisted in such a position. He carefully sat up, turning to face the monster that had been on his back.

And found himself looking at the least dangerous dragon he'd ever set eyes upon, for all its enormous size. It was large enough that it had probably only been it's head that had been resting on Stoick's back, and looked like it was already asleep with its eyes half open.

And it looked like a giant turd. Large, brown, and lumpy.

"This magnificent fellow is Grump." Gobber motioned to the sleepy dragon, with a fond expression. "They left him with me for back up, and so I have a way to meet up with them some time. He's been running the forge fires for me. Never realised how helpful having a dragon in the smithy could be before Hiccup mentioned it, even if the great lump sleeps most of the time."

Grump slowly turned an eye in Gobber's direction, thick club of a tail bouncing a few times as if realising that they were talking about him. He briefly wondered how many months the dragon had been sleeping here and no one had even suspected.

Stoick felt as if everything he had believed in had suddenly been turned upside down and shaken about. Dragons possibly weren't evil. His son was alive. He had a grandchild on the way. Hiccup was the Dragon Master.

"Is he happy?" Stoick asked, mindful of the tears still on his cheeks. "Hiccup?"

Gobber thought it over. "Aye." He finally said, stroking his moustache thoughtfully. "The lad weren't never made for being a Viking. Living amongst the dragons brings him not only comfort, but joy. Astrid and Valka too. Once you've earned a dragon's loyalty, there ain't much that can break it. And the three of them fit among them like they were born for it."

Stoick nodded. "And you?"

"Me?" Gobber looked surprised at the question.

"Will you be joining them?" He had the invitation and the dragon.

Gobber hesitated, looking at the slumbering dragon. "I'd like to." He finally admitted. "Some day. But not any time soon."

Because he was staying here, for Stoick's sake. He'd told Hiccup that clearly enough.

Gobber was his oldest and dearest friend, loyal to a fault, and Stoick couldn't blame him for keeping HIccup's secrets. Not when Stoick's reaction to meeting the Dragon Master hadn’t been nearly so generous, even as he realised that the Dragon Master was only trying to help in his own way.

"You should join them." Stoick said, rising to his feet. Gobber looked like he wanted to protest, and Stoick stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "When you're ready."

Gobber closed his mouth and nodded. Stoick nodded back, then walked out of the smithy. The cold air hit the tear tracks on his cheeks, and he ignored it, trudging up the hill to his cold empty hut.

He had gotten his wish, to know that his son was not only alive, but thriving. Astrid too. And Valka as well, his wife living amongst dragons for nearly two decades now. He was so elated to know that they weren’t dead.

Stoick wouldn't trade that knowledge for anything, not even with the understanding that the reason for their happiness was that they were living their lives far away from him.

-fin- (no, there are no plans for anything further in this au, but if it sparks something in you, feel free to play.)

#HTTYD #how to train your dragon #stoick the vast #gobber the belch #astrid hofferson #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #toothless #icka fic

378 notes · View notes

the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo · 3 years

Text

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 4

Good morning, afternoon, evening fam. Hope you all are doing good.

Here's the next installment of Missed Opportunities. There's one chapter left. Hopefully this one will be enough to tide you over to the finale.

Thank you for all the continued support. Love you all.

-----

Tag-List:

@ajeff855 @vrsidae @greeneyedblondie44 @bbakugaan03 @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @aisling1985 @fillechatoyante @maria-chwan @neoarchipelago @lostghostgirl94 @whovianayesha @mochminnie @fanfics-ig @congurl @ay0nha

Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it’s easy to lose people in the mix and I don’t want to miss anyone!

For previous chapters go here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Word Count: 2,462

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You were violently woken up in the middle of the night. At some point, during the early hours of the morning, you must have rolled over onto your side. The movement caused your bruised body to send a jolt of stinging pain to your brain, immediately causing you to jerk awake.

You squeezed your eyes shut and took deep breaths to ride out the wave of agony. After the pain subsided, you let out a small groan and attempted to situate yourself again. You failed to find any real rest after that incident and faded in and out of sleep until you could see dawn about to break. Through your restlessness, you thought you could hear faint murmurs and reassurances in your ear.

Delirium must have set in, because when you woke up for good this time, you realized you had a blanket covering your body and a heaviness on your left hand.

You lolled your head to the side to avoid the faint rays of sunlight streaming into the room. You blinked several times before peering down at your hand, which you now noticed, was being held by another person.

Remembering the previous night's events, your eyes travelled up the arm of the person holding your hand, tracking all the way until you landed on the person's face.

Zemo.

He was still here with you and apparently had fallen asleep during the night.

You swallowed thickly and not because of the throbbing pain coursing through you. Your eyes flicked up to the nightstand to see the book he was reading placed neatly at the corner.

He chose to stay.

Your eyes moved back to look at Zemo. To really look at him. He seemed so much younger in his sleep. The tense concentration lining the features of his face each day were gone. The weight of his decisions and promises he made to himself given a reprieve. You wondered when the last time was he truly slept.

For all the wrongs he had done, the choices he had made, he did so out of grief and love. He's a complicated man to be sure. For all his darkness, there is still a light that shines brightly in him.

Though you disagreed with his methods of avenging his family, you knew from his actions, that when Helmut Zemo loved, he loved with his entire being. There was no question about it.

For this one moment, you decided to give in. You softly brushed your thumb back and forth against the skin of the hand holding yours. If you could give him one brief second of comfort, you hoped it was this.

You smiled to yourself as you watched Zemo snuffle in his slumber and unconsciously tighten his grip on your hand, but not uncomfortably.

You had the irrational urge to run your fingers through his hair, but he was sitting too far out of your reach. So you settled for continuing to stroke gentle touches along his hand.

His presence was calming. Safe. There was no where else you wanted to be right now.

You looked up to the ceiling to glance at the digital clock projecting the time. 5:42AM. Definitely too early. You wondered if Bucky and Sam had returned from their outing last night.

If you were to guess, you'd think not, because they most likely wouldn't have allowed Zemo to stay with you the whole evening.

You twist your neck up to the night stand and tried to grab your phone with your bad arm. It wasn't your best idea. You had full range of motion again since Bucky popped your shoulder back into place, but the soreness was downright breath-taking, and coupled with your ribs, you were wheezing with effort to retrieve the phone.

Your finger tips manage to grab the edge of the phone. You attempted to scoot it closer to you so you could grip it better. Unfortunately, you ended up clumsily knocking the phone onto the floor with a clatter, arousing your companion out of his sleep.

Zemo snapped to attention immediately. With his years of military experience, it would disappoint you if he didn't.

He quickly assessed the room before his gaze landed on you. The tension in his body released once he realized there was no threat. His eyes dropped to the hand he was holding.

You could see his brow furrow in confusion, as if he didn't know how his hand got to be where it currently was. Zemo tilted his head in thought, eyes never leaving where your hands were joined together. You could see an indecisiveness written across his face. After a beat, he seemed to resign himself to whatever was running through his mind, because he sighed heavily and gave a sad smile. Then he gently lifted your arm towards him to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

"Hi," you shyly responded. Zemo's kiss was just the barest brush of his lips against your skin, but it was electric all the same. You were too stunned by his action to do or say anything else except stare.

"Morning," he rasped quietly. His voice was still riddled with the remnants of someone who had just woken up. He brought your hand back to the bed as he made a move to sit up in his chair more appropriately, "How are you feeling?"

You cleared your throat and licked your lips as you take stock of your injuries before answering him, "Been better. Could have been a lot worse."

"That's not what I asked," he said, clearly unimpressed with your attempt to dodge answering him properly.

"I'm in pain; however, it is manageable," you answer him honestly. You felt he deserved that for having stayed with you the entire evening, and you didn't want him feeling guilty over whatever it was that was eating at him.

You maneuvered yourself to swing your legs over the bed captiously and sort out your stiff limbs without making any sudden quick movements. Zemo silently held out his arm in an offer of assistance, should you need it.

"Are Sam and Bucky not back yet? I can't imagine they would let you stay here and watch over me," you glanced at Zemo, trying to make light of the heaviness hanging in the room. You used your good arm to brace yourself on the nightstand next to you to push off of and stand up.

Zemo lowered his arm and stood up from his seat once he saw you were okay to move about on your own. You saw him turn his head towards the door which was cracked opened slightly before facing you fully.

"They did come back briefly early this morning to check on you. And you are correct, James did, in fact, kick me out, but both he and Sam left again for a few hours. They should be making their return soon. I must have dozed off at some point when I came back to check on you, so thank you for waking me. I would like to avoid a confrontation from either Sam or James," Zemo worded carefully.

You felt as if he were leaving something out, but decided against calling him out on it.

"I appreciate you staying, but you didn't really need to," you replied earnestly, shrugging a shoulder.

"On the contrary, I am the reason you are in the state you are in. It was the very least I could do," Zemo said.

You knitted your brow together and moved to look at Zemo more closely. Lips pursed, it was your turn to be confused.

"I'm not following. You weren't even here when everything went down with Walker yesterday," you expressed slowly and hesitantly.

Maybe it was just too early in the morning to have sensible conversation.

Zemo shook his head and stepped close enough that you could smell his cologne again. He raised his hand to trace the bruise forming across your collarbone.

"Walker was searching for me. And you, you put yourself in harm's way to protect me, indirectly as it was. Whatever your reasonings were, I cannot remember the last time someone was willing to show such an act of resilience, of kindness towards me. And for that, I owe you my deepest and most sincere thanks," Zemo clarified to you. It did not go unnoticed the hidden layer of emotion laced in his voice as he spoke to you.

You could have just brushed his comment off with an excuse that Walker was such a pain in the ass, you refused to give him up on the preface you simply wanted to piss him off.

But that would be a lie, mostly.

Instead you grabbed Zemo's hand, the one that was tracing your battle scars from the previous day and lifted it high enough so that you could wrap your right arm lightly around his torso and your left arm around his shoulders and into a hug.

As you snuggled up against him, careful not to disrupt your injuries, you turned your head so that your nose barely touched his jaw and whispered into his ear, "You're welcome."

Unlike the first hug the two of you shared, there were no death grips this time. This hug held so much more. An acceptance of one another. A promise.

Reluctantly, you untangled yourself from Zemo to peer up at him.

His gaze roamed over your face, searching. He brought his hand back up to rub his thumb gently over your cheek.

He had that look on his face again. The one that looked like he was fighting with himself about something. Then you saw his eyes drop to your lips and back up to your eyes.

Oh.

You leaned into his touch ever so slightly. This was probably a very bad idea, and you shouldn't let this continue.

"Zemo," you breathed.

He dropped his head against yours and dragged the tip of his nose down the bridge of yours.

"Helmut. You can call me Helmut," he murmured.

Your hands were flat against his chest and you hesitate lifting your head to close remaining distance between you to kiss him.

"Helmut," you voiced, the soft resonance of your vocals floating through the room.

You saw him shut his eyes, a small twitch of his lips curl in an upward motion before he opened them again.

He must have sensed your hesitation because he drew back, but only enough to get a read on your face.

"I apologize, I shouldn't have -" he started rambling, dropping his head to reprimand himself.

You draw your hands up from his chest to his neck to prevent him from stepping away. You needed to make sure he understood.

"No, Helmut. That's not - this is okay, I just -" you paused, giving yourself a moment to make sure you word what you want to say to him next properly.

"I can see the conflicted look on your face. I just - I would never," you trailed off, gathering some courage, you drew in a deep breath before continuing, "I would never want to put you in a position where you felt that you were disrespecting the memory of your wife."

There. You had said it. Zemo had been through so much and you couldn't let him kiss you if he still felt like he would betray the memories of his family.

Even if it were for one brief and fleeting moment between you two, you couldn't do that to him. And you wanted him to make peace with everything on his terms, and not just for the emotional roller-coaster you're on, whatever it may be that lies between you both.

You felt him stiffen in his stance, clearly not expecting you to say something like that to him.

He looked at you for a few moments before twisting his head to stare out the window. He had dipped his head in contemplation and turned back to you.

You could feel him shutter a few deep breaths and when you met his gaze again there were tears glistening in his eyes.

His mouth opened and closed, but no words had come out. You could see him struggling with what he wanted to say.

"It's okay. You don't owe me any answers right now," you said. You tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Zemo huffed as he blinked back his tears and shook his head.

"Schatz. You truly are a piece of work," he said, a mixture of amusement and awe heard in his voice.

Zemo opened his mouth to say something else, but you heard the entrance to the apartment open and the voices of Sam and Bucky trailing.

You both turned your head to the door in mild alarm. Without much time, as you're sure one of your friends will be making a bee line to check on you, you start to unzip Zemo's hoodie you went to sleep with last night.

Helmut's eyebrows shot into his hairline and his eyes widened in shock at your undressing in front of him.

You give him an outrageous expression, as you carefully remove your injured arm from the garment and then your other, before handing it to him.

He took the garment hesitantly, a look of confusion on his face.

"An excuse as to why you were in my room, as I'm sure they are going to want to know why you're still in here. There's no way one of them won't spot you leaving. At least you'll have a good reason," you explained rapidly, trying to keep your voice from reaching Bucky's ears.

Zemo nodded in agreement at your cleverly crafted plan, and moved to exit the room. He paused at the door and looked back to you. You could tell he wanted to say something before leaving.

Later. You mouthed to him.

He sighed, but you knew he understood this wasn't the right time to have an extended conversation.

You saw him poke his head out the door before ducking back in to give you a mischievous expression.

You narrowed your eyes at his sudden mood change.

He left your room and could hear him faintly walk down the hall. You turned to walk to your in-suite bathroom when you heard a large clatter and shout from Sam.

"Bucky!"

"It wasn't me! you heard Bucky reply.

There was a snicker and then a door closing from not too far away.

"Zemo!" You heard both Sam and Bucky shout this time. Foot steps followed and some banging on the door down the hall. Hushed whispers could be heard after that.

You continued your journey to a nice shower and some pain killers. Yup. Never a dull moment around these guys.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#helmut zemo #tfatws #helmut zemo x reader #my writing

51 notes · View notes

justatiredghost · 3 years

Text

Everything I ever wanted Ch3 Read More AO3

Dave died in Vietnam, but then he suddenly wakes up again in some sort of science facility. He has no idea what’s going on or where Klaus is, but he’s pretty sure he’s a prisoner. (The Commission has the technology to offer Five a new body, but since the Hargreeves siblings went on the run after failing to stop the apocalypse, they’ve managed to advance that technology even further.)

Dave jolted awake, half remembered memories of pain and terror spurring him on as he scrambled off of a bed, trying to get away while he still could because he wasn’t restrained anymore. He was moving too quickly, his stiff limbs protesting, but he didn’t want to waste this chance in case it was all he was going to get.

His legs gave out almost immediately and he fell to his hands and knees, a pain in his chest knocking the air from his lungs. He clutched at the spot, gasping, trying to catch his breath as agony radiated through his body. Then he remembered the gunfire, the blood, and seeing his own lifeless body laid out in front of him.

He clawed at his shirt in his panic, pulling it down enough to see, but there was no blood, not even a scar. He gagged at the memory, but he didn’t have anything in his stomach and ended up retching painfully. Once he’d regained himself, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and, while he waited for the world to stop spinning, glanced around to get his bearings. He might as well, nobody was trying to stop him yet, after all.

The room he was in was pristine, white walls and minimal furniture that looked generic enough that they probably duplicated them for hundreds of rooms that looked exactly like this one. It reminded him of the barracks, just without bunks filling every space available. It wasn’t a home and it wasn’t a hospital, just a place to sleep at night.

There were two doors, one propped open and leading to a small bathroom, the other large and heavy-looking, like the kind meant to keep someone inside, just without the bars. There was a huge window taking up most of the wall next to the door, but the glass was dark and opaque and he couldn’t see anything through it. Maybe it was just a bad mirror.

None of this made any sense. He had no idea where he was or what could be happening. At least he wasn’t tied down and kept company by his own corpse anymore. His stomach clenched threateningly. He wondered what they’d done to him. It felt absurd to even consider, but what if he really had died? What would that make him, some sort of clone? Was he even the same person?

But then, how was that even possible? All of this was so surreal. This sort of thing didn’t happen, not in real life. And definitely not to a nobody like him. Maybe this was all some sort of hallucination induced by whatever they were using to keep him under for surgery. Or maybe he was just dead. Whatever was going on, the one thing he was sure of was that he needed to get out of there.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to stand up. The world swayed and his knees shook, but he didn’t fall this time. Using the bed and wall for support, he made his way towards the door. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any sort of doorknob or lock. It was just a solid surface. He pushed on it, banged on it with his fist, but nothing happened.

There was a solid looking white side table next to the bed, and, with a shrug, Dave picked it up and threw it at the window-mirror-thing. He put as much weight behind it as he could, but he just felt too weak and wasn’t surprised when it bounced off ineffectively. That didn’t stop him from trying a few more times, until he collapsed to the ground again, winded, his limbs feeling shaky like he’d been marching all day and night. It didn’t seem like he was getting out of here any time soon.

“It seems like a waste of time to me, but if it makes you feel better, by all means, please continue.”

The voice startled him and he looked up in surprise to find that the glass was no longer dark and opaque. Now, he could see through to the corridor outside and an older woman watching him with some amusement, smoking a cigarette. She crossed her arms, apparently pleased by the effect her entrance had had on him. Something about her unsettled Dave. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew this woman could be incredibly dangerous.

“Where am I? What’s going on?” he asked, clambering back up onto his feet, trying not to show how wary he was of her. “And where are the others? I was on the front line; where’s the rest of my squad?”

“My, aren’t we just full of questions,” she said with a chuckle. “Lets see. Where to begin? Well, you are at the Commission headquarters. The R&D department, specifically.”

“Can I leave? Or am I a prisoner.”

“You’re not even a tiny bit curious as to what the Commission is?”

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure you’d give me an honest answer.”

“Fair enough,” the woman sighed. “We do safeguard all of space and time, but very well. Moving on; the Umbrella Academy, or, the Hargreeves siblings, a name you’re no doubt familiar with, have been causing us quite a bit of trouble lately.”

Hargreeves? As in Klaus Hargreeves? He had mentioned the Umbrella Academy before, so it was possible. Dave nearly asked in his excitement, at this hint that he might still be alive, but he bit his tongue. He still didn’t know what she wanted and he didn’t want to give anything Klaus wouldn’t want her to have. So he simply stayed quiet and hoped his expression didn’t give him away. He doubted it. He never had been very good at that sort of thing.

“We’d like to strike a bargain with them; put an end to all this nonsense. This is where you come in. Since you were obviously close to one of its members, we brought you back as a sign of good faith.”

“Brought me back?” Dave echoed, worried he knew what the answer was going to be. He just needed to hear it.

“What we’ve done here is a scientific marvel, really,” the woman said, looking pleased with herself. “Sure, we can recreate a person’s body, keeping our employees at the top of their game, that’s easy. But bringing someone back from the dead? That took a bit of creativity. But I’m proud to say it worked in the end. Hopefully our next experiment will prove just as fruitful.”

Dave could hardly listen, too stunned to pay attention. So he really had died. He absently brought a hand up to rub at his chest, where he could so vividly remember the feeling of having a ragged hole ripped into him. He tried not to think about that. He tried not to think about how the grief on Klaus’ face had been the last thing he’d seen before it all went dark.

He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the here and now, like he did on the battlefield. He could have a breakdown or something later.

“So,” he said, taking a deep breath, hoping his voice would be steady. “What you’re saying is that you want to use me as leverage to bribe the Hargreeves to stop fighting against you?”

“‘Bribe’ is such a crude way to put it,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “We’re doing them a favor. And you, too. We can all come out of this with something we want.”

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” Dave said. “I appreciate it and all, but maybe you should put me back where you found me. I won’t be part of anything that might put the Hargreeves in danger.”

“Oh, rest assured, that can definitely be arranged,” she said and her cruel smile made him certain that she would follow through with it without hesitation if the mood struck her. “We can certainly do this the hard way, too, but we’d much rather do this with your cooperation. It would be so much easier.”

Dave always had a feeling there was more going on with Klaus than he let on. He’d said some things, painting vague pictures that Dave still struggled to completely put together. It didn’t help that they’d been high for a lot of their discussions, too. But this seemed like some sort of secret government shit that Klaus had certainly never mentioned. It was all too big for Dave and he had no idea what to think. Except that he wouldn’t ever do anything that could put Klaus in danger.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t help you,” he said, steeling himself for whatever was going to happen next. He half expected the woman to pull out a gun.

“Well,” she said, adjusting her hat as if it could be anything less than perfect. “The hard way it is, then.” She turned and left, the sound of heels clicking against the floor echoing along the corridor as the window went dark again.

Dave would have slumped to the floor in relief if his legs hadn’t given out first. They were trembling from exertion just from standing there. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so weak. Maybe this was just what it was like, being a clone. Or maybe he needed to rebuild whatever muscle he had had. Later, though. For now, he laid back on the carpet, completely exhausted.

Dave was a lot of things, but mostly he would describe himself as a disappointment in nearly every aspect of his life; with his family, with the military, everything. But the one thing he truly felt proud of was the way he had made Klaus smile, how happy he had seemed when they were together. If that was all he managed to accomplish in life, he would still consider it a success despite all of the other failures. That was the one thing that truly mattered. And he certainly wasn’t going to jeopardize all of that by working with a group that must have done some terrible things if Klaus had decided it was worth it to join up with the Umbrella Academy again.

That was good, though, wasn’t it? His family had never seemed like the most supportive people, but maybe they could patch things up and look out for each other. That’s what Dave hoped, at least. Klaus wouldn’t be alone, and he had his whole life ahead of him. He didn’t need Dave. He’d probably already moved on from him and was getting on just fine. He was a survivor.

Honestly, Dave felt a little bad for this Commission. He wasn’t really sure why they’d chosen him, he wasn’t special enough to use as some sort of bargaining chip. But even then, he wouldn’t want Klaus making any sacrifices for him, either. He didn’t even want to put Klaus in a situation where he had to make that sort of decision. So, he decided he needed to make sure he couldn’t be used against the Hargreeves in any way. He needed to escape, or die trying. If they killed him soon, maybe Klaus would never have to know. He wouldn’t have to grieve for him all over again.

#klaus hargreeves #klave #klaus x dave #dave katz #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #fanfic #everything i ever wanted #hello yes i am feeling desperate to post something new #for anyone still reading my fics #after so long #so here have this #sorry it's so short #anyway #this is post-season 1 #my fic

34 notes · View notes

wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years

Note

Onyx tells Mc she’s pregnant. They hosts a party for everyone to announce of Onyx’s pregnancy. How they announce it and how everyone react are up to you!

Written by @evoedbd

“Hey babe. Welcome back. How was your outing with Na-” the cheer fell from Cali’s voice, as heavy and rapidly as a brick dropped from a skyscraper. Her heartbeat picked up, even as the feeling of led seeped into every limb, dragging her consciousness towards what felt like a tar pit. Sticky, dooming, encasing.

“Onyx?” She called, brow furrowing as she tried to reconcile the woman who had walked through the door with the usual upbeat, unstoppable Onyx Wren. This woman appeared ashen, pearlescent white save for the usual shadings of her makeup, and the veins running blue beneath her icy skin. Long, flowing blonde hair hung in clumps, tangled around the streaks of meadow green like weeds attempting to devour the most beautiful flowers. Where life had once shone in oceanic green eyes, now there was a dullness, a glazing that only emphasized emptiness. Worse, shoulders which could bare the weight of the world slumped, chained down along with the woman’s feet. No. Onyx’s feet weren’t chained down, they were dragging, as if the act of taking a stride was too much to comprehend yet the need for familiarity and comfort drove the zombie like body onwards.

“Are you ok?” A questioned filled with trepidation. Already, Cali could see that Onyx Wren was absolutely not alright. She could feel it. Sticky hands of a hoard all dragging at her through the bond, making the world entirely too much.

Internally, she fought a war, crossing a list off silently in her search for solutions. What could have hurt Onyx this badly?

A fight with Nahara? Doubtful. Onyx loved that woman, and Nahara had earned that affection. Her hugs were too perfect, rejuvenating and secure. How Cali imagined sinking into a pool of warmed honey or melted chocolate might feel like.

Dorran? Oh, Cali had so many things she could say about him, respect for the dead be damned. Cali was absolutely convinced, out of everyone who had ever existed or ever would, that he was the most deserving the title of Jerk. Lord Jerkington the Gaslighting abuser, the third. Anybody who could do half of what he had done to Onyx whilst claiming to love her, whilst she trusted her body and soul to his romance… Cali couldn’t conceive a punishment fitting enough his horrendous crimes. Her anger had nowhere to go. No conclusion. Nothing dark and despicable enough to bring justice or pay penance. All she could do was vow never to allow Onyx to suffer that ever again.

Vinca? That was delicate ground too, and not an unrealistic conclusion. Cali’s personal grudges aside, after-all Onyx’s twin had turned Cali into a well of supernatural energy with the potential to unleash hell on Earth, Vinca had played her villainous role well. Cali still could trace the numerous scars across Onyx’s body, from throat to gut, which Vinca had left. Also, Vinca had technically gutted Onyx, though she had been possessed by Nizha at the time. Cali wasn’t too sure she could ever erase that image from behind her closed eyes. Or her nightmares.

“I’m pregnant.” Onyx’s voice was so small, so broken and confused. If Cali hadn’t been watching and listening intently, she might have mistaken those words for a breath. Or the aircon.

“… you’re…” The word fell from Cali’s lips on a shocked breath. Well. Babe had definitely been the wrong pet name to use. Suddenly nothing made sense. Her stomach fell out yet her body seemed ready to float to the ceiling, all whilst her nerves suffered a rapid fire mix of dreadful numbness and prickling tingles flowing across her skin to match the static ringing in her ears and pinging around her head.

“I’m so sorry! Please don’t be mad. I’ll be good! I w-won’t disobey o-o-or mess up.” The panic in Onyx’s voice cut Cali to the bone. Onyx fell to her knees, arms wrapped around her abdomen and torso as her shoulders curled inwards. She trembled, green eyes gazing up at Cali as if she were a terrifying Goddess preparing to render judgement upon a defiler. Cali shuddered. Who would want such worship as what Onyx was offering in the moment? Senseless, all-consuming fear? In that moment, Cali realised she could never be an abuser. There was no power in Onyx’s terror, only revulsion. Revulsion that Onyx felt she had to be subservient like this. That her trust had ever been so broken that her default was to cower like a beaten dog, still lovingly licking its own blood from the master’s knuckles.

“I didn’t mean for this, I swear. I-I ca-”

Cali couldn’t listen anymore.

“Onyx. Hey, hey, hey. Shhh, it’s ok. Breathe with me, sweetheart. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” She cooed, collapsing to her own knees before Onyx. The moment she could reach, Cali gently cupped her hands around Onyx’s elbows, tenderly guiding the smaller woman a little closer.

“Reach for me through the bond, how do I feel?” Imploring words were accompanied by every joyful image Cali could summon at that moment. The mewls of kittens, the softness of a puppy’s fur. Seeing Onyx recognise her, even as a dragon. Flying. Watching Onyx fly, be it with the wings of a dragon or across a tightrope in human form. Freedom, beauty, power. Family.

Cali’s heart picked up a marching sprint, beating so rapidly she was positive someone could visibly see her pulse throbbing in her throat if they spared a glance. Pregnant meant baby, which meant children. Onyx. Baby. Onyx. Baby. Onyx’s baby… each time Cali managed to conceive the sentence her heart skipped another beat, beat faster and faster until she was positive her heart would burst. Onyx was having a baby. An actual baby!

“You’re… you’re not mad? You’re happy? B-”

“Onyx. You’re pregnant! How could I not be excited?” Cali began as she lured Onyx to her feet. The former Envy assassin surrendered herself to Cali’s guidance, relaxing even in her confusion. Cali was incredibly careful, her touch remaining delicate, as if she might taint the innocence within Onyx if she moved a single finger incorrectly. Yet, there was also no fear to Cali’s touch. She knew Onyx, just as she knew her own breath. She offered comfort, unconditional support, even without having uttered the words.

“I’m nervous too.” She confessed, finally lowering herself and Onyx onto the couch.

“I mean there are so many things to think about. Is it safe? I mean, what effects on the baby will your dragon side have? Will you lay an egg? I mean, can your body even handle that in human form? Will you be human form for the birth? Who even is the father?”

“I didn’t cheat! I’d never do that to you. Please, you have to believe me.” Onyx’s frantic tone was matched by frantic hands which desperately clutched at Cali. She clung to Cali’s forearm, both forcing Cali to remain close whilst also preparing to defend herself. Green eyes filled with tears, a mix of panic and guilt, dappled with layers of confusion. Despite all of that, Cali saw sincerity. She felt the truth of those words as if they were her own heartbeat.

“Onyx, babe… you died. You died in my arms and came back as a Dragon. Cheating never even crossed my mind. There are some insane magical circumstances that my medical training doesn’t cover. Even if you had cheated or if something had happened, I wouldn’t be angry. I wouldn’t be him. You love me, I believe it with all my heart. Nothing anybody can say or do will make me love you or this baby any less.”

“I didn’t cheat.” Onyx reiterated; her voice much softer yet no less vehement. Her hands surrendered their grasp on Cali, allowing the Asian woman to weave her fingers through Onyx’s. The warmth of her callused hands was enough to earn a soft sigh, though neither woman could confirm who it was from.

“I believe you. D-did somebody hurt you? Onyx, babe, did somebody force himself on you?” The words burnt Cali’s tongue. Bile threatened to rise in her throat. The thought of someone doing that to Onyx. Without the guise of a relationship to force his will, to satiate perverted desires… Cali couldn’t… she couldn’t even imagine it, until she could. From a mental blank, to images of a broken Onyx. To memories of her screams morphed into something entirely different, fitting a different scenario. It was enough to make Cali tremble with fear, revulsion and a rapidly rising tide of rage.

“Nothing happened. Nobody r-” Onyx hesitated, unable to utter the devastating word flashing in Cali’s worst fears.

“- did that.”

“Thank goodness. Then, do you know how this happened?” The gentle question was delivered after a breath of utter relief. Knowing Onyx was safe from that abuse, safe from one of the most brutal of Earthly horrors mankind had ever weaponized, helped untangle the tension in Cali’s aching chest. Her heart stopped seizing in her chest, resuming its marathon sprint.

“I don’t know. Nahara said something about consequences and the past.”

“Rebirth. That was when she was talking about the bond of deceased Envy and the barer of the bite. The possibility of physical manifesta-“ Cali stopped dead. Her mind leapfrogged over the words, gathering them into a net of logic so obscure yet so plausible it felt as if she’d been punched unconscious and now was waking up. Waking to a world where mortal logic no longer applied, and the furthest dreams could come true.

“Oh fuck… Onyx..?” Cali didn’t know if she spoke, only that Onyx’s face pinched in concern. No, not concern. Fear. The murkiness reclaimed clear beauty, obscuring it for all who wished to bathe. It nearly broke Cali to see Onyx shrink, yet her small voice shattered Cali’s heart into smithereens; sent those shards digging into every vein until Cali’s body throbbed with how wrong it was.

“Please don’t get angry.” Onyx whispered, flinching as if expecting Cali to scream. Cali couldn’t. All she could do was go over the basics of Nahara’s theories. A physical manifestation of the bond between Envy, Deceased and Barer of the bite. An echo of the past. The lost reclaimed as new.

“Mine? Ours? Is this..?” Cali begged, she wasn’t and never would be afraid to admit it. Such a glistening possibility was at her fingertips, and she dared reach, hoping against hope itself that the impossible had become even the improbable. A thousand to one? Hell, even a million to one was more than enough. Cali would take any and all chance. Hers. Theirs. A chance to see how she and Onyx may appear a thousand years down the line, a notch in the human species. Proof they had existed, that their coupling had existed. Cali wasn’t dumb enough to consider a baby proof of love, not alone, but also it was. It would be. No matter whether or not that million to one chance was recognized.

“I- I don’t know. It’s possible, probably. I mean, magic? I need to talk to Nahara to find out more. I… it was overwhelming to hear I actually was pregnant and can’t let the dragon out. I just needed time. Needed to talk to you. It could be a manifestation of our bond, or it is something from the past.”

“Dorran.” The name fell from Cali’s lips like a bullet dropped from a tower into the cooling lakes. Oh, how it longed to be thrown like garbage, just as the darkest parts of Cali longed to throw the actual man into a trash compactor and hear him squeal.

“This could be his baby too.” She voiced her conclusion. Even as the words escaped, she felt no change in her heart. There was… she hated the man, she hated the power he had abused over Onyx, just as she hated the idea of him continuing to. Yet, for the baby? For that possibility? Nothing. No hatred, no resentment. No matter how she searched for it. She couldn’t confess how deeply that shocked her. Emotionally, everyone always hoped that they’d accept their partner’s children as their own, but the actuality of that often defied dreams. It was a rare person who could accept such a thing, even in Cali’s situation. To find herself even potentially one of them was humbling, too much, too quickly. Diversion needed.

“That’s one hell of a choice. A dead man, unknown entity, or a key to the gates of hell.” Cali made the understatement of the century after a quiet hissing whistle through her teeth. Remarkably, her tone remained as light as she intended the delivery to be, as if she was discussing what to order for lunch.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Le-” Cali couldn’t even finish the word. Her body moved on instinct, launching into Onyx’s space so that she could gather the smaller woman into her arms. Leave? Onyx couldn’t leave! No, her brain quickly caught up and corrected her internal malfunction. Onyx’s voice had been so small, the chirp of a bird compared to the roar of a dragon. Regardless, Cali was determined to provide shelter, to cage the willing Onyx within her loving embrace.

“Onyx, you died, I thought I’d never see you again. That I might never have another moment with you, even as you were reforming. Now, I’ll get to watch a baby Onyx Wren grow up! How could I be angry? I don’t care if this child is Dorran’s. Hell, even the Devil himself could be the father and I wouldn’t care. I want to be with you.”

“Even with a baby? A baby you didn’t plan, who m-might not even be yours.” Onyx’s words were serious, more so than any Cali had ever heard escape her gentle lips. They were warning, they were a siege to push Cali away even as Onyx hoped to keep her close. It was the last offering, the final out. Cali understood. Her answer here would shape her life. This answer couldn’t be about comforting Onyx, no matter her urges. It had to be truthful, no matter the pain, no matter…

“Yes.” It was the easiest answer Cali had ever given in her life.

“Onyx, we aren’t naturally biologically compatible for reproduction.” Cali’s obvious assessment earned a watery snort from Onyx.

“Whenever I daydreamed of having children, they were always yours. I was already committed to being a mother to any pet or child you had, to being with you. I want this baby to be ours, I want that more than anything.” Cali had to pause, to actually breathe and let her words sink in. Her chest hurt from how hard her heart was pounding, for how she longed for Onyx to want the same things.

“I’m here and ready to be whatever you need me to be for you both. If you don’t want me to be there as the other parent, I can be the cool aunt. Or a friend. Or a babysitter. Anything, Onyx.” Cali concluded, laying her offering out for Onyx to pick through. Silence dominated the room, save for Cali’s hurried breathing and the pounding of matching heartbeats. Or two heartbeats. Did baby have a heartbeat yet? How far along was Onyx? She made a mental note to ask.

“If you want to be, you know, their mom, then I’d love that too.” Onyx finally broke the silence with a soft yet sure voice, a shy smile tugging on her lips. Cali couldn’t help it, she leapt to her feet, letting forth an excited cheer. Finally, all her nerves burst forth, erupting in her version of a triumphant roar. This was HER family. Hers. Hers, hers, hers!

“There’s nobody else I’d rather raise a baby with. Nobody has ever supported me like you. I just don’t want to take your life away, or be a burden.” Onyx continued, reaching up to tuck some of her chaotic hair out of her face.

“Onyx, this isn’t about supporting you regardless of my own feelings. You’re not taking my life away; you’re giving me a life to fight for. A family. Onyx, our family! You’re having a baby, Onyx! It’s a BABY Onyx! Baby! Yours. Maybe mine. Maybe ours. I feel… just feel me, Onyx! Baby! You’re having a baby!” Cali tried to remain calm and mature, she truly did, yet the urge to move overcame her senses. She paced back and forth, using her entire body to emphasize her points. Big, sweeping gestures of her arms accompanied her escalating excitement, turning her into a goofy rendition of a car yard inflatable.

“Yeah. A baby. You… Sweetheart, can you sit down? Just watching you is tiring.” Onyx’s request was accompanied by a summery laugh, one which calmed Cali for all but three seconds. Then, it was back to pacing, phone whipped out of the pocket of her jean shorts so that she could begin to compose her list.

“Onyx, BABY! A baby! Our baby! We have to tell the others! I’m sorry but no more training for you! Also, none of the trash Darius calls food. We should probably look into supplements too, so that the baby is as healthy as possible. Should I call a dietitian for a food plan? And materials! Are you going to make your own maternity clothes? I got paid this week so I could totally go get some fabrics if you te-”

“Y-you want to tell the others?” Onyx cut in, alarm flooding her tone. Cali froze for a second, recognizing the way Onyx’s surprised voice dipped. Oh, Cali realized, she was behaving entirely differently to anything Onyx had experienced. To how Dorran had reacted. That was enough to have Cali’s internal beast snarling, hating how the past continued to hurt. Dorran had insisted on secrecy, on punishing Onyx. Increasing her training, increasing his bullying. Afterall, that had been cheaper than birth control, or a medically safe… Cali couldn’t finish the thought.

“Of course! Onyx, you’re pregnant! This is like one of the happiest days of my life! Top five, for sure! I’m trying to think of everything we need so that we can be ready for this baby. Like, we need to look into our insurance. I don’t think my workplace insurance covers sexy mamma’s who can turn into dragons. Or Assassins. Is there supernatural insurance I need to know about? Are there any doctors for, well, non-normal human pregnancies? Are there any magical medical guides for this? And birthing classes. We need to look into those too!”

“We…” The pondering tone Onyx used broke Cali out of her packing, leading her to look up from her phone.

“… Did I say something wrong?”

“No. It’s just sinking in, you know? It’s really nice to hear you say it. It sounds right.” Onyx explained, her face taking on a dreamy grin. She was so beautiful, glistening in the afternoon sun through the skyscraper windows. Even messy, Cali couldn’t think of anything more captivating than Onyx. Not the sirens of legend, not the most handsome of men. She doubted if the entire troupe, who were the most attractive people she knew, walked in naked that she’d be able to take off of Onyx.

“It feels right.” She confessed in a soft tone, unable to raise her voice above a whisper. The light in Onyx’s eyes… Cali had never seen something so pure. Green, like gazing up the sun through the underside of a wave. The gleam in them was more varied than a kaleidoscope of colours; brighter than diamonds. She had to look away, while her brain still had some function. There was so much that needed to happen, too many lists to write. Lists! That was a good place to start. Cali could do lists. She helped with stock intake, so a simple list on her phone would be a piece of cake! Oh, and her mother! She had to text her mother. Maybe there were some spare books…

“So, I’m going to text mom about getting some medical books out of storage. I’m pretty sure we didn’t sell all of them. They might have some more details on pregnancy. We have to come up with a way to justify everything, maybe we should discuss giving her sight. I’d prefer not telling her we’re fighting demons though. She’d absolutely spit if her daughter in-law was caught in that! Especially since you’re carrying her grandchild! I’d never live it down if I let you fight in your condition. It’d be “Cali, why are you making your girlfriend do everything? She’s pregnant! My grandbaby needs to grow!””

“Grandchild?” Onyx interrupted Cali’s exaggerated impression of her mother. Gone was the kaleidoscope, gone were the diamonds. The wave had crashed down, sending Onyx flailing into the wild tides of her worst fears without anything to hold her.

“She won’t hate me? She wouldn’t ever believe this child could be yours without knowing everything. She’ll assume I cheated. She’ll think I broke your trust and you’re just standing by me because you’re, well, you. You’re too good to walk away from somebody as broken as me.”

“Onyx, I love you. You are the most… I can’t put it into words. You are my… My light. You are not broken, Onyx. You are a literal dragon. Fierce, strong and beautiful. I am so in love with you that I cannot picture my life without you. This feels like my child already. You’ve only just told me and already I feel as if my heart will burst. Surely you can feel how much I already love them.” Cali almost pleaded, kneeling before Onyx. The current Envy assassin reached out, laying a single hand over Onyx’s quivering knee. Cali could feel everything, the tidal wave of anxiety and fears striking so hard and fast that she was almost physically knocked over. She countered, her mind parrying and weaving.

Pizza in a secret alleyway shop, the way hot cheese melted in her mouth, or the strings hanging from Onyx’s smiling lips. Little hands reaching, trying to steal pineapple as Onyx laughed. This was happiness. Love. Safe, secure, keeping their baby proceeded against her chest. So small, yet inspiring something so large. She had to protect, she needed to. Protect both the joys of her life.

The simple concept of the future flowed through their bond, a shield for Onyx to seek shelter behind. Cali herself was blown away by the intensity of her emotions for a distant possibility.

“I can.” Onyx breathed; tone full of wonder.

“I don’t know why I keep questioning you. You’re always kind and sweet. “

“People have hurt you, Onyx. I’d rather you question me a thousand times, a million times, than ever feel unsafe with me. I love you, and Mom can see how much more me I am with you in my life.” Cali insisted, fixing Onyx with an encouraging look before continuing.

“We had the talk when I told her I was bi. About if I ended up with a girl. We talked again after she met you, officially that is. I told her as long as I was with you, at least one grandchild would not be biological. If we even had children. She fully supports my choices and will love this baby with all her heart. She’ll probably spoil them rotten no matter what we say. She already loves you too! You’re the favourite daughter. She’s going to be so excited for her grandchild. Be prepared for a LOT of baby onesie- OH, this one’s cute! Onyx look!” Cali tried to remain serious, she truly did. Yet, curiosity had taken hold and her thumb had all but developed a mind of its own. Soon, she found herself glancing down at her phone, only to see a lovely pastel themed website, filled with baby onesies. Upon spotting a bear on the third row, she excitedly turned her phone to Onyx, which earned an actual squeal of delight.

“Oh my god, that looks like a little Ripley onesie!” Onyx cooed excitedly, leaning closer to support the phone. She couldn’t help but internally swoon over the adorable little bear onesie, complete with little pink pads on the feet. The little hood with adorable little ears, and the stomach patch. The tail, which concealed the buttons for easy changing.

“Right? I’m buying it! Ohh, it comes in purple! Should I get a little leopard?” Cali declared, reclaiming her phone and swiftly adding two versions of the bear to the cart. When Onyx didn’t respond, she paused, turning her gaze to the expectant mother.

“Onyx? Are you ok? Don’t you like them?” Cali asked, her voice going quieter. Once more, Onyx looked so small, trembling in the face of everything. Overwhelmed, Cali realized. Onyx was entirely overwhelmed.

“Cali. They’re both adorable. I’m just scared. How can you be sure Joyce will be ok with this?”

“Err, It’s my mom. She’ll just be thrilled to have a grandchild, no matter if they are biological or not.” Cali responded, unable to fully put into words how she knew. It was simple. It was her mom. Her mom who had supported her throughout life. Her interest in extreme sports, every bump, break and bruise. Her mom had been the first signing her casts, and selling the demon contraptions that damaged her daughter. When Cali’s father had walked out, her mom had been there, fighting to support a child emotionally and financially whilst she herself fell apart. Through teenage heartbreaks. When Cali hadn’t gotten a date for prom, it was her mother who had shoehorned her into a suit and driven her there. When Cali had finally come out as bisexual, her mom had been the first one demanding to know what type of girls Cali liked, gossiping about the boys Cali had only ever expressed interest in.

“But what if they come out with wings? Or, you know, not human?”

“Aside from me being worried how you’ll push that out of a hole the size of a lemon?” Cali questioned with a blink.

“Cali!” Onyx squealed in a mix of disbelief and horror. Her hands came up to her face, covering her suddenly flaming cheeks as she let forth an ungodly groan. Cali couldn’t help but be reminded of Ripley, how the bear concealed her muzzle when Onyx flew across the tightrope.

“Oh god, I don’t want to think about what its going to do to my… well, you know.”

“You’ll still be gorgeous, even if things are a bit different. You know, when I picture mom you, you’re always stunning. I can’t help but think our daughter will be scared her boyfriends will run off with her sexy mamma. You’ll turn into the sexiest MILF.” Cali purred, flopping onto the couch beside Onyx once again with what she hoped was a seductive grin. Strands of shaggy brown hair fluttered everywhere, sticking to Cali’s face in the most unflattering of ways. If asked, Cali would absolutely blame her uncooperative hair for her failed delivery, despite her history of appearing more like a vaguely romantic crab than seductive. Somehow, her dorky display calmed Onyx, judging by how tensed shoulders finally relaxed, and the show-stopping smile returned to her lips.

“That’ll be you, Sweetheart.” She purred in return, nuzzling closer. Cali’s phone fell to the couch, forgotten as the Envy assassin wrapped her girlfriend up in her arms. Both sighed. Everything was right with the world again, at least for a few moments.

“Mmmhmmm, agree to disagree. If our baby is born anything but human, then we tell mom the whole entire truth and teach her how to babysit. The troupe can’t always be around when we need naps, so mom will be happy to have a chance to spoil her grandkid rotten. Besides, she raised me, a dragon will be nothing her brooms of vengeance cannot handle.”

“But, what if the troupe hate me? I can’t help you guys like this.”

“You can’t turn into a dragon because you’re pregnant. That means you’re vulnerable, not useless.” Cali pointed out, giving Onyx an affectionate squeeze around the shoulders.

“Nitza will be after me. She’ll want me, and the baby.”

“I’ll die before I let anybody touch my family.” Cali growled; all traces of her humanity lost in a snarl vicious enough to rival any demon. She felt the rage bubbling, thicker than molten lava in the cradle of a volcano. It consumed, burning through her rationality until she couldn’t tell where her own protective rage ended and Onyx’s began. Onyx may be the dragon, yet Cali’s entirely human body produced sounds to rival Onyx’s alternate form. The former Envy assassin reached out, wrapping her own hand around Cali’s clenched fist, wiggling her fingers between Cali’s until the current Envy had to relax her fist. Had to let Onyx in.

“Ripley and I will protect you, we can take craving shifts! It’ll mean I won’t be on the streets with the troupe, but that does’t mean we can’t both help out here more. We can watch Avi, which will be awesome practice for baby. I can keep gear up to scratch, work on the bikes and you can have more time to design. I know your fingers must be itching to do something creative.”

“They are…” Onyx sighed l, seemingly content to have settled Cali’s rage. The blonde tucked her feet up onto the couch, barely pausing to kick her sneakers off before she wiggled her toes in silent satisfaction. Cali couldn’t help but tighten her arm around Onyx, smiling when Onyx responded by leaning into Cali’s shoulder, forehead buried in chaotic hair.

“but the others will be out fighting while I’m stuck here. It feels like hiding away and doing nothing.” Onyx trailed off, tensing. The sun set over beautiful greens when Onyx closed her eyes, the bedazzling piercing through her cheek acting like the moon across the skies of her expressions. For a moment, she trapped the soft, delicate flesh of her lower lip between gleaming teeth, as if gathering the courage to speak.

“I keep hearing Dorran.” The whispered confession had the dragon within Onyx roaring with rage, something which echoed through the bond. Cali shuddered, brows furrowing as spots took over her vision. For that brief moment she could feel it, the war within Onyx. The uncertainty and doubt mixed with rage. The latter, Cali empathized with. It burned just as brightly within her own heart, feeding into a loop of fury that promised to spiral out of control. Cali didn’t let it, she couldn’t.

Soft feathers, like laying on a marshmallow. The warmth of a spa day, the relaxation. Sticky and wet along the side of her head, into her hair. The rasp of an impossibly large tongue. Laughter. Pride. Love. The certainty of a promise.

“Ignore everything he told you.” Cali urged, barely keeping her opinion to herself. Now was not the time for her to rant about how pissed she was at her girlfriend’s ex.

“Onyx, you aren’t hiding away doing nothing. Not only are you holding a literal dragon back, you’re growing a person! Or a dragonling. You are doing the hardest job in the world. You’re creating a little Onyx! You’re nurturing and providing a safe place for baby to grow. You’re growing a life, Onyx, and sustaining them until they can sustain themselves. Even when you sleep, your body will be working. For nine months, you never get a break. That is way more exhausting than fighting demons for an hour. Can you imagine Cal’s face if he snarks at you? You can be like “Bitch, I grew a nerve cluster today, I’m currently working on a kidney.”

“Sweetheart… You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” There was no laughter in Onyx’s voice, despite the glee taking spark in her eyes. Genuine awe was slathered across her face, radiating until Cali could feel the accompanying emotions through the bond. The littler woman untangled herself from her partner, reaching out to take Cali’s hands for a few moments before her cheeks tinged pink. Without a word, Onyx lured Cali closer, placing the mechanic’s hands over her pale abdomen.

“Nup. I’m scared too, and excited. I just know that you’re my everything, and we’ll figure this out together.” Cali’s words were soft, whispered into the stillness they found themselves submerged in. Cali’s hands were burning, her palms prickling with the tingling heat as she processed what she was doing. Caramel and milk, that was the closest things Cali could associate to the swirl of their different skin colours. Her fingers looked so dark compared to Onyx, casting her in an exotic light, or perhaps Onyx in a mystical one. The duet of tones was dreamlike, earning the largest smile as Cali finally processed the meaning of the gesture. She stared, illogically fearing her callused hands might hurt Onyx and the baby. A breath, accompanied by trembling muscles the few moments before Cali surrendered and placed her hands flat against Onyx’s belly. It was unbelievable! Onyx had barely put on any weight, just enough to be barely noticeable, yet suddenly her body felt entirely new. The definition of her stomach was still there, all lithe muscle and sublime softness, yet there was more too. A curve, small enough to be imagination yet large enough for Cali’s hands to trace. To cup. To protect from the world. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill down her swollen cheeks as her smile grew large enough to rival the Cheshire cat.

“Oh, names! We need to start thinking about names!” Cali added enthusiastically, blinking away her tears. This was her future, sitting just beneath the palms of her hands. A little Wren growing, expecting them to have the perfect name. Cali began to panic. What name could be enough for their baby? Forget names, what title best fit until they decided? The baby was too clinical. Baby had that familiar quality Cali was looking for, but also couldn’t be the name they used forever.

“But I’m barely even showing yet.” Onyx playfully protested, bringing her hands to rest over Cali’s, holding them to her belly. Love. It was so pure, so overpowering. Cali lost it. Her tears began to trail down her cheeks, accompanied by little sniffles as she looked hopefully up to Onyx. Every hope and dream she had flooded the bond, sweeping them both away on a tide so impossibly sweet that the real world dared not invade. Even through their sniffles and tears, Cali laughed, appraising Onyx on a particularly important fact.

“It’s never too early to start thinking! Trust me, it’ll be the first thing my mother asks.”

#Anonymous #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #onyx wren #onyx x mc #sin with me onyx #swm onyx #sin with me envy #swm envy #sin with me #fluff #miscellaneous monday

135 notes · View notes