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olivia091108 · 6 months

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Drunken haze

Summary:you and Steve o on a night out

Word count: 1342

Pairing:Steve o x reader

The whole of the jackass crew was out celebrating the wrap of jackass the movie at a bar even tho we’re all so fucking tired. I wore a black mini skirt and a crop top which makes my boobs look tit-tastic and wearing some black boots suck look so sexy.

We all got here about 11:30 and got straight into shots before Chris dares me to do a suicide shot and he will buy me my next 5 drinks and that was a done deal even though it hurt like a Bitch all of them cheered me on though and I did try to convince Preston to do it with me but he pussied out

1:00am

Bams walked in carrying a skateboard he must’ve stolen from someone outside and I quickly grabbed my drink off the bar before bam skated across knocking loads of peoples drinks off.

I was dying of laughter clinging onto Ryan so I don’t fall when a biker started to chase bam around the bar cos he knocked his drink and wasn’t paying even though we all know bam has the money.

I don’t know what happened but bam walked back in through the front door and had a huge smile on his face he probably messed with the guy and did something horrible like usual.

1:30

The bar was still thriving which made it even harder for us to get served with the rest of the crowed shouting at the bar tenders to make their drinks. So we lifter wee man over and he grabbed a few bottles from behind the bar and passed them over quickly and we scurried to the back of the bar and I challenged Johnny to a bet

Who’ve can get darf out first chooses the losers punishment

“Dave come do shots!” I get Dave to do 4 shots with me bffs Knox drags him away and it goes back and forth and to be honest I thought darf would be here by now.

I head to the bathroom and as soon as I come out I see darf running about and sweating in peoples faces once he spots me he picks me up and drops me onto ehren and we just watch darf mess about.

“Darf I dare you to snort the salt”Steve o says already making a big line

This goes on for a good hour at least until he started to pick up the chairs and dash it across the bar probably hitting people and he had to be escorted out and Preston left with him saying that he needs to get up early. BORE

3:00

Let’s do some body shots bam shouts and they all get very excited to do it all hoping to do it with me.

Y/n since your the only lovely lady here were drawing tooth picks whoever gets shortest does it.

I slowly see each of their faces drop once they pick their stick until ryan happily shouts that he had the shortest.

Mom the table y/n Ryan tells me I can hear the excitement in his voice

Actually Dunn I was thinking that I do the body shot off you.

Alright but be warned I haven’t showed in a couple days.

I lick his neck and put some salt on put the lime in his mouth and then begin. I slowly lick off the salt making the group oooh and drink the shot no hands and take the kind out his mouth by kissing him a bit wich I hope he enjoyed.

The night carried on like this till 3:45 when everyone was getting tired and wanted to leave

Cmon guys one more hour

Nah it’s late I’m gonna pass out soon

I ahve press in the morning Jeff would kill me if I’m too hungover

Sorry y/n next time

With all of them leaving I knew who I could count on to stay. I grab Steve o’s hand and get on my knees and start begging him to stay

Steve o please you know how much fun we have don’t be boring just another hour.

“Yeah dude.” I jump up and fling myself onto him and he spins em round before we say bye and head back into the bar.

We drink a lot more and still ahve as much fun without them. With Steve o anything could be fun even doing bills he would do something to make me laugh.

5:00

We were the last two inside and they have been asking us to leave but we don’t want to just yet steve o even tried to but the bar so we could stay longer.

I climbed onto the bar and pretended to be a stripper on the counter but when the a manger came out and started to shout at us and call the police I grabbed some tequila and grabbed onto Steve o’s shoulder and he helped me jump down and we ran out of their even with my heals I could outrun him.

“Omg Steve I’m so hungry are you hungry?”

“I’m fucking starving”

“Let’s go and get a kebab”

5:30

We are walking down the street and both devouring the dinner kebab when Steve o makes me laugh so much and I put my hand out to grab onto the pole but miss it by a mile and I just feel my body collide with the floor.

It doesn’t even hurt i just start laughing and hear Steve o begin to aswell until he’s crouching holding his stomach. Once our laughter has died down i see that Steve o dropped the rest of the kebab and I roughly push him.

“M’ tired”

“Samesies my place isn’t far but help me take this stupid boots off please” I bat my eyes at him and he helps me take them off and we both start waking with my boots in my left hand and I try to dodge all the broken glass

It took us twice as long as it should’ve because we were winging to eatchother and he kept putting his whole body weight on me and I thought he fell asleep then and there.

We get to my apartment building and get into the elavator and one of the other men on my floor was in there he looks like he’s going to work. Steve o stands behind him and starts to copy him wich makes us both laugh before receiving a dirty look from him and the rest of the ride up we both laugh while shushing the other.

I fumble with the key and slip it into the lock and swing the door open “stevie cmon your gonna get cold” I grab his hand and pull him up from the floor which I’m sure he would’ve slept on

I keep ahold of his hand and keep a firm grip once his eyes latch onto the sofa and continue to pull him towards my room. We both flop down onto the top of the covers and I start trying to remove my uncomfortable party clothes. Once I slide off my skirt and top I’m left in just my thong and I move over to Steve o and help him get out of his clothes but he’s not moving so it’s a lot harder than I thought.

Stevie please just sit up for literally one second I’m tryna help. He does and I raise his arms and take off his shirt revealing his hot torso I then drag his jeans down leaving him in just his boxers.

“Thanks babe” I love when steve o calls me that even though he calls everyone that I feel special when he says it to me. I slide under the covers and steve o follows suite and he’s just as quick to push himself right up against me and wrap his arms round me and lay his head on my chest using my boobs as pillows and he starts to grope them whispering things to himself and soon we are both asleep when the sun starts to come up.

I love nights out with Steve o

Omg this is actually horrendous they barley even fancied eatchother and that maybe I’ll redo it or just fix it when I have the time

Speaking of I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a week I’ve had so much home work and I’ll try and post more often (I literally only have 19 followers don’t thing anyone noticed lol)

Requests always open 😁

-liv

#liv’s writing #jackass x reader #steve o #steve o x reader

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xiexiecaptain · 1 year

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Shadow & Bone rewatch deep dive commentary that was started on twitter and is being moved/continued here!

This is the post for EP 04: Otkazats’ya

[Episode 01 post] [Rewatch Commentary Links Masterpost]

((There WILL be spoilers mentioned for the books in the Grishaverse including the Crows duology & King of Scars duology! This is basically from the perspective of watching the show as someone who knows the books well.))

(Just a disclaimer that I’m picking up doing these commentary posts from here after season 2 is out! Just fyi, I might mention s2 stuff in these where it wasn’t mentioned in the posts for eps 1-3)

Omg not the captain singing the drinking song Nina sang to Inej in the hold of the ship on the way to Fjerda

I love how they just toss in background book details in new places to color in the world! You can tell everyone working on constructing this show was such a massive fan of the books and it warms my heart

As always, I’m just enamored by the linguistics and writing systems the show has designed and fleshed out for all the languages!! They make the world feel so lived-in!

Poor Mal. He really feels so powerless and helpless; even to people who are super devoted, sheer faith and longing can’t keep people going forever.

Boy is living on crumbs atm

Mean Girls (2004) voice: AND NONE FOR MAL ORETSEV BYE

These two are so pure i can’t get over it.

Thank you for giving Mal close relationships (even if they eat it soon) other than Alina!

NOT GENYA CALLING HER SUNSHINE-!!!

😭 😭 😭

YEAH ITS CUS HE WANTS TO FEEL OWNERSHIP OVER YOU ALINA

Yep yep giving her crumbs of vulnerability to draw her in.

Top tier manipulator shit.

Jesper’s hair and expression here I’m fucking laughing so hard

He looks like he just woke up from a week-long bender omfg.

Jesper, honey, I’m begging you, drink some water along with whatever alcoholic beverage is in that glass

LOVE LOVE LOVE how they find ways to weave the Crows’ plotlines into the S&B book plot.

Using the Winter Fete party as distraction was probably drawn from them using Hringkälla for the Ice Court job. But I suppose in the show it’s gonna be the other way around now which is funny. They’re probably gonna be like “Well, remember how we snuck into the Little Palace in Ravka because of their big celebration? Let’s do that with this job too!”

Very Beethoven/Bootstrap Paradox meta shit here and it makes me laugh

Kaz Brekker has never taken a day off in his entire life and it shows

LOOK HOW EXCITED THEY ARE

Even Inej is trying not to burst out grinning

Same you guys

I always get hyped as fuck for a heist!

You’ve heard of Chekov’s gun, but we’ve finally found Chekov’s bullet

The fucking barmaid’s face

I can’t

“Who is this strange Zemeni dude and why did he dump a goat in my arms and start speaking softly and mournfully to it in Kerch???”

Not him blowing Milo a kiss

I LOVE JESPER FAHEY AND HIS DRAMATIC BISEXUAL ASS

LYING THROUGH HIS GD TEETH AGAIN

Spinning his fake little sob stories

Manipulator 👏 Shit 👏

I do appreciate this way of trying to make exposition about the Black Heretic story more active

And making the scene serve several purposes at once (Kirigan trying to draw Alina in with his ~relatable outcast~ stuff, as well as giving the viewers the backstory)

Again, I’m just glad these three got to be on-screen. It gives Mal other people around him that matter. (Which does then help fuel/motivate his devotion to Alina as we go forward.)

That was really also one of the things that bugged me about book!Mal (Although, to be fair, it might be less of a writing issue than a personal one) but it sticks in my craw when characters are single-person focused. (Unless that’s, like, part of their character shit to figure out, them feeling lonely or co-dependent, etc.)

Like I do understand it’s kind of been “Mal and Alina against the world” since they were young. But they haven’t always been together since they joined the military. Having relationships that span back for a long, long time can be powerful, don’t get me wrong. But length of a relationship isn’t the only measure of its importance.

I think part of it was that we only got Alina’s POV and so Mal in some parts of the series felt very one-note, unmotivated, unbelievable, etc. Because all we got was what he managed to say to Alina when he was actually present and interacting with Alina (which didn’t happen for a large part of books 1 and 3.)

The lesbian skepticism on Nadia’s face-!!!

I will never, in my life, get over Freddy’s acting as Kaz acting as a stuffy fancy ~artíst~

CLEVER CLEVER CLEVER CLEVER

I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM

Ok so remember when this was the first sneak-peek scene they released of the Crows and we got to see them in action together for the first time??

It reminded me of my thoughts about Freddy’s voice as Kaz.

At first I was like “oh, hmm, he’s got kind of a higher, smooth voice as opposed to the way Kaz’s voice is described in the books” which is that rough gravely “rock-salt rasp.”

But as an iteration of Kaz (pluralism is my friend, you guys) Freddy’s voice for him is something I actually super love?

Like it’s a different sort of menacing. It can feel icy, if that makes sense. Like the higher register lends itself to his voice sounding cold, and the smoothness comes across as that kind of menacing sort of calmness. I dunno I just dig it.

I know we talk a lot about Inej’s knives (for good reason)

But dear saints I love Inej being invisible soundless sneaky.

I know she’d dislike me saying it, but honestly, she’s goddess material. This woman deserves to be lauded and honored at every opportunity.

What’s that meme again? “My idea of help from above is a sniper on the roof?”

Also, him waiting for the clock to chime to disguise the gunshot-!!!

Clawing my face off because I love my clever clever little thieves so much

[“Oh, and Inej,” he said as he led her out of the salon, “don’t ever sneak up on me again.”

The truth was she’d tried to sneak up on Kaz plenty of time since then. She’d never managed it. It was as if once Kaz had seen her, he’d understood how to keep seeing her.”]

Ok so we all agree that Kaz 100% did the same thing as with the magician he saw as a kid, right? Where he was obsessed with figuring out how the trick worked and unraveling it so he could learn to see what was actually happening?

Like [“Some people see a magic trick and say, “Impossible!” [...] And then there are the ones who stay awake, running through the trick again and again, looking for that skip in perception, the crack in the illusion that will explain how their eyes got duped; they’re the kind who won’t rest until they’ve mastered that little bit of mystery for themselves. I’m that kind.”]

INEJ WAS A PUZZLE HE THOUGHT ABOUT OVER AND OVER UNTIL HE FIGURED IT OUT

Oh, yknow, just reviewing stolen high-security floorplans in a public bar. As one does.

Lmao so basically my entire family hunts (northern woodlands, man) and I’m relatively sure my grandma has something that looks pretty much exactly like this

every friend group has someone like this in it

(in my experience said friend is usually a transmasc gremlin type)

fucking Mal just Very Seriously doing his Very Serious tracking while these two chucklefucks discuss selling literal shit in the background

knowing our beloved nina, the amount of sheer willpower she’s dredging up to refuse food is seriously impressive

she aint wrong, matty boy

ok so this is actually super interesting?? Because it speaks to Matthias having subtle curiosities/doubts about grisha and not fully understanding why someone would become grisha since he believes (read: was told) they weren’t just born that way.

In the books we never got to see Matthias speak to Nina alone until the shipwreck, there was always either other drüskelle and/or the other grisha captives on the ship (I mean there are other captives tied up here but they aren’t all shoved into a cage together so Nina and Matthias can have their own conversation)

I really like this little peek into Matthias trying to make sense of the indoctrination he was fed

yeah exactly, he’s trying to assuage his doubts about how “human” feeling Nina is because it’s gnawing at the indoctrination of dehumanization he’s been taught

Also, i love the camera work in this scene -- the lights are all hazy with lots of lens-flares and the shots are so so tight and close!

We’re putting two characters whose circumstances of birth and country and beliefs are so diametrically opposed together. But here they’re having a brief moment of connection where they each have a glimpse of each other’s humanity (in between all the vitriol.)

By cutting in close and having the rest of the “world” feel “out of focus” or “out of shot” it’s allowing this moment to feel like they can be two people for a brief moment rather than grisha and drüskelle. I adore it.

Yeah, see and then when they start talking politics about the Darkling, more of the shots have the camera pulling back a bit, because the “world” outside the two of them is shoving distance back between them

(Obv this is not an exact one-to-one this mapping of shots, but the scene in general does that and its really cool)

And then it pushes back in and gets more hazy again when Matthias has a moment of decency and offers Nina the bread without strings attached

mwuah! chef kiss!

ofc then it falls apart because these two are the most stubborn (affectionate, exasperated) people on the entire planet who can’t EXIST without taking petty jibes at each other

Just taking a moment to appreciate Calahan Skogman because he plays Matthias so incredibly well

I’m hoping so damn hard we get to see the Ice Court job adapted so we can see Matthias get let out of detention so he can go run and play with the other kids at recess

These are the faces of two exhausted parents at the end of a frustrating day with their excitable son and I’m living for it

LISTEN YOU TWO

AT LEAST JESPER IS COMING UP WITH IDEAS, STOP GLARING

Ok but this troupe leader, Marko, actually comes off as such a wholesome guy? I lowkey love his face??

Look how tear-stained and puff from crying it is?! This poor guy finally got to perform for royalty and thought his lifelong dreams had just been crushed and was sobbing into a mug of beer!

Inej entrusting Kaz with her knives DOES something to me, you guys

There is a fucking novel of unspoken words in these expressions I’m gonna gnaw my couch cushions in to piecessss-!

He’s so cute you guys I hope he still has a long and fruitful career even after all the fuckery that goes down at the Winter Fete

This whole scene has me gazing in adoration like a doting parent

Me to the person next to me, pointing, with a camcorder in my hand: Those are my kids!!! God, they’re so talented, I’m so proud of them!!

The fact that they made up entirely new playing card suits for this world-!!!

Honestly so much of what makes this world come to life in the show is thanks to how much AMAZING work the props and set people did???

They obviously loved and cared about the grishaverse so much, you can see in the sets and the costumes and the props how much work was put into making this world come to life and feel like a world that really exists with all its little bits and bobs and details!

That kind of worldbuilding minutia stuff just makes my brain go brrrrrr

Also I haven’t mentioned anything about the soundtrack yet but hot damn they’ve done so much to make it atmospheric but also do the A+ soundtrack thing of weaving musical themes for characters/groups

Ok tho Kaz 10000% could have gotten in as a performer too. Man’s got mad slight-of-hand skills he could definitely go in as a stage magician

It’s time for 🎶✨~Alina’s Emotional Mushroom Trip~ 🎶✨

Of course she was!

I feel like its super obvious that two orphan kids who’ve been through trauma and made a close connection would crave the stability of the life they have with a beloved friend, especially over an unknown where they would be alone and in a new place again having to start over???

I mean, she says she was thinking of Mal and not herself, but it’s both. Because him being alone would mean she would also be alone.

Alina was a scared little kid who had lost everything and was doing what she thought would keep everything she knew from being ripped away again.

I feel like in the books the dynamic of Darklina in the first book, it was obvious/deliberate that Alina felt very isolated at the Little Palace and so was kind of always steered back to the Darkling for scraps of affirmations or reassurances, plus the draw of their powers compounding this manipulation net the Darkling pulled her in by.

The dynamic feels different in the show, for a few reasons. I think Alina being aged up contributes to that. Also, we don’t get Alina’s interiority and descriptions of how her/the Darkling’s powers feel and pull her.

(Also Jessie and Ben have Very Good on-screen chemistry. And Ben Barnes is, well, Ben Barnes so the attraction-angle of the pull toward him is very believable.)

I mean, while Alina is aged up, she’s still a young woman. Her whole life she has overwhelmingly felt less than, invisible, and nothing special. And someone powerful is now telling her she’s unique and powerful and he’s the only one who understands her.

While Alina is still obviously manipulated heavily in the show, it feels less extreme? I don’t know how to word it?

Other contributing factors I think are her actually making closer friends at the Little Palace and that in the show we don’t see that extended period of time of her struggling and struggling and feeling like shit and powerless and “Other”-ed again. Also because we are shown that Mal DOES super care about her, rather than only getting her speculating and worrying.

And not only on Alina’s end is it different but I feel like the show we get shown more of Kirigan feeling helpless (something which is both authentic and strategic.)

Like I think its definitely real that he is struggling with these feelings of helplessness and futility in moving towards his goals.

But he is very deliberate in the ways he goes about showing it to Alina to make her feel like he’s letting his guard down with her and to garner sympathy with. As Baghra says towards the end of the season, giving Alina “a glimpse of the wounded boy.”

And it’s a huge credit to Ben Barnes that I feel that simultaneous nature.

Like in the moment, you do believe him in his pain and his loneliness. Because that is real.

But then you step back and realize he’s only showing it and showing it in such a way to weaponize it to cultivate those feelings of sympathy in Alina and keep her from seeing him as dangerous to her.

Ben Barnes’s performance really sells the Darkling so well. Because these things are all true: he has seen people die and is lonely and feels like he has to claw his way toward any change he can achieve.

But he is also playing bits of that up in very strategic ways in Alina’s presence to manipulate her.

(I always feel like I’m not gonna have more to say about the Darkling and then I end up writing a novel about it??)

”B-b-but-

Wait, was I the only one who believed we were actually giving them a fair trial?!?”

My parents’ walks to school, according to them.

Listen, I just love them

I LOVE THEM PUTTING TIME AND THOUGHT INTO SPRINKLING IN WORLDBUILDING

END ME

Listen all I can think about when I watch this scene is how this actor probably spent 9 hours in hair and makeup and wardrobe just to stand there, grab a stack of letters, shake his head, and walk away because he was a non-speaking extra and if he said “No” out loud they would have had to pay him the under-5-lines rate

Get that shit outta here, Baghra, we celebrate interdependence in this household!!

Also, the entirety of season 2’s themes would also like a word with you 👀👀

Ok not to sound like my northern midwestern mother but

CHILD DO NOT GO OUT IN THE COLD! AND SNOW! AT NIGHT! WITHOUT A FUCKING HAT ON?

You’re gonna get frostbite, Mal!!

It is AT LEAST below 10°F with how crunchy that snow sounds!!

Honestly, good for Alina. proud of her

This is funny to me because I know Jessie had a habit of just napping constantly in random places on set

Just BFF things: having matching palm scars

ARCHIEEEEE

Sometimes I feel for Archie because it can’t be easy playing Mal who, as characters in the grishaverse go, isn’t exactly the biggest fan favorite

And yet he’s out here giving us performances of this caliber

I see you and I love you Mr. Renaux

And that’s the end of episode 4!

[Episode 01 post] [Rewatch Commentary Links Masterpost]

#shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #grishaverse #the darkling #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #yes im back on my bullshit #i have so many thoughts and want to talk about s2 but wanted to finish these s1 eps first

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

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Icarus( did I spell that right? ) my beloved does you have any yandere c! Technoblade and philza with a shy reader stories? 👀

Feel free to take as long as you like I'm in no rush hopefully you don't mind me requesting alot if it's a problem then I will stop requesting as much as I do

Agian I love your writing have a lovely day or evening my beloved(platonic!!)

Darling Mooshroom, I adore you so much (platonically). You have my full permission to fill my inbox with any and all requests that come to mind. I love the ideas you give me and you're the only one who has requested more than once (other than anons but I can't tell with them.)

Also. Philza Philza Philza I FINALLY GET TO WRITE FOR THIS MANS WOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry ignore me. Unfortunately, this story will be shorter than my normal ones because I used up the majority of my brainpower on other stories and I feel bad for keeping you waiting <3 (plat)

(Techno is not part of sleepy bois in this story. Instead, Techno and Philza are ancient gods and set more in like Ancient Egyptian times?? Really low key Yandere in this story)

TW: Yandere, mentions of a creep, getting robbed

Mortal of Gold (Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Was it your appearance? Or your shy personality? Perhaps it was the various amounts of golden chains and jewels sprinkled strategically all over your person...

Crows and Piglins were naturally attracted to gold, so that's how Techno justified himself, but Philza wasn't stupid, he's been through this many times before. He knew what being in love was.

But they had never felt so... Strongly towards a mortal before.

The God of Blood and War continued trying to deny his feelings for you, but he always found himself watching you shuffle around the Ancient DreamSMP, curled in on yourself as you walked to and from shrines for the gods that you had made.

Philza, the God of Survival and Crows, leaned over a bowl of ink and water and stared into the swirling designs, watching as it shifted into a picture. He saw a lovely figure kneeling at the base of a statue, placing a bowl of fresh bread and cakes, before lighting some incense and standing up, their head dipped in silent prayer.

The winged god chuckled softly and adjusted his large hat before cupping his hands together in a bowl shape. Slowly, with very minor concentration, a golden chain appeared with an emerald heart shape dangling off of it. With a small but sharp whistle, a black crow swooped in through the window and perched itself on his arm, "Yes Dadza?" It chirped telepathically, tilting its head curiously.

"Hello, my child. I would like you to place this on the young mortal's doorstep. I trust you will be able to find it?" He smiled softly and held out the piece of jewellery to the feathered creature who picked it up in its beak.

"Sure, Dadza!" The bird gave a squawk before hopping over to the bowl of ink and water to study the appearance of the mortal. "Oh! It's (Y/n) again! Didn't Technoblade recently cause a man to meet his end because he was rude to them?"

The man sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand, "Yes, Techno is brash like that... I should speak to him about that after... Now, be on your way. I would like them to receive the gift before they start putting their faith in other gods." With another telepathic chirp, the bird quickly took flight and headed out the window. Once his beloved crow, Chat, was gone, he leaned over the bowl again.

The mortal was now praying to Technoblade's shrine, after giving an offering of beer and herbs with the incense now re-lit. Phil decided to disperse the image with a wave of his hand, beginning to make his way to his old friend, the God of War and Blood.

With a flurry of black feathers, Philza landed on the balcony Techno had designed specifically for him and closed his wings neatly behind him, "Techno?" He called, walking through the red curtains into the room of the God. When his emerald-coloured eyes landed on the tall man, he discovered that he was hunched over a large bronze dish like he had been moments ago.

"Yeah, I'm here." The pink-haired male sighed, adjusting his glasses before pushing his long hair out of his face as he looked up from the bowl. "What do you need, Phil?"

"I'm here to discuss (Y/n). That mortal we are both smitten with?" He watched as the god's cheeks visibly turned pink despite his tough demeanour, causing Philza to chuckle into his hand, "Relax. It's obvious. And I know how you had one of your followers beheaded that poor fisherman."

"Millionaires. Not followers." Techno retorted with a scoff as he stepped away from the bowl filled with likely water and ink. "In my defence he deserved it. He should've known better and held his tongue when being in the presents of one of my worshipers."

Phil wasn't able to hold back his sigh, "Millionaires? Good grief Techno, you're just making up words at this point. Besides, that's not the main reason I flew out here," The Survival God's eyes suddenly darkened, catching Techno off guard but nonetheless made him happy, "I heard... That (Y/n) has been getting threats from the village of L'Manberg."

Techno frowned at the thought of anything happening to their favourite mortal. The images that appeared in his mind caused the voices in his head to roar in anger, demanding for human blood to be spilt across his shrines.

"Yeah. I suggest we put a stop to it. But, I do want to meet our little mortal..." Philza smirked a bit, raising his hand in an attempt to stop Techno from seeing how violent his thoughts were becoming towards the humans.

You couldn't help but smile as you saw the new jewellery that had been placed at your doorstep, scooping it up into your hands and taking a moment to put the necklace and solid gold armband on. You were quite aware that the vast amounts of jewellery covering your body made you a target for thieves, but you trusted in your gods to keep you safe.

On your eighteenth birthday, your village had dressed you up and offered you to the gods in exchange for safety and a good harvest, chaining you in the middle of the dessert on a stone platform. You would have perished from starvation had a black crow not have carried a basket filled with the ripest and fresh fruits you had ever had. That's when you knew that Philza was watching over you.

Technoblade had started watching over you not long after that. On a trip into the village for yeast to make bread to offer Philza, a creep had cornered you in an alleyway. He began making disgusting remarks towards you, but a man with glowing gold eyes and red sclera came up and pummeled him into the ground before completely vanishing. It had been a high priest of Technoblade's Syndicate temple who told you that it was the God of Blood and War who saved you.

"Look," Techno whispered under his breath as he saw you standing in your doorway with a soft smile. Philza peaked around the corner as well, watching you attach the jewellery to your (s/t) skin with a smile of his own, "I take it the necklace is from you?" The tusked male asked as he pulled the hood on his cheap commoner clothing up to cover his noticeable pink hair.

Phil did the same, trying to hide his inhumane blue eyes from view, while also trying to shoo away Chat who was relentlessly teasing the two of them, "Sh! Chat, it's not like- No. Shut. WHat?! I'm not being a creep!" He hissed to the blackbird, trying to bat it away with his free hand, while Techno was snickering to himself, "Wait, no! This is my bread, (Y/n) made it for me! Get your own!"

After watching his old friend get bullied by Chat for a few minutes, he turned back to watch you walk back out of your home, holding the cup of beer you had placed at his shrine earlier today. Your offerings were always his favourite... He would burn this entire village down if they tried to chain you into the desert again... Actually.. That was a good idea...

The two gods silently followed behind you, watching you nervously try your best to avoid social conversation, but they noticed how the other mortals seemed to look down upon you for wearing so much golden jewellery.

"H-he-hello..." You murmured out meekly as you approached the man selling fruits and different herbs. Leaning forward, you carefully inspected the cranberries and cinnamon specifically, knowing that they were Philza's and Technoblade's favourite offerings.

You heard footsteps walking behind you, but because the market was busier than normal today, you decided to brush it off. Until you felt someone gently grab the golden jewellery dangling from your ears, giving it a light pull, "Solid gold, ey? Aren't you a poor little peasant?" A voice male voice cooed softly in your ear, causing you to spin around quickly, backing up until you hit the table that all the fruit and herbs were placed on.

Dream. The high priest of DreamXD's temple. The God of Control and Manipulation. This man truly believed he was the walking incarnate of the god himself, and even named himself after the god! Truly a maniac...

"Dream..." You murmured softly, your body trembling and flinching away from his touch, "I-I'm not giving them to you for you to offer up to your twisted god... I worship Technoblade and Philza... No one else."

The masked man growled in annoyance before he snapped his fingers and two men in masks grabbed onto your shoulders before beginning to tear the golden jewellery off of your body. Snapping the golden chains off from around your neck and wrists, pulling the earrings out of your ears and the golden bands from around your biceps. The entire time you yelped and begged for them to leave the gifts you had received from your gods alone, everyone else around you putting their heads down and averting their eyes, pretending not to see you.

A flurry of black feathers clouded your vision and you heard three hard thuds before a loud barking voice echoed through your ears.

"How DARE you!"

"Techno! Help me burn this damned village to the ground!"

#philza x reader #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #yandere philza x reader #yandere technoblade x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt #dream smp x reader #technoblade dream smp #philza dream smp #techno dream smp #mcyt au #dsmp

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hanazou · 3 years

Text

matching onesies with him.

Books : Dazai | Chuuya | Oda

Shelf : Mixed

Genre : Fluff, domestic

Note : I did this of my own accord because I am, in fact, a softie

Dazai Osamu

This clingy crackhead.

Dazai will be the first to come up with the idea. It's actually a random one and he asked it so spontaneously, he doesn't expect you to actually say yes.

"Sure, why not?" You agreed.

He's both surprised and elated, and he didn't hide this reaction at all.

"Oh, darling!" He wrapped a hug around your neck. "You always revive my heart with your love!"

You both will be enthusiastic about picking the onesies and agree to surf the net instead of looking from shop to shop since Dazai is under the supervision of a certain angry Kunikida

It almost feels like babysitting. Not that you hate it right? Should you get an identical pair with different sizes? Or complementary ones?

Dazai will call the customer service to ask if they have black crow onesies since crows represent death in some cultures. The response is obviously no and it's obvious that the customer service was confused.

"That's a shame," Dazai whined disappointedly, shoulders dropping. "Wouldn't it be both cute and poetic if we had a double suicide while wearing matching crow onesie? Two achievements in one!"

At that point you wouldn't even be surprised anymore. You will just take the phone away from him to apologise and thank the customer service. You have to convince Dazai that you won't find a onesie of that kind

"Wait, don't tell me," You stared at him. "The reason you want to get onesies is just to wear a matching crow pair?"

"Is it?" He grinned mischievously. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong, but I just want to match with you."

Other ADA members will wonder what you and Dazai were doing, Kunikida the most. He isn't exactly curious, more like suspicious. What's that good-for-nothing Dazai up to now?

Eventually you find a pair of identical ones. Kind of rare designs too! Guess what?

Crabs! In red! The little eyes on the hood!

It will take less than a week for the onesies to arrive in a small box. When it does Dazai will pull out a cutter so energetically Atsushi will think he's going to pull a suicide attempt with it

"AAH! Dazai-san! No!"

Nothing will happen aside from Dazai stabbing the box (while making sure he doesn't cut the onesies inside. he's good with blades, ex Port Mafia and all)

The crab pincers for your hands are soft like mittens and so smooth???? Imagine sweaterpaws but with crab pincer mittens (!!)

It will take everything in you to stop Dazai from wearing it that instant since a client Fukuzawa talked about will be coming. You will need Atsushi's help to take it off him but let's not talk about it

Both of Dazai's legs are already in the onesie too..

It seems like Kyouka wants one. Yosano and Naomi will tell Atsushi to buy the girl one and match with her

When Dazai and you go home together, he will be so excited to wear the onesies immediately. Dazai will be light on his feet.

And when you finally put yours on? Pictures. Dazai will take lots of pictures of you. You're a piece of art and he wants pictures so he can recall the image anytime

"Oh, dearest~ How is it possible for you to be so cute?" He began his dramatic poses, a hand over his head while spinning like a ballet dancer.

You both will take a lot of couple pictures.

"Love, you are so adorable I want to eat you!"

"Is it me who's cute or the crab?" You teased back.

When Dazai makes a troubled expression to answer your question, you will have to pinch him 💢

If you can cook crab soup, wouldn't it be funny to make and eat one with Dazai while wearing crab onesies? He will be so clingy when you do it, like an old school married couple; when you cook, he'll be bugging you while hugging from behind. It feels cozy, don't blame him

You have to be keen with your eyes so you won't miss Dazai secretly pouring ajinomoto to the soup. Get him a healthier diet, I'm begging you.

"Look, the crab is red like us." He pointed at the soup. "And like your face when I do this." He took advantage of you turning your head to peck your cheek.

He will also pinch your nose with his pincer mitten. "Boop!" It's a challenge. Boop his nose back.

You think he's already as clingy as he can be, huh? Wrong. You are absolutely wrong. If he previously sticks around you like a magnet, this time he's glued to you.

Even in the shared living space, he won't let you go. Is it the softness of the onesie under his touch, the warmth, or your cuteness? Well, it's all of them. What then?

Snuggles.

You both cuddle together in the futon until falling asleep together. You feel twice as warm.

He's the big spoon, let him feel the smoothness of the onesie while feeling your heat. And for once, the double suicide joke stopped for the rest of day. That's how much this impacts him, and you're proud of him.

Nakahara Chuuya

Matching with Chuuhuahua in a onesie? You lucky fella.

You have to be the one initiating it with Chuuya. Baby boy will be like "Eeh?" at first. He's not against it at all but more like, confused. The request is out of the blue

"Come on, why not?" You tilt your head. "It will feel so soft to cuddle with?"

That's it, that's the spell for him to agree

Mans is a Port Mafia executive, you can't go out from shop to shop in a mall to get your onesie with his schedule, so you have to settle with online shopping with this guy too

Only when he has time to spare from beating up people

You will sit together on a couch at the headquarters once Chuuya and you don't have missions. It's a good chance to relax and unwind together too

Chuuya knows best where to find clothes, including onesies. There are so many options! Dinosaurs, frogs, bears, Sanrio characters, Doraemon, Pikachu, Line characters, pandas, unicorns, penguins!! (I should stop fantasizing Chuuya in each of them)

Chuuya will act cool and chill about it at first, but he actually got invested in choosing and thankfully he isn't a crackhead unlike a certain someone

He has a good fashion sense I don't accept criticism, and this side of him will jump out while both of you scroll the catalogue. He nails both street wear and mafia outfits daily, so you can bet he'd pick the best onesies for you both

"This one doesn't suit you," He moved to the next option. "These are the only colours available? Pass.", "What's with the unnecessarily long tail?", "Oh maybe this? Wait, I don't like the stripes."

Of course, he will listen to your opinion too but since you feel he's better at this, you just either nod or shake your head with him

You have to be careful with your words when picking the size (this is much more valid if you're taller) or he'll go "I'm not that short!"

Kouyou and Mori (+ Elise) will catch you both on the couch together while browsing, comfy and all, and Kouyou asked what you two were doing. Chuuya's face will be as red as wine.

When you want to explain, his gloved hand will cover your mouth and he frantically shakes his head, screaming "Don't!" silently.

But alas, while you want to tell him there's nothing to be embarrassed of, Kouyou will take the phone from your hand with a curious grin and a "What's this~?"

Chuuya will just accept fate at that point, growling to himself and all

Kouyou and Mori won't expect to see a catalogue of onesies, apparently. The "Huh," on their faces are hilarious, and Mori will be instantly inspired to get a full set for his Elise-chan, much to her distaste.

While Mori and Elise are going at it, Kouyou will actually share her opinions. Chuuya will crawl out from his burrow of embarrassment and listen to her with you.

"Rather than identical ones, these would be much better. They have variety." Kouyou said. And you both will agree. You both have been eyeing a specific pair anyway

You both will decide to get complementary ones! Chuuya's will be a brown teddy and yours a white bunny! (Try googling Line's Brown and Cony, they're cute you won't regret it) Kouyou will totally agree with the decision.

When the package arrives, both of you will open it together. Chuuya's eyes for clothes are never wrong, the quality is immaculate. So warm and smooth, not a seam out of place.

Imagine the blush on Chuuya's face when you put on the white bunny onesie. The bunny ears on the hood! The fluffiness! His flustered face!

He will be slightly hesitant to put his own on, but when he does, you swear you can die from the cuteness. Want to see more cuteness? Tease him about it, and maybe he'll tickle you down until you're too breathless to tease him.

Chuuya doesn't want to say it explicitly but it does feel really comfortable, it's suitable for winters too.

As usual, Chuuya will be the big spoon. You will melt into his warmth and the smoothness of his onesie, and you can tell he's enjoying it too, from the way he'll drag his hand all over you to feel the smooth fabric

"It's a good thing we listened to ane-san's suggestion, hm?" You asked. "I didn't exactly like the matching penguin pairs."

"Yeah, this isn't bad at all." Chuuya admitted, snuggling his chin into the crook of your neck. "You're so warm."

Oda Sakunosuke

First off I'm Odasaku's lover before I'm anything else.

When the weather gets cold, it's your idea to get onesies for the kids. They could use some cute onesies to sleep in.

Unlike Dazai and Chuuya, Odasaku will have time to spare to go shopping with you. Being the handyman of Port Mafia has its good sides, after all.

The atmosphere is identical to a date! You both meet up at evening after work, have a simple dinner first, then start the shopping. Shopping for the kids' onesies with him makes you feel like a parent doesn't it?

Odasaku and you will make sure not to pick flimsy, thin, or rough ones. Only the best for the kids. Both of you put your keen eyes to use, examining every considered piece

Odasaku and you will definitely discuss whether to get five identical or different ones. After considering that the kids have different personalities, choosing different pieces will sound more ideal. You both will grant them the liberty of picking themselves.

"We just have to make sure they don't fight over it." Odasaku said.

Lion, dinosaur, piglet, panda, and penguin. That's what you both will choose!

Odasaku is a man who doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeves, so you relied on his eyes when it comes to him. You will see love and sincerity. He picks each piece with careful consideration.

The store clerk will throw an unexpected (yet clichéd shoujo) question at you both. "You picked such good choices. We have sets for adults too, why not match with your children?"

Odasaku and you will widen your eyes. First of all, parents? And match? Both of you stare at each other in confusion. Should you get two get a pair for yourselves?

"Why not?" Odasaku eventually said.

Odasaku's will be a brown dog and yours a white cat (remember that one official art of Odasaku with puppy ears? <3)

Odasaku and you will immediately visit the kids and give them their onesies. Their excitement in picking one for their own made you smile, and you can see the joy in Odasaku's eyes when the kids thanked him and you. He doesn't smile, but you don't need him to just to know he's glad his children love your pick. The way he pats their heads already speaks volumes of love.

Thankfully no kid wrestled to get what they want. You were especially concerned Kousuke will compete with someone

Odasaku will bring a secondhand polaroid he once bought at Yokohama's flea market to take pictures of the kids. You will herd the children to gather for the picture while Odasaku looked for the right angle in the other side of the room.

"Why don't you stay there for the picture too?" Odasaku asked you, half of his face behind the camera.

You kneel behind the kids and put your hands on Sakura and Yuu's shoulders, the ones who stood on the far left and right. That much is enough to warm Odasaku's heart, but when you too, smile for the camera, he freezes for a while to take the sight with his eyes

The picture comes out nicely. You will end up convincing Odasaku to take more but with him in it, together, all seven of you. You would need the curry diner owner's help to take the picture

"Sakunosuke, smile, will you?" You held his shoulder while you both kneeled behind the kids for the picture. He would be a little stunned

He smiles, but it was faint. Nevertheless, you recognise the content in his eyes in the photo, and it's enough.

When it's just the two of you in the living quarters, you will have to remind Odasaku that he too, bought a onesie. He will gladly put it on him since you look so eager, he's curious how it feels too

Your heart stops when he put on the hood with the puppy ears. You will have to fight back the urge to attack him with cuddles right there and then when his confused and innocent face matches the onesie so much!

"You're adorable," You smiled half teasingly, taking in the look of confused Odasaku who looked down at his onesie. The weight of the material felt right, it's like a cozy blanket.

"Try to put yours on," He says. When you did, his heart also missed a beat. The kitten ears on your head! The pure snowy white on you!

Odasaku is a bear hugger and when he hugs you, his embrace will feel tighter than usual. It's no surprise, he likes you and cats, and the way you interacted with the kids that day played tricks on his heart. You hug him back and ruffle his head while he mumbles his thank-you's at you

That night's sleep will be filled with nothing but cuddles of love and adoration. Yes, Odasaku is the big spoon, but you will also hold his arms tighter around you as you both drift into the night, chatting about life.

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choco-exe · 3 years

Text

new series ayo? 👀 we'll see how long my motivation lasts haha :'D not sure if i want this to be romantic or not, too.. so many possibilities this story can take

Prologue - The Journey Ends.. or Starts?

trigger warnings: mentions of blood, corpses, and generally anything that has to do with a battle

Sword clattering soundlessly to the ground, you stood there in silence, not noticing the cold enveloping you. Chills wracked your body — not from the icy wind pelting at your figure, but from the view you had — as you held your hand to you mouth at the sight you beheld—

Dozens of bodies littered the terrain, looking as though the massacre never stopped going— and yet it did. The contrast from the stark white snow to the maroon red blood had almost made you go sick, and yet you kept on looking.

In the center of the mass murder, a.. living being, so to speak, was standing with their back faced to you, seemingly lost in thought. You couldn't tell what species they were; all you knew was that they were a hybrid of some sorts, judging by the pointed ears, they were tall, probably over six feet, and they had long, pink hair, braided neatly, with loose strands accentuating their red cape adorning their shoulders.

A bit sick to your stomach from all the gore you came upon, you decided to leave the area. Sparing one more glance at the corpses littered across the landscape, you hastily picked up your sword and spun around, letting out a loose breath as you did so— a fatal mistake. Taking all of one step, you hear the sound of boots thudding across bones and melted snow, and you only had time to spin around and lift your sword when you were slammed head-first in the ground with a blade to your throat, your weapon thrown out of your grip and into the snow beside you. Letting out a silent grunt, you grimace at the pain of the fall— only to feel hot breath on your upper lip.

"Give me one reason I should let you walk away." Your eyes dart up from the monotonous voice, and your breath hitched. No more than a few inches away from your face, your focus was on the male's gorgeous ruby eyes. They lured you inside them, beckoning you deeper and deeper into an abyss of darkness, one you wished would always last, as a fresh wave of chills scoured your body—

"Death it is." The voice snapped you back to reality, and as you vaguely saw the glint of a blade ready to strike down, you realized what was about to happen.

"Wait, wait!" You yelped in a panicked frenzy, struggling to move, although you were unsuccessful; the stranger had you pinned down in a way so you couldn't escape. "I need to find Phil— Philza Minecraft! He— I—"

As your mind scrambled to string words into a sentence, you missed the way the male's orbs darkened. He pressed the flat part of his sword onto your throat, the edge drawing blood from under your chin.

"What do you need of this 'Philza Minecraft?'"

You blinked at the question, the unfamiliar feeling of warm blood dripping down your neck making you hesitate. "I came to re.. return the favor I owe him." You managed to get out.

The stranger didn't lighten the grip he had on his blade. "And what do you have to gain from it?"

"..nothing?" The question he asked you threw you off. "I just hate the thought of being indebt to someone I hardly know."

The silence that had picked up after you said your part seemed to make everything still— the wind stopped howling, the snow had halted its fall, and animate objects decided it would be a good time to stay still. You wondered if this was the end for you, as the male had been quiet for awhile, when he suddenly stood up. He spun on his heel and started walking through the field of corpses, not sparing even a glance your way as he said, "if you want to find him, then I suggest you keep up."

Your legs comprehended what he had said before your mind did; in the blink of an eye, you were no longer in your position on the floor— instead, you were struggling to keep up with the tall stranger. Droplets of blood splattered onto the already blood-soaked snow, but you barely acknowledged it. The only thing on your mind was finding Philza, and you sure as hell are going to endure almost anything to get your goal— even following a person who was about to take one of your canon lives moments ago.

"I don't think we had proper introductions." You said after awhile, trying to start up a conversation, as the silence was starting to feel suffocating. "I'm Y/N, what about you?"

He took a couple long strides, much to your dismay, before responding.

"You have not earned the right to know."

A frown etched upon your snow-covered face. "And what makes it so special to need requirements to know?"

The male tossed his braid over his shoulder. "A lot of people have placed bounties on my head, that's what."

As you opened your mouth to question what the hell he did to be wanted, he stopped abruptly in his tracks, causing you to crash right into his back.

"What's the big—" You started to say, rubbing your nose, before your words got caught in your throat.

For the first time, the hybrid turned his head to look at you, although it was barely more than a glance.

"This is who you wanted to see, correct?"

Standing in front of you was a blonde man, with wings that you were oh-so-familiar with tucked under a rather shabby-looking cloak, only letting the tips be visible. He was weathered with age, although he still had that youthful twinkle in his eyes that you saw the first time you met him, and he was staring right at you, surprise and suspicion etched in his features.

"Who did you bring back, Techno?" He asked, confused.

Confusion mixed into the shock that you were feeling, along with a pinch of satisfaction when you heard Philza call the hybrid by his actual name. Did he not remember you? Was this actually the Phil you knew? Questions circled in your head. Didn't he tell you he never forgets who he met, even if it were years from then?

"..you don't know them?" You knew you weren't the only one confused when you heard the stranger's — Techno's — voice. Your emotion quickly morphed into alertness when he slowly turned his whole body around.

"I thought you said you'd never forget anyone you meet, Philza Minecraft." You were careful to not call him by his nickname, fearing it would only upset him if he legitimately didn't remember you.

Phil tilted his head, as a crow would when confused. "I.. I have said that, yes." He confirmed. "But the only person I said that to was.." As he drifted off with his words, his skin drained of color.

"Phil?" Techno said, noting how he stopped talking, although he never took his eyes off you.

"You- you said it to me, Philza." You took a step forward. "Y/N. You said it to Y/N."

Techno narrowed his eyes at your movement, but before he could do anything, a trembling hand landed upon his shoulder. He turned to look at Phil's pale face with his eyebrow raised, only to be met with his friend looking.. scared. Confused.

"Y/N.." The winged man started. "You.. you died."

Your eyebrows rose high. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your final life. You sacrificed it. To save me."

#mcyt #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #techno mcyt #philza mcyt #technoblade mcyt #phil mcyt #technoblade #philza minecraft #philza #ph1lza #technoblade x reader #philza minecraft x reader #philza headcanon

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aries-writingblog · 3 years

Text

Detonation

Summary: As an FBI agent, YN deals with bad guys all day long. So does Bucky as an Avenger. When their worlds collide, it’s never pretty. Especially not when they are the targets.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4620

Warnings: language, violence, bombs and explosions, bomb threats, hostage situation

AN: This was another request from @cherry-season and if you can’t tell by reading this I’ve been watching criminal minds again so I hope you guys like this one. GIF is not my own credit to original creator.

YN leaned back in the desk chair, spinning it halfway back and forth. Boring a hole into the scattered papers of the police department. She was exhausted. Their team had been after this same guy for a week now. A real piece of work: planting bombs in DC banks. Leaving cryptic messages with them. Fortunately, their bomb squad made it in time to dismantle the charge before it blew. But they were no closer to catching the guy than before.

“Shitty coffee?” A deep, masculine voice approached her side. Placing a coffee cup in front of her. YN smiled, gratefully accepting the beverage. She glanced up to the provider, one of her teammates, Alex Knowles. “Look like you could use it.”

“That a way of telling me I look worse than the coffee?” YN teased, chugging the lukewarm drink down. So accustomed to cheap, watery coffee, she barely even gagged at the bitter taste as it went down. “No leads?”

Alex shook his head, pulling up a chair and plopping beside her. He sighed, gazing out over the bustling police station. Watching the beat cops go in and out of the doors, suspects and victims all being questioned or held in the same room. A Mecca of activity unfolding before their eyes. Progress. Just not the progress they needed.

“Kinda hoping Bryant would bring something back in- he went to question a couple witnesses that were around the bank at the time the guy dropped the bomb off.” He reported, sitting forward to shuffle through the papers on the desk. “What’s all this?”

“Those are previous reports…” YN explained, brushing stray hair back from her face. “I thought he could’ve had a previous record… he built these bombs with some kind of knowledge- whether it be academic or street smarts, I’m not sure yet. Besides, not doing anything else.”

Alex nodded, letting the paper slip through his fingers and back to the desktop. He watched his teammate reorganize the stacks- the glittering diamond on her finger catching his eye. A devilish grin cracked his lips, whistling appreciatively.

“Barnes finally asked that question, did he?” He asked, putting his cup down and gesturing for her hand. YN rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile as she complied. Alex studied the rock more closely, examining the quality. “Got good taste for somebody as old as he is.”

“Oh shut up.” YN laughed, yanking her hand back.

She and Bucky met on a case. Their FBI team had been invited into a local investigation of suspicious activity. Turns out, the Avengers were also looking into it. Well, a team of four Avengers anyways. Bucky Barnes being one of them. He was smooth, a sweet talker. Managed to wriggle his way into her phone, later he would swing a date. Two years later, Bucky was down on a knee in her bedroom. Asking one of those life altering questions.

That had been three weeks ago. They barely had time to see each other after that night. She was pulled back into work, he was pulled halfway across the globe on a mission. He did call every night, checking in. Asking about her day. Making outrageous, silly promises about the wedding and their new home, their future. Making her smile, distracting her from her day. At the same time, allowing himself to dissociate from the mission he was on as well.

“I’m happy for you.” Alex’s tone turned sober, serious. YN glanced over to him. He leaned his elbows on his knees, smiling broadly. “You both deserve someone like the other… you deserve each other. I mean it in the best, possible way.”

“Thank you, Alex.” YN replied, reflecting her sincere gratitude as best she could. Alex was always in her corner. No matter what- he trusted her. In their world, that meant everything and more.

“Hey, LN- Knowles!” Ricky Bryant came rushing into their area, flushed and out of breath. “Listen, I think we might’ve found the bomber’s identity: Casey Griffin. ”

“What?” YN leaned forward, staring up at him. Her eyebrows furrowed, a faint pin struck the back of her head. “Griffin… Casey Griffin- that sounds familiar. Why is that familiar?”

Ricky opened his mouth, ready to spill all the information he had gathered about the man. A woman interrupted their circle, a panicked look in her eyes.

“Agent LN- there’s a call on line six for you. He claims to be responsible for the bombings and he’s demanding to speak with you.” She interjected, nodding to the desk phone. YN glanced from Ricky to Alex.

“Get Robbie on the phone- tell her we need to trace this call immediately.” She instructed, rolling to the desk to pick up the phone. She waited a moment, allowing Ricky to call Robbie, the fourth member of their team. Their tech analyst. “Ready?”

“Yeah- go ahead.”

YN took a deep, calming breath. Her fingers tightened around the phone anxiously. Swallowing back her creeping nerves, she pulled the phone off the receiver.

“Agent LN, may I ask who’s calling?” She began slowly, giving Robbie a chance to snag the call’s location. There was heavy breathing on the other end, as if he had been running.

“You know who’s calling, YN. Don’t play coy- it isn’t a good look on you.”

Recognition struck her like lightning as she heard his voice. He had been one of the hostages in the first emergency scene. YN had taken down his statement herself. She ground her teeth together, anger flooding her system. She had been played.

“You’ve got me there, Casey.” She chuckled, her free hand wiping down the thigh of her tactical pants. “This is the first time you’ve called- why are you just now contacting us?”

The sound Griffin made was far from a laugh- the dark, slow noise was bone chilling. Nauseating. She could feel it deep into her clothes, settling like frost against her skin. She bit her cheek, staving off the urge to shiver through the discomfort.

“I’ve decided I want to give you front row tickets to the show, of course.” He crowed, voice leaping in octaves. “Corner of West and Fifth. You have half an hour, unless you want all these lovely people to end up blood splatters and burn marks on the floors.” YN winced, clenching her jaw. “Oh, and YN? Come in alone.”

The telltale click and beep ended the call, leaving YN to stare blankly at the desk before her. Clenching the phone in her grasp so tightly the plastic creaked. Knuckles lightening. She swallowed, something was clutching her throat. Restricting her lung capacity. Her shaking fingers pressed the phone into the receiver. Pushing her chair back, she stumbled to her feet.

“YN- “

“I just need a minute, okay?” She snapped, snagging her jacket from the chair across from the desk. YN shoved past the incoming traffic of people, fumbling her way outside.

The city was full of noise; Blaring car horns, shouting, a low murmur of pedestrian conversations. Sirens. The thrum of the city’s heartbeat under her feet. Taking a left into the alleyway, YN dug through her pockets, fingers brushing against the carton of cigarettes and lighter.

Hands trembling, she put a stick between her lips. Blowing smoke as soon as she lit it. Tilting her head back against the weathered brick of the station. A shaky exhale following the wavering grey smoke. She clenched her jaw, bowing her head.

She knew it was a trap- Casey was asking to meet alone. But he was holding hostages in a bank loaded down with explosives. And who knew what he wanted, why only her? Why alone? And why was that name familiar? None it made sense- facts blurring together. Shrouding him from her senses.

A sudden buzz against her abdomen sent her reeling back into consciousness. Her cigarette was gone- flicking the filter to the ground. Pushing it into the cement with her boot. Her fingers scuttled through her pocket, retrieving her phone.

Bucky’s contact photo- one of him fast asleep with fridge magnets on his arm. She smiled- somehow Bucky always knew right when she needed him. Like he had a sensor on her emotions, giving him timely reports. Updating him constantly.

“Hey, Buck.” She greeted, begging her voice to not crack. It sounded normal. Or at least enough that she hoped Bucky didn’t question it. Tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear, she lit another cigarette. Blowing the stress away from the speaker.

“Hey, sugar,” She could hear his smile through the phone. That excited one he always got when he first saw her. Wide, showing off his teeth. Stretching his face so much she wondered if it hurt. “I’m just callin’ to tell you I’m home. And I know you’re busy but, I wanted to hear your voice again.”

YN laughed, falling into the regular rhythm with him. Allowing herself to feel the stress melt from her bones. Bucky always had that affect on her. Something she couldn’t quite understand. Why the man was such an addictive drug.

“Well, you’re in luck- I’m on a break right now.” She wanted nothing more than to sit and talk with him, listen to his baritone drawl. Lulling her into a state of comfort and security. But she knew she couldn’t- she had limited time. She had to make a decision. And soon.

“Are you smoking again?” Bucky asked. YN smiled, biting down on her lip. She made a noncommittal noise, neither agreeing or disagreeing with his statement. He had been after her for their entire relationship to make her quit the habit. Trying to help her kick it. Nothing ever really helped. “YN…”

“I know… I’ve only had two. I just… I needed a break.” She admitted, bowing her head. She shifted her eyes to the alleyway opening, seeing Alex and Ricky approaching her. “I’ve got to get back. I’ll see you at home?”

“Yes, I’m making that soup you like for dinner. Don’t let it go cold.” He warned.

“I won’t. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She shoved her phone into her back pocket, meeting her partner’s halfway. Their faces drawn with concern and hesitancy.

“Gear me up.” She pushed between them, not looking back. She feared if she looked at them again, she would lose her nerve. Holding her shoulders back, chin tilted with her head held high. She had to keep the air of confidence around her. If she didn’t- they would never believe her. YN needed full backup for her plan. “I’m going in.”

~~~~~~

The building seemed to loom over her, taunting her as she stood before it. The large windows were gaping at her, a threat to her minuscule presence. YN swallowed back the terror she felt, pushing it down and locking it away. Out of reach.

“We’ll be talking with you through the comms unit the whole time.” Ricky explained, securing the equipment over her ear. He carefully tightened the straps on her vest, glancing to meet her eyes. His brows dipped. “You don’t have to do this you know? We can raid the building or get a sniper down here. This isn’t the only option.”

YN shook her head, clipping her holster over her belt, around her waist. She sighed, the exhale was shaky. Biting down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, she clipped extra ammunition to the side.

“It’s the one where everyone makes it out. Those hostages are the main priority right now.”

“Hey.” Ricky stopped her nervous movement, hands on both of her shoulders. Forcing her to look up at his face. “Don’t do that. Don’t make it seem like some small bust… this is serious. We’re worried about you. About this. It’s dangerous. Give a little of that focus to yourself.”

“Okay.” YN agreed. She inhaled again, this time a little more steady. Giving a final affirmative nod, she squared her shoulders and backed away. She turned, facing the group of DC police officers and FBI squads. “Alright, these comms go both ways. I’m negotiating for hostages first. If anything goes wrong, clear the site. We don’t know how many explosives he has in there.”

YN watched the groups follow her orders, setting up to accept hostages. Loading guns for a raid if needed. Both ambulance and fire department had been called in. The companies were also preemptively preparing for the worst. She began walking toward the bank, eyes forward. What felt like thousands of eyes followed her to the door, fire burning against her back.

As she approached, she could see a woman standing at the glass door. She had been crying- her face stained with tears. YN stopped at the glass door, standing face to face with the woman. After several moments of staring, the order was finally given to open the door. The woman’s shaking fingers unlocked it, pushing it open.

“You’ve served your purpose.” A quiet voice spoke across the lobby, echoing on the tiled floors. “You may go.” The woman burst into tears, shoving past YN and onto the street. “Agent LN… how courteous of you to take her place.”

YN entered the lobby tentatively, keeping her head on a swivel. She turned the corner, coming face to face with the bomber. Casey Griffin stood behind the group of hostages, hands tucked behind his back. A twisted, sacrilegious grin on his lips. The group at his feet were huddled together, most were sobbing quietly. Holding people they most likely didn’t know. She knew from experience that tense situations erased all lines between humans. Everything begins to blur when terrified panic sets in.

“I’m here, Griffin. What do you want?” She demanded, her hand resting on her weapon. There was a buzz of static in her ear, the line opening.

“We don’t have a visual of you anymore, LN. Get back into sight.”

Griffin took a step forward, around his subjects. A small, black remote in his hand. Eyes steady on her face. Studying her. He exhaled sharply, coming to a stop right before her.

“I was hoping you’d be more… well, more.” He frowned, disappointed. YN’s eyebrow lifted, unable to follow his thoughts. “Such a shame… I’ve read all these great things about you. Every case you’ve solved, every step you’ve made to get here. You’re much more impressive on paper.”

“Get to the point.” YN sneered, her jaw clenched. Griffin smirked, eyes scanning down her face again. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“All you feds- no taste for the theatrical. I much rather prefer the Avengers.” He grinned, eyes sparkling dangerously. YN felt her heartbeat pick up It’s pace. Heart threatening to burst out of her chest. “Oh, that’s right… congratulations, by the way. What’s it like- being engaged to a fossil? Are his brains still scrambled?”

“Shut up.” She hissed, fingers itching to reach out and wrap around his throat. He only tilted his head, pouting. He began pacing, orbiting around her slowly. Her shoulders tensed, defenses began raising even further. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you see, I’m very well acquainted with Sergeant Barnes.” Griffin slowed to a stop again, on her right. He leaned in, close enough she could feel his breath against her skin. “He murdered my husband.”

The pounding in her chest seemed to have leapt into her throat. Breathing was much harder now, her skin crawled as her brain went into overdrive. Something was wrong… what was going on?

“He doesn’t do that anymore.” YN admitted, her voice lower than she thought it would be. Threatening to crack.

“But he does.” He hissed, gripping her arm tightly. Yanking her to his chest. His free hand came up to her ear, ripping the unit out and flinging it into the wall. His fingers fluttered down to her chin, grasping it tightly and forcing her face to his. He stared down at her. Anger burning in his irises, the dark circles under his eyes. His nostrils flared. “What makes it even worse is that he chose to do it. With Hydra, he had no choice. But with the Avengers? He had every decision laid out before him and he chose.”

YN flinched, flecks of saliva landing on her cheek. Her jaw clenched down tighter, eyes closing momentarily. Griffin’s hand crept down from her face, into the pocket of her pants. His fingers grasped the device, pulling it out. He held the device to her face, unlocking it then shoving her away.

“So now,” Griffin gave her a maniacal grin. YN was beginning to get whiplash from his mood swings. He was unpredictable. Unstable. Devolving before her eyes. She glanced back to the group of hostages. “He gets to flex that autonomy again. Oh, how lovely- he was your last call.”

“Why do you have me here, Griffin?” YN demanded, attempting to take control of the situation. If he was distracted, she could maneuver and gain the upper hand. “If you wanted to go after Bucky you would’ve done it. Why do any of this? Why do you need them?”

Griffin spared a quick glance to the group of shivering civilians. He hummed quietly, pressing dial for Bucky’s number. YN felt a drop of sweat bead down her neck. Rolling to meet the bulletproof fabric over her torso. She was alone in here, responsible for the lives of those petrified people. Staring and waiting for her to do something. Help them.

Her eyes fell to the remote in his hand. She could snatch it. The bomb was his power move. His leverage. Then again, the hostages were bargaining chips. He had to give something up. She had to remove variables.

“Let them go.” YN urged, holding her hands out in surrender. “You’ve got me, you’ve got my attention. Let them go.” He sighed dramatically, eyes rolling as he pressed the button for speakerphone.

“It’s no fun without an audience.” He whined, shrugging as he turned to the hostage group. “And to think- we were just getting to the good part. Fine! Leave, all of you.”

The group all scrambled to their feet, taking their leave before he changed his mind. The stampede rushed the door, cramming themselves out into the street. YN’s heart slowed, the adrenaline fading in her veins slightly. Her priority was taken care of- they all made it out alive.

“Hello?” YN never thought she would be nervous to hear Bucky’s voice. Casey smiled at the phone, eyes boring into her skull. “YN? Hello?”

“She can’t make it to the phone right now.” Griffin responded, giving her a mocking pout. The other end fell silent. YN could almost feel the paranoia settle over his body. “I would ask you to leave a message but I’m afraid she won’t be around much longer to hear it.”

An idea began to form, tingling at the base of her skull. YN gulped nervously. She had to keep him distracted- keep him focused on Bucky. But that also meant she had to stay focused on Casey. She couldn’t say a word to Bucky. Not yet.

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” Bucky hissed. YN closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She could pull her weapon. But could she pull it fast enough? Griffin could blow the place to smithereens. She could try to get the remote- every solution seemed to fall back to the same outcome. She grit her teeth- he had the upper hand. She could do nothing but wait it out.

“Joshua Rivers.” Casey replied. While his voice was smooth and unrestrained, his eyes told a different story. Seething, red hot rage burned in his veins. “Does that name ring any bells to you, Sargeant? Let me give you a hint anyways- I know how fragile the mind can be in the older years. He was a lead operative for Hydra. Four months ago, you raided his warehouse and instead of arresting him, you put a bullet through his skull.”

“He deserved more.” Bucky hissed, his voice crackling through the speaker. Echoing in the empty building. Casey scowled, his nose scrunching in anger. “That warehouse housed human experimentation projects.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Casey screamed, veins in his neck popping out against his skin. Pumping adrenaline in time with his heart. “He was a person- he had people who loved him, cared for him. You took that away from me. I can’t help but wonder… how you’ll feel about the same circumstances.”

“Where is YN?” Bucky demanded, keeping his voice level. YN began to creep her fingers up, toward the gun in her holster. She had one chance. He was distracted- she could gain the upper hand.

“Well, that’s a tricky question. It’s only a matter of time before she’s… everywhere.” Griffin shrugged, swinging his gaze back to YN. Her fingers faltered, halting at her hip. She was close, her thumb brushed the cold metal of the gun. “So now… now I think I’ll return the favor. You took something from me. The only person that ever mattered. You destroyed my world.”

“If you touch her, I swear to-“

“You don’t believe in God, Sergeant.” Griffin’s slow drawl interrupted the threat. His tongue ran over his lips, taking a deep breath. “He’s not real. If he were, don’t you believe that none of this suffering would happen?” There was a ruckus of noise on the other end of the phone, Bucky panting heavily. A door slamming. “This is your repentance, James Barnes.”

YN’s fingers wrapped around the metal plating, her nerves settling. She could make this draw. It would be fast enough. It would be accurate. She could end it once and for all. She exhaled slowly, counting down.

Three…

Two…

One…

In a flash, YN pulled her gun from her side. Aiming it at Casey’s chest and pulling the trigger. The loud gunfire echoed- ringing in her ears. Her heart sank. Stomach plummeting to her feet.

She missed.

Casey’s expression settled into one of contempt. Disappointment. The hell fire turned to her, his focus shifting from Bucky to YN. Surging toward her, his hand swung out, shoving the muzzle to the ceiling as she fired again. Casey’s fist tightened around her phone, a strong punch to her kidney sending her to her knees, wheezing for air. YN grunted, her hand swinging at a wide angle, but it was only deflected as the heel of his hand connected with her nose. Releasing a sharp cry, YN cradled her nose carefully. Eyes watering and face stinging. Bucky’s frantic shouts barely audible as she knelt, gasping in pain. Her thoughts muddled and slow.

Casey sighed dramatically, ripping the weapon from Yn’s hand. She groaned, disoriented as a fresh wave of pain throbbed from her face. Blood seeped from between her fingers, dripping down into a puddle on the tile floor.

“Say goodbye to your fiancée, Sergeant.”

~~~~~~

Bucky all but tossed the motorcycle onto the curb as he skidded to a stop. A blazing inferno consumed the building, scorching the blackened trees that once surrounded it. The hand gripping his throat squeezed tighter as he stumbled toward the police line. Shoving his way through bystanders.

He felt sick- choking back the nausea bubbling from his stomach. Fire bellowed from the gaping, blown out glassless windows. Portions of the building were collapsed, the rest soon to follow. He barreled through shouting police officers, desperate to reach the building.

“Barnes!” He didn’t turn- even though the voice was familiar. He had to get to her- she was still alive, he knew she was. She had to be. “Barnes- man, you can’t go in there!”

Hands grasped his metallic shoulder, pulling him back roughly. Bucky grunted, swinging his arm around, taking hold of the man’s bulletproof vest. He clenched his jaw, staring down at Alex Knowles. One of her partners. Knowles’ eyes were puffy and rimmed with red. His skin was irritated, probably from wiping tears away.

“She’s still in there.” Bucky stated, without asking if she had been pulled out yet. He knew the process of these kinds of situations. The fire chief had to clear it and the area was nowhere near safe enough. But his girl was in there, in danger. Dying slowly, the longer he stood around. It had already been too long.

“Teams haven’t been sent in yet… I know you’re scared but you could make it worse if you go in there guns blazing. It could collapse the rest of the way.” Knowles warned, his eyes begging Bucky to stay put. Bucky shoved him away. Stripping off his jacket, Bucky scowled at the man.

“I will be the something worse if she’s not alive. Don’t test me, Knowles.” He growled, tying the jacket sleeves around his waist. Bucky turned on his heel, sprinting for the blown out doors of the bank. Ignoring the shouts of the firemen and police officers on the scene.

Inside, the flames locked the walls, staying maintained. It seemed the only thing the department had been doing since the explosion was clearing the fire. They had been prepared somewhat.

Bucky stumbled through the rubble, boots tripping over chunks of concrete and twisted metal. He had to find YN, she was somewhere. He had to keep himself from thinking the worst- she was alive. She would be okay. He just had to find her first.

He turned what would’ve been a corner of the bank, his heart rocketing through his chest. The beat thumping wildly.

Two bodies. Lying side by side.

“YN!” He picked his way through rubble, skidding to his knees beside her. Deep cuts laced her dirtied features, trapped under a chunk of concrete from the waist down. For now, he didn’t care of the implications that could lie beneath the rock. His trembling fingers found the pulse point in her neck, bowing his head and stifling a sharp sob as he felt a faint, slow thrum. He brushed the hair from her face gently, biting his lip to keep himself together. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Bucky shuffled down to her waist, hooking his fingers into the rock. Just as he began lifting, a sharp gasp startled him, almost dropping the rubble. He glanced back at YN- wide awake and sobbing. Carefully, Bucky spared a glance under the concrete. A metal rod went directly through her thigh, blood seeping from the wound.

“Shit…” It had been contained until he lifted it- now she was going to bleed out. He had to move fast. “YN, doll, I’ve got you. This is gonna hurt but it’ll be okay.”

She didn’t respond, sobs ripping from her chest as he stilled. Bucky took a deep breath, collecting his nerves. He moved quickly, throwing the concrete across the room with a loud grunt. An ear piercing shriek fell from Yn’s lips, her fist pounding the ground at her side. Bucky untied his jacket, wrapping it tightly around her injured thigh.

“Okay, sweetheart. We’re gonna get out of here.” Bucky’s chest tightened as he gathered her in his arms. She was shivering, huddling close to his body as best she could. Her skin was filthy, covered in soot, dirt, and blood. “Try to talk with me, sweet girl. Stay awake.”

“Ja- James…” YN’s fingers twisted into his shirt, tears soaking into his fabric. His heart clenched. It was his fault- that idiot had gone after her because of him. He held her closer, tighter, as he picked his way back to the doors. “I… I think I’m done- done smoking.”

Bucky almost laughed, forgetting his location. The situation fading as he spared a glance down to her face. She was grimacing, lips pulled and forehead wrinkled. But here she was- trying to joke with him.

“Why’s that, doll?” He questioned, emerging from the collapsed bank. The sunlight was strong, glaring down into his eyes. He hunched slightly, trying to block the intense light from her sensitive eyes. YN groaned, tugging weakly at his shirt. “We’re almost there, doll. Keep talking. Why’re you quittin’?”

“I’ve had enough smoke for one lifetime.” She replied, eyes fluttering. Paramedics rushed toward them, a gurney wheeled to their side. Bucky carefully lay her back, grasping her hand tightly as they rushed toward the ambulance.

Bucky didn’t reply, lips pressed together. Concern running rampant as they moved. His eyes caught Knowles and Bryant’s, averting his as soon as they landed. Loading into the ambulance.

“Bucky?” He quickly stepped up, sitting down in the back. Squeezing her hand tightly. YN gave a half- hearted return. Her fingers tangling with his, eyes closed. “Stay… please…”

“I’m here, sweetheart.” Bucky smiled, hoping his face could mask the desperate panic he felt in the pit of his stomach. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #james barnes x female reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader

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trico-cottage · 3 years

Text

❀Beware the Faeries -Ranboo x Reader (Platonic)-

Pairing: Ranboo x Reader (Platonic)

Gn!reader

Warnings: Angst, some language, angry Dadza

Word Count: 2,017

A/N: I'm so sorry I got super carried away for this. I only meant to make a bit of angst, and then it kept going. I'm willing to make a guaranteed fluff to make it up to everyone. Just send your requests

Part One

*Ranboo POV*

"Where did you get this?" Phil asked sternly, holding the delicate purple flower in a tight grasp. "I already told you, I got it in the forest." I replied, looking up from my journal. "Yes, 3 bloody weeks ago Ranboo. Now I'm going to ask you again. Where did you get this flower from?" Phil hisses out.

"I-I got it from someone I met while I was in the forest." I answered, scared of why he was so angry. "It's not a big deal, they were very nice, and they practiced magic as well." I told him, hoping to help relieve his worries. However, this only made Phil angrier. His eyes widen and he throws the flower to the ground, crushing it under his boot. "Phil!" I yell, jumping up while staring at the place his boot stood.

"I can't believe you were so careless. I mean, accepting a flower from a fucking fae?! Have Techno and I taught you nothing?" Phil yelled, now seeming more frantic than angry. I look up to meet his eyes, understanding his concern. "A faerie? I didn't kno-" I was cut off by Phil grabbing my shoulders. "Ranboo, you know the fae are dangerous, and you know you should never accept a bloody gift from them. They have nothing but ill intent, and now you've brought it straight into our home."

I quickly wipe my eyes on my sleeve, ridding my eyes of the burning tears before they fell. "Phil, I'm sorry, I didn't know." I say in a small voice. "They just seemed so nice, I- I didn't know." I repeat.

Techno enters the room, seeing how Phil was still gripping my shoulders. "Phil, what is all the yelling about?" He asks, his hand coming off of the axe on his hip. Phil releases me and turns to Techno. "Ranboo accepted a gift from a faerie." He explains simply. Techno tenses, walking over to us. "You're sure it was a fae, how do you know?" He asks.

Phil lifts his boot and we all look down at it. The flower is completely undamaged, returned to its original size and petals as vibrant as ever. He lets out a breath, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. After a moment, he lifts his head, looking back to Techno. In an unspoken agreeance, Techno leaves the room and Phil bends down to pick up the flower.

"What are you guys doing?" I ask, following Phil as he walks to the living area. "We're going to need to kill them." He said, tossing the flower into the fireplace. We both watch as the flames surround it, doing nothing to damage it. I look to Phil and meet his eyes. "What do you mean kill them? They didn't do anything." I say frantically. "What part of fae do you not fucking understand Ranboo? They are dangerous and evil creatures, and they only gave you that flower to trap you. We have to kill them to release the magic and destroy the flower. That's the only way to break the curse." Phil explains harshly.

We turn as Techno enters the room, his old iron axe in hand along with a bow and quiver of arrows for Phil. "Iron is their only known weakness, so lets hope we can brute force it." He explains, handing the archery set to Phil. My head is spinning with all of the information, and I can't do anything but watch as the two men prep for the mission.

*Reader POV*

As I'm busy cleaning some dishes, I feel crushing feeling in my chest. It wasn't painful, but I immediately knew why it happened. Ranboo had crushed the flower. I put a hand over my chest, and walk to sit at my table. Why would he have crushed it? What did I do to make him decide that?

After a few minutes, I pull myself together and go back to my chores, only to be interrupted soon after by a fiery burn in the same spot as before. I am unable to stop my fae wings from erupting into existence at the feeling. It had been years since I had last seen my wings, they stretched and fluttered upon their release. I knew that I had to follow the flower and find Ranboo to ask why. I walk from my home and leave my wings to do the rest, my instincts following the pull of the flower.

In a mere matter of minutes, I arrive at a quaint house. I land at the door and rest my hand on the wood, gathering the courage to knock. I take a deep breath and carefully knock on the door, waiting for Ranboo to answer. I hear a few voices discussing something inside, and I consider turning and going back home. My thoughts are interrupted by the door being opened harshly.

On the other side, I am greeted by a man with broad shoulders and pink hair neatly draped over his shoulder. He is wearing a mask with sharp tusks and a pig face, with deep red eyes glaring at me from behind it. I open my mouth to ask for Ranboo, but I'm unable to get a word out as the man grabs me and pulls me inside the house.

As soon as he closes the door, he harshly pushes me against it, holding me there by my throat. I struggle to grab at his arms, trying to get him to release me. As he holds me, I look past him and see Ranboo standing with another man. Ranboo looks as terrified as me while he struggles to hold back the tears brimming in his eyes.

"Why are you here, what do you want with him?" The man with Ranboo asks, his words calm, but threatening. I try chocking out some words, and the masked man lets up his grip enough for me to speak.

"I don't know what you're talking about I swear! I just wanted to know why Ranboo destroyed the flower I gifted him." I cry out, panicked. The man glares at me. "We know what you are fae, so release the curse and leave forever, or we will kill you." He threatens. My eyes widen at his words and I gasp out in shock. "No please, let me explain. I am of fae origin, but I am not devious I swear! Please just let me go and let me explain myself!" I beg.

The masked man holding me looks back to the other one, silently asking what he wanted to do. The man nods slightly and my captor guides me through the room to a chair and shoves me down, grabbing his axe to remind me I can't try anything.

I look from the axe, up to Ranboo and his friend, taking a deep breath as I prepare to explain. "You're right, I am a faerie, but only partially. My mother was a witch and she despised the fae, but was forced to work with them when she made the accident of falling for their trap. They knew she had wanted a child, so they offered to bless her with one. She had no choice but to accept, so they granted her a pregnancy. So yes, I am part fae, but I never embraced them. My mother taught me everything she could and sent me to the forest spirits. She sacrificed herself to the fae's evil tricks in order to have me embrace the good of the forest instead. I promise I wasn't trying to hurt Ranboo, I only gave him a gift of the forest." I explained breathlessly.

"And how do you expect us to believe your story?" The masked man asks, his grip tightening on the axe. "You can ask the spirits of the forest. I know Ranboo is of magic, and I assume you both have an understanding of it as well. I can take you back to my home and you can ask them. You know they don't lie." I reason, hoping they will listen. The two men look back to each other and seem to agree. I look to Ranboo and see his hopeful eyes, I have to make sure he sees the truth.

After a long walk with a cold axe held to my back, we finally reach my home. The three men stood and waited as I carefully knelt down in the small clearing where I first met Ranboo. "Hello spirits, I'm here to ask a favor of you." I say, looking up and meeting Ranboo's gaze.

The wind shifts, stirring up the grass and leaves on the ground. As the leaves are swept up by the wind, they begin circling. A small tornado is formed before the leaves suddenly drop.

From where the leave were, now stood a forest spirit, smiling softly to me. "Hello my dear, what brings you here today?" She asks softly. I stand and motion to the three men around us. She looks around, her smile dropping seeing the two nearly vicious looking men, and a nervous one. "Hello, how may I help you?" She addresses them sternly.

Before they can speak, I catch her attention. "They know I'm of fae origin, but they needed you to confirm that I do not follow the fae." I explain. She looks back to the men, still slightly confused. "Of course they don't associate with the fae. They may be half faerie, but they have been lead by me and the other spirits. They are they kindest soul we have seen, and it is quite ridiculous of you to even imply otherwise." She turns her attention to Ranboo. "And you. I'll have you know that flower was a gift of the forest. We gave them our blessing to bestow it upon you, and you attempt to destroy it. This is an insult to the forest and we do not take kindly to-"

"Please, stop." The man with the hat says. He steps forward to address the spirit. "It wasn't his fault. I found the flower and assumed the worst. My apologies." He says while kneeling. As she looks to him, she almost seems caught off guard. "Phil?" She asks, causing him to look up at her, confused. "You know me?" He questions back, standing to meet her. "Of course, all the spirits know of you. Who do you think guides the crows? I have taken care of a number of those who have fled." She explained.

Phil looked to the ground thoughtfully for a moment before returning his gaze to the spirit. "Yes, of course. Thank you for caring for them." He says, snapping out of his thoughts. The spirit walks back to me, placing a gentle hand on my back, addressing the men. "Now that we have shown the truth, I expect that the hostility and mistrust be finished. And sir, you can unhand the axe." She says softly, her smiled returned.

"The name is Technoblade, madam." He says, slightly bowing to her as he secures the axe to his hip. "Very well, Technoblade. I bid you three farewell, may we cross paths again." She then turns to me. "And take care my dear, never hesitate if you need assistance again." With her words, she places a soft kiss to my forehead before the leaves dance around her again. And just like her entrance, she was gone again.

With the spirit gone, the three men turn their attention back to me. Phil is the first to speak up. "My sincerest apologies, I hope you understand where the concern came from." He says with a bow of his head. I walk up to him, taking a hand in mine. "It is more than understood, thank you for listening to the spirit. These boys are very lucky to have you as a protector." I say while motioning to the other two.

As I make eye contact with Ranboo, he steps towards me. With the shy smile of his, he asks a quiet question. "Would you mind giving me another flower?"

#ranboo #ranboo x reader #platonic #dream smp x reader #x reader #gnreader #youtube x reader #minecraft x reader #ranboo x gnreader

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airplanned · 3 years

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Yiga!Zelda chunk time

First section of chapter 1. In which Link has a terrible time, but at least Aryll is sweet.

Link had a grueling day of standing absolutely still along the sides of rooms, protecting twelve-year-old Lady Aryll, Duchess of Faron. When he first greeted her, she wished him good morning, but he simply nodded to her as he fell into place three steps behind her. Today she decided to tell him everything she knew about crows, which was her latest obsession. She tried to convince everyone who would listen that she should have a flock of pet crows, and surely someone could make that happen. She had an awkward breakfast with the king, who did not want to hear about crows and emphasized the vital importance of her studies. The duchess' smile did not slip as she ate her toast, but Link felt the insistence on perfection like a punch to his gut.

She went to boring lessons in the morning, where she excelled--bright as she was--and kept trying to bring the conversation back around to corvids. Link prayed that they would discuss something interesting since he was not allowed to zone out without putting her life at risk.

On the way to her prayers, she asked, "Sir Link, what do you call a group of five crows and ten cuccos?"

Answering was unnecessary.

"A murder most fowl! Ha!"

He snorted, and she grinned, proud of herself for breaking through his stoicism.

For the next three hours, she sat on her knees before the Goddess statue until Link approached her. "Your Grace, you must prepare for tea." She rose slowly, taking his hand when he offered it. He escorted her back to her room to refresh herself, slipping her a vial of peppermint oil for her sore knees, and then escorted her to the solarium, where he had to listen intently to court gossip as he watched the fine ladies like a hawk should any of them pull a knife and lunge for his charge, should any of them slip something into her tea. The ladies thought that crows were not at all suitable pets, but perhaps ravens would be better. Gears began to turn in the duchess' head.

"Who is Lady Pelta?" she hissed as they made their way to dinner. The lady had been the subject of much conversation that afternoon.

"The one with the ferret," he murmured.

"Ohhh! Yes, that makes more sense."

And then there was an awkward dinner with the king and some painfully blunt lords who quizzed her on the details of her studies and then talked past her as they discussed how her prayer regimen could be altered for better results.

Link imagined how he would punch the first lord in the face, spin to smash the next lord's head into the table, and finish the turn with another punch to a third lord's throat before he pulled himself from his fantasy and reminded himself to be on guard.

The duchess was still at an age where she wanted to stay up late, and did not want to admit that she was exhausted by nine o'clock, so it was Link's job to approach her. "Your Grace, you have a busy day tomorrow."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he gave her a blank stare. "If you insist," she said, daintily removing her napkin from her lap. Link bit back a smile.

As she entered her room with her handmaids, she said, "Goodnight, sir knight," as she always did because she liked the rhyme.

He bowed. "Goodnight, Your Grace."

He nodded to the guard stationed at her door, handing off his protective duties, and then the rest of the evening was his.

And the only thing he wanted more than passing out and sleeping for twelve hours was to kick the crap out of something or have a really good spar. Get his blood moving from where it sagged in his veins. Remind his muscles what they were for, remind himself what he was capable of and why he was chosen for the honor of personal guard to the royal heir, why he was chosen by the Sword that Seals the Darkness, which was tragically quiet on his back.

So he went down to the guard's training area, where everyone gave him dirty looks, finishing up their own training abruptly and leaving.

Alone on the training floor, he allowed himself to sigh.

The sword sang as he pulled it from its scabbard. Just the two of them then tonight. Like always.

He'd spoken less than two dozen words today.

He set his feet and stared at his imaginary opponent, holding the defensive posture for several long beats to stretch the muscles awakening with the sword. The first few forms were to stretch, but as the tension rolled from his shoulders the swings picked up speed, his pulse quickened and sweat raised along his hairline.

He reminded himself that the royal guard didn't hate him. They hated the sword and how it represented the coming Calamity. They hated the symbol. But the sword was a part of him, and his life was a symbol, so that didn't really help.

Slash and parry and slash and stab.

They were just intimidated and jealous that he was so much more skilled than they were. That wasn't a brag. It was true. There were only three royal guards who could hold their own against Link for more than a minute, and they were all ranked so high that they were too busy to spar with him and had no interest in being soundly beaten by a teenager in front of their subordinates. Every now and then, the guards would get so ticked at him that they would come at him as a group. That would get his blood pumping. The problem was that when they did that, they meant it, and he actually did have to incapacitate everyone to get out unscathed and then he would get a stern lecture from one of the generals.

Slash and parry and slash and stab.

Why didn't any of them want to work on improving themselves? Link was getting stale here with nothing to challenge him, and maybe teaching could be that challenge, maybe teaching would raise the entire level of competence among the guard. Link was half tempted to put a sword in the duchess' hand until she improved and he would have someone to spar with. He was half tempted to beg one of the champions to come visit or for Mipha or Urbosa to send a diplomatic entourage for no reason along with a bunch or warriors he could battle. If not for the duchess, he would beg for a transfer.

Slash, parry, slash, stab.

"Have you ever thought of joining the Yiga?"

He spun before the words sunk in. He'd thought he was alone

The rest of the guard had left when he came in.

And then he was facing a Yiga foot soldier, leaning against the banister at the bottom of the stairs, their arms crossed and a sickle hanging from each hand. Their faceless head was tilted as if inspecting him. "I think you'd do well there."

He lunged. Just before his blade skewered them, they teleported in a puff of smoke and a flutter of red tickets. He spun, and his sword caught against their sickles.

"You’re fast. The Yiga appreciate speed."

The Yiga's voice was light and lyrical. A woman.

He shoved, pushing her back and back and back, quick footwork and his sword working double time to block and push. She alternated slashing her sickles in quick twists of her wrist and in full body swings with more power than he would expect of her small frame behind them. He had to duck and dodge and dart, the length of his reach made null when she pushed in close, and then immediately necessary again when he won another step of ground. He pushed all the way until she was a single step from the wall and his blade was at her throat, caught an inch from her skin by both her sickles.

They wrestled and he glared, his sword caught, the muscles of his arm straining, just an inch away from ending her. Just. One. Inch. The sickles trembled as she pushed back, and he allowed himself a small smile of victory.

But then the trembling stopped. She leaned forward as if there was no strain at all in her arms and shoulders and core. As if she'd been putting on a show of a struggle and now she was bored. "You're strong too. We could have a lot of fun together.”

He didn't let his surprise show. He threw a punch at her gut with his free hand, but she poofed away and he stumbled forward before spinning, ready for the next attack.

She whispered in his ear, "So grumpy."

He hissed and twisted, and she caught his blade against her own, twisting and locking, and suddenly she had the sword locked between both sickles in one hand. With her free hand, she reached out and dragged a gloved finger from his forehead to the tip of his nose.

He twisted the sword free, scattering her sickles across the floor, and the sword spun in an arc to slam against her side, caught at the last minute by a knife.

She laughed and leaned in. "Think about it."

He stumbled as she vanished.

Link stood at the ready for a stressed minute, his eyes darting about the room, waiting for her next attack. Then he dashed up the stairs, but there was no sign of her there or in the hallway beyond. An then he was running for the general's office, praying he was still around and could sound the alarm.

#Zelda #my fic #Yiga!Zelda

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whimsywispsblog · 3 years

Text

Fault in Our Stars

Warning: PTSD, references to childhood abuse and trauma, sexual trauma and depression.

Inspired by: @vukis2

Lips quivering. Tears trailing. Body shaking from the cold and fear. Eyes widened- alarmed and frightened.

Running into the dark forest was definitely a bad idea. But what was Donna to do other than run? Run for her dear life? Run away somewhere- somewhere away from the lands infested with blood-sucking vampiric creatures that feasted on her family's blood, leaving her the youngest and the damaged for last.

Damaged. Ruined. In every sense. In every way, a woman is not to be ruined.

The hazy light of the gloomy skies shaded by the canopies of the tall and twisted brown trees lit the dark path ahead. Each step was taken carefully as the rustling of the carpet of dried leaves, and twigs below Donna's feet gave a crisp crackle, each sound making the girl turn back while tightly squeezing the arm of her ragged doll, Angie. And the sounds of the high-pitched giggles turned into ear-piercing shrieks. In the dark forests, vile creatures lurk in every corner, staggering and tottering in the shadows hunting their doomed prey. A forest lore, narrated by every village person. Or was it a forewarning left to the villagers by the unfortunate quarries who could never return to see another sunrise?

Most never knew which, but that day, Donna realised that it was the latter.

The dark forests always played with its victims' minds: most never escaped from its evil clutches, and the ones that did, they were driven to insanity by never-ending nightmares of its devilish creatures. There was no escape.

Donna stopped as she heard sudden footsteps approaching. They were fast, very fast.

'Run.' 'Run.' 'Run.' She kept commanding her body, but her legs shook and felt heavy, making the girl fall on her knees. The girl refused to turn back, and she closed her eyes. The wind was strong, pushing her backwards as if tempting her to open her eyes and see what stood behind her.

And then, the sounds of the ravens squawking, but in human tongue filled the languid air of the forests. Their crows were so frightening, so horrifying that they made poor Donna's flesh bleed and cut.

//"She the woman who made the Devil destroy the paradise for a kiss,"//

"I did not fall. I did not fall." The girl repeated the sentence over and over again, clutching Angie close to her breasts. The ravens flew around her, its sharp beaks piercing through her tender skin, its shrill squeaks hurting her sensitive ears, the pitch getting louder and louder until it started ringing in her ears. They started ripping her hair from her scalp and skinning her thighs, relishing in her decaying flesh.

The girl then let out a loud scream.

"HE PUSHED ME!"

//"No one questions the Devil, whore!"//

And with that, it was back to the eerie tranquillity of the forests.

Eyes watching. Ears listening. Tongues wetting. Stomachs growling.

She was tired. Scared. But determined to escape from the forests' demons. But would she?

Donna shook her head sideways, swallowing all her doubts. She was going to escape and start her life anew, somewhere far, far away. In lands where she was not damaged. Not cursed. But welcomed with open hearts and warm smiles. And with that, she pushed herself up, not letting her mind succumb to the dark pits of self-doubt.

The frigid air bit into the girl's tender skin through her ripped clothes and burnt her lungs while numbing her nose. The girl hugged herself, trying to keep the cold away. Lips pale, eyes swollen, hair covered in icicles, and her body covered in dried blood and mud. It seemed like the path went on forever, and the sky-kissing mountains were just an illusion.

The earthy smell after the first rainfall that loomed over the dark lands slowly faded away as a more metallic smell with burnt char took over—burning flesh. Someone or something was close.

Donna chanted words of Orison to her creator- for protection. For courage. For salvation. And if the Gods chose to cut her thread of fate, then so be it. She was ready to welcome the torment of hell that awaited her. Somewhere away from the abhorrent lands that she walked on. Was walking on. Her trembling hands tightly clasped on Angie's neck while her steps became slower and more cautious.

The girl found a rock big enough to hide behind as the smell got stronger and sounds of inhuman growls got louder. She didn't want to see them as she shut her eyes tightly, her prayers chanted at a frantic pace bobbing her head back and forth. Until. A human voice caught her attention- a voice which she regretted listening to.

"Take the fat one. That's all you will get for the night," A bunch of snarls poured out from all directions until the person finally screamed, "SHUT UP! Go find more food somewhere else!"

The sound of soft whimpers made Donna peek from behind the rock. In a wooden cage were 6 small-sized men, looking down at the creatures in fear. They were the dwarfs. On the ground was a giant dwarf that shouted for mercy, as his limbs were torn from all sides and his body ripped with the splatter of blood and his insides. Donna held back her urge to gasp, biting her tongue so hard that she felt the taste of blood in her mouth.

"Oi fish freak!" Donna's attention shifted from the mutilated remnants of the corpse to that of a man, tall and sturdy with messy, greasy grey hair covered by a hat. He wore a long brown coat that swayed with his every movement. He had a gigantic hammer in his hand, one that made the girl tremble in fear. Not only could this man control a horde of dangerous human-eating monsters, but he was also burly, judging by the size of the metallic hammer.

"Hey, moron! Yeah, you! Come here ya quim!" A blob-like grotesque creature stumbled towards the man. It looked so ugly and ghastly that Donna felt the contents of her stomach rise to her throat.

"Fry these midgets and send them to Miranda." The fish-creature bowed its entire body as if nodding to the man. The man with the hammer turned away, facing the rock as a slight smirk appeared on his face, and that scared Donna. Did he see her?

Donna pulled herself behind the rock as she breathed in heavily, hoping that he hadn't seen her. She felt something warm and wet on her shoulder, and she slowly looked up. To her horror, one of those creatures stood behind her, looking at her famished. The girl let out a loud scream, pulling Angie close to her chest. But before the creature could put its sharp rotten nails on her, its head was smashed by something, making its blood splash all over her. The girl, who was still in shock, stared at the creature's headless remains, her body trembling like a leaf and her heartbeat thudding loudly.

Suddenly, her hair was grabbed, and she was picked up like a rag doll. Her eyes stayed fixated on the mushy brown ground, but a gloved hand grabbed her face and forced her to look at the person. It was the man with a hammer.

"Mhmm...Young blood," He said, observing the girl's face. His eyes landed on her ruby-red necklace. "Scarlet, eh." The man dropped Donna, and she landed with a soft grunt. He bent down to her level, watching her closely. The girl was about to beg for grace. The sounds of painful screams made her turn towards the horrific scene. The dwarfs were set on fire, all of them hurdling close to each other, screaming into each other's bodies as if sharing their pain and death.

The man in front of her grabbed her face and made him look at her again, pulling out something from his coat. An apple. Delightfully red. He brought the fruit closer to the girl's lips. Without wasting another second, Donna grabbed the apple from his hand and bit into its scrumptious flesh, greedily and ravenously. Without chewing properly, she bit into more and more until she choked a few pieces out.

The man watched the girl eat in dark amusement. A raven perched on his shoulder, crowing in his ears, making him grimace.

"Yeah yeah, it's poisoned." He said, shooing the raven away. The girl was just halfway through her apple, but she felt dizzy and sick. It was as if the world was spinning at such a fast pace, and she felt as if she was losing control of her body. The man effortlessly put the girl on his shoulder and walked away while magically getting his hammer to fly right into his hands.

...

Donna's eyes fluttered open to the sound of people talking and the muffled mewls of a younger person, probably a girl. She felt hot, and an unusual but familiar pain tingled throughout her body, pulsating through each nerve excruciatingly. The girl tried to move her wrists, but there was something tight and sharp clamped around her wrists, restraining any movement.

Angie...Angie wasn't there in her hands. Donna bolted up, alarmed and terrified. The room she was in was quite cold, dark and damp, like the inside of a cave. It was dimly lit by the lamps on the walls. In front of her stood a woman with raven feathers unfurled behind her. To her right was the hammer-man, telling the woman about something. Between them was another chained girl with platinum blonde hair, bloodied, bruised and naked. Probably a survivor. Or a prey.

The lady with the raven feathers grabbed the blonde girl's face and lifted her up, her feet away from the ground.

"Young Rose...Fresh virgin blood," The woman mused with a slight grin, squeezing the girl, Rose's face. The woman brought her closer, taking a deep whiff of the girl's neck. "She smells delicious. Girls! Come here!" The woman shouted, and out of the shadows glided three women, giggling and jumping with their faces covered in blood. As they walked, a swarm of flies surrounded them and, out of their sleeves, fell off maggots- wet and slimy.

The raven woman threw Rose in their direction, and the poor girl fell with a loud thud. "Her blood, please." The woman ordered the three girls.

"Of course, Mother Miranda!" The girls giggled and laughed, taking Rose and throwing her to a bed of needles and kept pushing her deeper into the sharp metal, impaling the helpless girl's body. The cave echoed with the laughter of the insect-witches and the weak cries of dying Rose.

Donna watched the scene in horror and started crawling backwards until her back hit the wall. The raven lady, Mother Miranda, turned her attention to Donna, looking at her with steely darkened eyes. The woman disappeared into a murder of crows and suddenly appeared in front of the girl and kneeled down to her eye level. Her pale and cold fingers grabbed the girl's jaw and pulled her forward, observing her closely.

"What is your name, child?"

"D-Donna", The girl stuttered, shaking uncontrollably. "Donna Beneviento."

"Ah, House Beneviento! My daughters and their spawns recently ravaged their Village and families," Mother Miranda chimed, looking at the three insect-witches who kept stabbing Rose's mutilated corpse with their large metallic nails. "Young Rose was from there."

"W-Why d-do you kill?" Mother Miranda smiled at the girl as she pushed the stray strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Human fear and blood keep us alive." The woman traced her fingers across Donna's cheekbones. "We were damned by the Old Gods, the ones who were in favour of your wretched kind."

"Y-you are all m-monsters!" Donna choked out, pushing herself away from the woman's touch. Mother Miranda grabbed a fistful of the girl's hair and pulled her close, biting the girl's neck. Donna let out a piercing scream, trying to pull herself away from the woman.

"Ah, that's a first. You're not Virgin blood. Unchaste!" Miranda raised an eyebrow and looked at the girl in disgust.

//"Stained and the tarnished scent of the vile harlot"//

A tiny scar near the girl's left eye caught Miranda's attention. The woman roughly pushed her hair away and looked at Donna's blistered scar in revulsion. "And she is a cripple."

"Not a virtuous Doll, eh?" The hammer man chimed, looking at Donna in amusement, but once his eye landed on her scar, his smile dropped.

Doll...Doll...Angie! Donna gasped and looked up at the hammer man in distress. "Angie! Where is Angie, my doll?!"

"Burning." Mother Miranda replied with an indifferent expression.

"W-What? N-no! NO!" Donna screamed and shouted, trying to push herself upon Miranda, but the woman was strong. Without much effort, she slapped Donna, making the girl break down into a whimpering mess.

Angie. The only remnant of her innocence now burnt away in the heat.

"This one's of no use to me."

"But she smells so delightful!" Said one of the insect witches, sniffing her around and licking the blood of the wound where Miranda had bitten her.

"Indeed she is, child. But your Mother won't be pleased with any of you drinking impure blood," Miranda spat, looking at Donna in contempt. Donna looked down, ashamed and embarrassed at the way they kept taunting her. Just like how she was harassed in her Village for something that wasn't even her fault...

'I did not fall...I did not fall...'

"Alright then, she can be a nice play-thing for the Lycans." The hammer man said, putting his hammer on the ground and resting his weight on it.

"Fine then, Heisenberg. The girl's fate is in your hands." Mother Miranda got up, glaring at the girl.

His name is...Heisenberg? Familiar name.

The man nodded, grabbed the girl's chain. He pulled the chain sharply with a slight grunt, making the girl stumble and dragged her across the sharp stony ground. Donna let out soft mewls of pain.

"Quit your whining!" He said as he dragged her slower this time, making every inch of her skin throb, red and wet.

Sounds of metal grinding metal stirred the girl from her disturbed slumber. She wasn't sure how she slept off. She was still shackled in chains, but instead of being seated in front of a Cult family, she sat alone in a chamber, cold. And wet.

"Ah, you're up!" A loud, boisterous sound made the girl flinch lightly. She slowly tilted her head up to look at the person.

Heisenberg. Smirking and eyes glinting with mischief. He held out a water jug to the girl. Although she desperately needed it to quench her thirst and wet her dried mouth, after the poisoned apple, she was afraid.

"Relax, there's nothing in the water," Heisenberg rolled his eyes in annoyance. The girl hesitated to take the glass from him, which caused the man to groan in frustration and sipped a little of the water. "See? I am alive. It's normal water,"

Donna quickly grabbed the jug from him with trembling hands and drank the water, messily and shakily, the water running down her neck. She drank in so fast that the poor girl choked on water, coughing up some of it.

Heisenberg chuckled, sliding a plate of stale bread and some bright coloured fruit. The girl didn't wait for another second and quickly devoured the food down, juice of the squished fruit staining her skin and clothes. Heisenberg observed the girl quietly with a neutral expression. Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it up, smoking in a direction away from the girl's face.

"W-Why a-are y-you not killing m-me?" Donna's soft stutters pulled the man out of his thoughts. He rubbed his eyes as he contemplated her question, letting out a soft yawn.

"Didn't you hear what I told Miranda?" Donna nodded her head sideways, making the man sigh. "A play-thing for the beasts."

"W-Will they...k-kill me?"

"That depends." Heisenberg shrugged, walking away from the room. "Oh, and the chains will stay. " He said, closing the door behind him.

Donna pulled her legs close to her chest, tears trailing down her eyes. Her skin was bruised and bloodied, her clothes tattered, she stank, she was starved, she was tortured, and she was ruined. Too much for a lifetime.

The sound of the crow of a raven made the girl lookup. 'How did that bird get in?' The girl thought, looking at the bird baffled. The raven had red eyes and looked at the girl menacingly. It let out one more shrill crow and dove straight towards her, its sharp beak pointing at her. Donna curled into her legs and let out a whimper, too tired to scream. But the attack never happened. Instead, a laugh- malicious and vulgar- emerged. Donna looked up, and there stood the Hag.

//Broken disgusting whore! Shame on you!//

Donna didn't fight back. She stayed quiet, thinking of her time at home, back in the Village. The Hag continued with her taunts and screams, her ravens poking the girl's delicate flesh, but the girl was too tired, too lost. Too broken.

"I know," Donna whispered, fresh hot tears trailing down her cheek as she remembered the night, back in the Village, when she got the Stigma of the Fallen Maiden- The whore.

Bodies sticking together with sweat. A heavy weight on her chest crushing the delicate flesh of her breasts. Hair yanked and tugged with a few strands ripped off. Teeth biting deep into her skin, blood flowing out of it. An unbearable pain as she felt herself lose her chastity and virtue...No longer virginal and innocent. She was marked and claimed by another man.

//You are no graceful deer like a faithful virtuous maiden! You intoxicate them with your ardour! You vile demon!//

"I know," Donna whispered again, her eyes heavy and burning and swollen. She cried no more. She couldn't. There was nothing to cry for. She was forever going to be this- a whore.

"Oi Hag! Get the fuck outta here! Go teach your lessons about virtues and morality to those Demitrescu girls." It was Heisenberg. The Hag turned back at the man and laughed loudly and sharply, making both Donna and Heisenberg wince in pain. The older woman burst into raven feathers, disappearing from the room. Heisenberg turned his attention towards Donna. He took a few steps towards her until he was close enough.

"I know what happened that night," He said, looking dead into Donna's shocked eyes. How did he know? The man sat down, placing his hammer by his side and taking his hat off, running his hand through his hair.

"H-how did y-you know?" Donna asked, looking up to the man.

"Tales like these spread fast through the Village and beyond." He shrugged. Donna nodded, her eyes glued to the cold ground, observing its cracks and crevices. "You don't remember me do you?" Donna looked at the man. The name Heisenberg did ring a bell for her. But she couldn't recall from where. "Ya remember the name, Karl?"

Karl...Karl...Heisenberg...

Karl Heisenberg! Heisenberg's son!

Donna nodded her head lightly, old memories of their time together as children returning to her. It was him.

The only child in the Village who was never afraid of her or treated her differently. Every time they were together, Karl's father would forcefully pull him away, shouting and screaming and hitting him for playing with the Spawn of Demon. But that never stopped Karl from going back to her.

Until.

They turned 16. She was a woman, and he was a man. She grew beautiful, and he grew taller.

She couldn't remember much, except one night during the Village's ritual: Young women who bled for the first time.

It was in the outskirts of the woods. Young Karl and Young Donna. Sitting by the rock. Moonlight dancing on their youthful flustered faces. Karl's gentle hand on her cheek, pulling her closer. And closer. And closer. Lips just touching. So soft.

"You disgusting boy!" And after that, all she remembered was being pushed away by Karl's father, her head hitting the ground sharply. And Karl's faint cries, "Donna!"

"W-Where d-did you go after that day?" Donna asked, her hands deeply buried into the fabric of her clothes.

"Father sent me away to another Village, to live with my uncle. Cruel man- known to straighten up Wild Things. But I just ran away." He shrugged. There was a silence between the pair. But this was a comfortable one—just the sounds of their breathing, with the gentle whistle of the winds outside.

"Why here?"

"Mhmm?" Heisenberg peered at Donna, rubbing his scruff. "Ah well, like you, that useless Hag caught me. But things are fine here. I get a roof on my head, food and clothes. No whores though," He snickered but immediately stopped seeing Donna flinch at the word. "If you want to survive here, don't let that hag get to you."

"Do you have any advice on how I'll survive you?" The girl asked.

"Huh. Why do ya ask?"

"You say I am a play-thing for the Lycans. You said they might eat me."

"Ah, that. Yes, the Lycans do enjoy the company. They're just dogs." He said nonchalantly, waving his hand.

"But I don't want to stay here."

"Unfortunately, Donna, for people like you and me who are called 'wild' and 'vile', this is the only place that we get close to home." Donna looked away, feeling fresh hot tears prickling in her eyes.

"There's no 'we', Karl," The girl snapped. Karl hid his surprise at her sudden change of demeanour behind an irritated scowl. "I am everything you're not. I am not a vile whore-"

"GODDAMIT DONNA", Karl stood up, throwing away his hammer in frustration, breaking something nearby. "How long, how fucking long are you gonna keep crying about that bullshit?! It happened. You were fucked, whether you like it or not. Going around telling everyone that you aren't a whore won't change anything-"

"I know," Donna whispered, shivering from cold and fear. "Believe me, I know." The woman looked up to Karl, staring deep into his eyes. "But that doesn't make me a whore. That doesn't make me vile."

"Then you fucking accept the circumstances. It is written in our fates." Heisenberg sighed.

Donna stared at Heisenberg, pained by the helplessness that radiated off him, as the memory played in her mind.

Fate...

"Karl, your father won't let me be with you. Forget being near you. Your reputation will be tarnished because of me. The Village thinks I am cursed," Said a 15-year-old Donna. It was nighttime during one of their many midnight trysts in the woods. When the Villagers were fast asleep, and no one tried to hurt the couple.

"To hell with the Villagers and my father. They can say whatever the fuck they want, but I will have this life my way, and I will take you with me." Donna smiled softly, feeling her heart fluttering at her lover's determination and adamance to want a life with her despite all the difficulties they would face.

"But what if this is how things have to be? What if it is just...written in our stars?"

"Well then, fuck the stars. It's our lives. No one has a say in it. You choose your path and if that makes you happy, then fuck everything else. You choose your fate," He said, planting a soft peck on her cheek.

"You told me that day, we choose our fate, Karl," Heisenberg grunted, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Yea. I fucking did. Now, where has it got us both, hm?"

Donna stood up from her place shakily and limped towards Karl until she could feel the tug of her shackles. She was close enough. She raised a hand towards the man's face, but before she could touch him, his hand shot up and grasped hers.

"Don't", He growled, his ocean-blue eyes piercing into hers, trying to intimidate her.

"Please," She whispered, wriggling her hands a little, making the man drop his hand, letting the woman touch his face.

Donna slowly traced his scars. A story behind every one of them. Some she knew, some she did not. Karl didn't flinch as she kept caressing his rough skin with her softer, bruised fingers. He just looked at her as if searching in her for the old Donna he knew. The old Donna would dream with him about a beautiful future they would never have. He found her.

But to Donna, she never saw her old Karl. The one who dared to dream despite their doomed circumstances. He was now a broken man. A hopeless man who had seen and been through enough. A man who forgot what it was to experience bliss.

"I don't know if I will ever get to live this life with you, the way we dreamed. But...If there is still some life in you, I'd like that." Donna said, pulling her hand slowly trailing to Karl's chest, feeling the soft, slow thud of his heartbeat. With a wave of his hand, Donna's shackles broke. Karl slowly encircled his arms around her waist, gently but firmly and pulled her closer. With a hand cupping her cheek, he looked at her.

"I would have loved that. But look at me now. I am one of them." He said, his hand lingering on a cut on her cheek that she got because of him when he dragged her towards the factory. "But you. You can live on. A better life."

"I could have, but that better life that I wanted," Donna paused, breathing in as she felt her words being swallowed. "I wanted it with you."

"But I can't give that to you, Donna."

"Then give it to me here. Right here." Donna said, inching closer to Karl, feeling his hot breath on her cold damped skin. Karl pulled her close and rested his head on her forehead, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth and comfort he got from her.

"Get some rest. By tomorrow, you will be better." Karl said, pulling away from her. Donna held his hands tight, afraid to let him go. Afraid to lose him again.

"W-What do you mean?" Karl slowly loosened her grip on his hands and smiled at her softly. Picking up his hat and hammer, he walked out of the room, shutting it from outside. Donna sat down, confused and dejected. Lying down on the cold floor, the girl shut her eyes tightly and sobbed, her wails and whimpers slowly lulling her to sleep.

It was as if the ground below her was shaking. She didn't know what it was. Donna jerked awake as she felt a sudden push from below. The girl gasped, looking around. It wasn't the room where Karl had kept her. It was...smaller and more cramped and...moving?

"Ah, Lady Beneviento! You are awake!" A jovial and cheery voice pulled Donna's attention. It was a man, friendly and big.

"W-Who are you, and where am I?"

"I am the Duke, a humble merchant, and you are in my carriage. Lord Heisenberg asked me to take you to the other side of the forest."

"Karl? Karl, where is he?!" Donna asked, looking around frantically.

"He couldn't make it," Duke said apologetically. "He wants you to take that little box. That should help you earn a living, not luxurious, but enough to survive," Donna looked to her right and there it was, the box. She opened it, and inside was Karl's chain that he wore every day, some coins and some ornaments. And a small doll that resembled Angie. But prettier and newer.

"What happened back there?"

"Lady Miranda caught him trying to escape. Ah, it looks like we're here!"

"Duke. Can I go back?"

"I'd suggest you not. He wants you to stay alive, my Lady. Best you honour his wishes. Do this for him" Donna looked at the chain, tracing the engravings on it. The girl looked into the box and saw a small note in it.

Thank you for setting me free. I hope to see you in another life where we will be together, just like we dreamt.

The girl pulled the note to her chest, feeling a strange pain in her body. She felt heavy. She felt like she was breaking apart. She felt as if she couldn't breathe. Duke looked at the girl sadly. He couldn't help her, and he wasn't sure how to.

"Thank you," Donna muttered, stepping out of the carriage with the box in her hand. Ahead she saw a little Village. A chance for a new life, but one without Karl. How could she live without him?

'Best you honour his wishes. Do this for him.'

"Okay, Karl." Donna sniffed, a bittersweet smile on her face, as she walked towards the Village, her hand tightly clutching the chain. As she approached, a man, probably the gatekeeper, stopped her.

"Who are you, and state your purpose."

"Donna. Donna Heisenberg. I seek refuge in your Village. Mine was destroyed by monsters." The gatekeeper nodded and took a moment to observe her ragged state, his eyes softening as he noticed her bruises and blood.

"Alright, follow me. You can speak to his Majesty." Donna nodded, smiling softly.

A new life. A better life. For Karl.

In the woods, near the factory lay Karl Heisenberg, bloodied and stabbed on the ground. He held a glove tightly in his hand. Donna's glove. The one he pulled from her when his father forcefully separated him from Donna. Rubbing his thumb across the soft material of the glove, Karl smiled, looking up to the heavens, his vision fading away slowly.

"Thank you, Donna."

#karl heisenberg #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg x donna beneviento #DonnaBerg

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comfortwriting · 3 years

Text

Maniac - G.W

George Weasley x Reader one shot/imagine inspired by the song ‘Maniac’ by Michael Sembello

About: George admires his crush (the reader) flourish as she discovers who she is and what she wants as she recovers from the toxic, abusive relationship she’s broken free from, her life takes a very interesting turn.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of physical and emotional abuse, partying.

This time last year you thought you found the love of life, despite all the warnings you collected from other girls in the above years - you ignored them and followed your heart. At first, he was kind, romantic, very chivalrous, especially in front of said friends and family; but behind closed doors he became a monster.

George Weasley, your close friend fell for you the very moment he laid eyes on you. He too warned you about the guy you were seeing, but you didn’t want to believe it “he isn’t like that” you defended him.

Within months your relationship turned sour, you weren’t the same girl anymore, your lover - this monster - had complete control over you. He picked what you could and couldn’t wear, eat and study, he chose who you could and couldn’t be friends with and if you were to go against him you would turn up to class the next morning covered in bruises. The abuse got so bad you had to wear layers under your robes, you were never around for meal times and for lack of a better word,

George felt like he was losing you.

He tried confronting your partner but there was little to no proof that he was the one responsible - after all, the monster pulled the wool over your eyes with his lies, he could do the same with everyone else and use magic if he felt at risk of exposure.

You were failing all of your classes, losing friends, your hair dropping out, your weight plummeting but worst of all, George didn’t look at you the same anymore; his eyes usually flickered on like Christmas lights - but when he looked at you during the worst time of your life, his eyes didn’t light up, they screamed at you, begging to break free.

Exactly one year later you gathered all the courage you had stored inside of you and it burst out like a balloon filled with too much air, you weren’t afraid of him anymore, you weren’t afraid of anyone, you wouldn’t be controlled anymore not by him or anyone, you would be living YOUR life the way YOU want; no matter what other people have to say or think.

Returning to Hogwarts without the presence of the monster, everyone's jaws dropped but not as big as the boy who always longed for you; George.

The lights that went out of those beautiful eyes of his lit up for the first time in so long but now they were as bright as the moon on a dark and cold winters night, illuminating the sky.

Cat-walking through the great hall to join the first great feast everyone turned their heads following you.

Your hair now long, thick and silky reached your lower back swaying with every move. You weren’t withering away anymore, your cheeks now filled with colour and there wasn’t a bruise in sight on your body. You smirked at the lads gaping at your skirt length but you took the compliment - you finally realised your worth and you wanted to flaunt it. You were the dove in a room full of crows.

Just a steel town girl on a Saturday night Lookin' for the fight of her life In the real-time world no one sees her at all They all say she's crazy

“Where's y/n?” George asked a few familiar faces sat at the Gryffindor table.

“Don’t know” his friend Lee Jordan replied, smirking “she went out last night to Hogsmeade all dressed up, she’s probably still partying!”

“She’s mental that one” Ron chipped in, earning a glare from George.

Speaking of the devil you strolled up to the table sitting down next to George, he could smell the booze on your breath but didn’t say anything.

“What's up guys?” you smiled brightly fighting sleep, drinking Harry’s pumpkin juice.

Fred gave George an amusing look “Where have you been all night?” he asked.

You had got yourself dolled up for a house party in Hogsmeade someone was throwing, you didn’t know who but you wanted to go wild and have fun after being unable to mutter a word to your friends or even step foot in that area for a year, you wanted to take the bull by its horns.

George watched you, star struck by your presence. Your long hair tied up in a high but messy pony tail, your tight fitting velvet emerald dress (more than enough to impress the most uptight Slytherins) outlining the best your body before it’s length ended at your mid thigh. You put on crimson red lipstick and blushed, spotting George taking you in through his reflection the mirror.

Arriving to the small house in Hogsmeade you shared drinks with the strangers, dancing and having a laugh playing the most ridiculous drinking games they learnt from Muggles at a pub in London. You crashed out on the sofa and awoke just before breakfast, you took off your high heels and ran as fast as you could to freshen yourself up before class.

“I went out” you breathed out, wiping the pumpkin juice from your lips with your sleeve “thanks Harry!” you smiled at him, putting the glass down and running off to your first class.

George sat there speechless, amazed at your transformation and happiness.

Locking rhythms to the beat of her heart Changing movement into light She has danced into the danger zone When the dancer becomes the dance

You took your new found freedom with you everywhere, you felt on top of the world and capable of anything. You were over achieving in all the classes you previously failed, causing Snape for the first time in his teaching career to award Gryffindor House points.

When you weren’t in class or studying in the library being followed by a swarm of fan boys and girls, you were always in Hogsmeade; attending house parties or going to the pub with a group of eager college boys.

George felt jealous of the attention you were giving these boys but he didn’t utter a word, no matter who you were with or what you were doing, as long as you were happy and safe that’s all that mattered to him.

You were upbeat and incredibly impulsive, professors often joking that if they poked you hard enough you would burst out into confetti stars.

Fred and George took advantage of your new found energy when it came to pulling pranks and inventing items for their business, you had managed to upstage them and somehow even outdo them on a handful of pranks, George felt amazed that after all this time someone was so close to stealing his and Fred’s thunder.

However, with all of this madness and adrenalin chasing you, strapped under your belt you started being followed by consequences. You were spinning out of control but you were happy, you were starting to get incredibly intoxicated on your freedom.

It can cut you like a knife, if the gift becomes the fire On a wire between will and what will be

Minding your business on the Quidditch pitch watching George practice, sporting your blackeye from the night before you heard a familiar screech yell out from below. “There's that bitch who snogged your lad last night!”

You went to yet another house party, stupid on your part as it was a Sunday and you were itching towards your exams. You noticed that these so called ‘fan girls’ you gained had turned nasty, since your flourishing they weren’t able to get dates.

You accidentally had everyone, both men and women wanting a piece of you; but a group of girls from Slytherin and Ravenclaw surprisingly fused together, vowing to bring you down.

You drank way too much with a college guy who had ginger hair, you thought it was George and you made a move on him - you believed he was single because that's what he told you; he lied.

His girlfriend, a Ravenclaw paid a girl in Slytherin to follow you, to see how you were able to gain such a following, she became furious when she realised no magic spell or potion had been used - people liked you for you.

Catching you kissing him gave her just what she needed to cause your fall from grace, storming into the pub she pulled you off him and punched you, you were too drunk and embarrassed to stand your ground then but now you were waiting.

“Oh fuck off will you!” You yelled down at them, you stood up from the stands and walked down, pushing past them.

The group of girls followed you, the Ravenclaw getting closer grabbed you by your hood, smacking you around the head repeatedly. “Don’t you ever go near him again!”

George could see the commotion and flew beside you and dismounting his broom “what the fuck is going on? Bore off!” he yelled at the girls, pulling you away from them.

“He told me he was single!” you screamed at her “and I thought he was someone else!”

“You dirty liar!” she screamed back, turning to George staring him down “she’s turned into what wrecked her in the first place, stay away from her!”

She's a maniac, maniac on the floor And she's dancing like she's never danced before She's a maniac, maniac on the floor And she's dancing like she's never danced before

“I’m telling the truth George, I promise.” You sighed laying back on his bed, waving your wand in the air.

George stared at you, your face now bruised more than the previous night. “I believe you but...” he sighed trying to find the best way to word what he wanted to say “you need to be careful, I don’t want you to keep getting hurt”

You closed your eyes trying to hide your tear filled eyes, the dorm rooms door swung open and Fred burst in excitedly “Y/N I need your help, wait until you see this!”

Your mood instantly lifting you bolted up and jumped out of bed, following Fred. George stayed still and rubbed his face with his hands, having no choice but to follow the two of you.

On the ice-blue line of insanity is a place most never see It's a hard-won place of mystery touch it, but can't hold it You work all your life for that Moment in time, it could come or pass you by It's a push-shove world, but there's always a chance If the hunger stays the night

“What do you mean I’m not right for the job?” you questioned the interviewer, his eyes focused on the paper in front of him “I want to see what that says!”

The academic part of your life came to a close, finishing with perfect grades you were job hunting - each and every time you were able to make an outstanding first impression and you were even hired on the spot. Within days and weeks before you started your new job you received letters of regret informing you that after second thoughts you weren't suitable for the job.

“It’s confidential information, I cannot do that.” The man replied firmly.

You shook your head at him “Not if it involves me” quickly snatching the paper from his desk, before he could retrieve it you read the recorded information about you that had been documented, breaking your heart.

You burst through the shop door and stormed upstairs to find your boyfriend George, your face red and hot, tears spilling down your tender cheeks.

“What's the matter sweetheart?” he asked upon your arrival, his face dropping at the sight of your distress.

“Those bitches lied!” you cried out “They’ve lied to everyone, they’ve ruined every possible chance I have at succeeding in life!”

George dropped his pen, putting a hold on his tax filing he got up out of his chair and brought you into his arms, he looked confused at your statement.

“I can’t get hired anywhere because those girls from Slytherin and Ravenclaw lied, they managed to get Rita Skeeter to write about me, contacting everywhere in the area I applied to, telling the owners that it would be irresponsible and a irreversible mistake if they were to hire me!” you were hyperventilating beyond control, choking on your tears “they’ve painted a picture of me that doesn’t exist, George! That I’m a threat, a danger to myself and others, making it out like my past defines me for who I am now!”

There's a cold kinetic heat, struggling, stretching for the beat Never stopping with her head against the wind

You stared at your paintings hanging on the wall at your local art show, ones of George on his broom, others of all the creatures Hagrid raised. After failing at being hireable, George encouraged you to find something you were passionate about, to run with it and earn money from it. So you took up painting and added a bit of magic to impress the muggles more than those with talent you believed you couldn’t compete against.

George smiled at you through the window and nodded as a rich muggle lady walked past, stopping in her tracks as she eyed up the painting of the Cornish pixies mid air showing off their mischievous grins.

“How extraordinary” she beamed up at your art, the pixies beady eyes twinkling at her. “How much?” she asked “my son will love this!”

You scratched the back of your head, forgetting that muggles didn’t have the same currency and you weren’t exactly the best with pounds and pennies.

“Uh-” you stuttered, until the lady cut you off, noticing your other paintings.

The one of George made her laugh and Buckbeak took her breath away, shaking her head in disbelief “I’ve never seen such magnificent works of art in my life... forget how much, I’ll buy them all!”

She's a maniac, maniac, I sure know And she's dancing like she's never danced before She's a maniac, maniac, I sure know And she's dancing like she's never danced before

Walking out of the art show you felt your heart skip beats, running towards George you jumped into his arms. “She bought the whole lot!” You squealed.

George spun you around in his arms, cheering for you with all his pride. “You’ve bloody done it, darling!”

The two of you celebrated with the rest of the Weasleys over family dinner at the burrow, Arthur fascinated by the rich muggles and what they spend their money on and Fred begging you to paint him for your next piece.

After finishing the celebrations George took you out for a night stroll under the stars, the two of you swinging your laced hands with every step. He stopped under the moon, it’s bright light beaming down on the two of you as if you were in the spotlight on a large stage.

Getting down on one knee George pulled out a small wooden box branded with Weasleys Wizard Wheezes on the front, you chuckled thinking he was going to pull out a magic ring to trap his and your fingers so you couldn’t part.

Upon opening the box George pulled out an incredibly sparkly and flawless amber ring which matched his beautiful hair, you realised that this wasn’t a new wacky invention or a perfectly plotted prank.

“Y/N, from the moment I first saw you on the Hogwarts Express I fell for you and over the years my love for you has only bloomed all the more... will you marry me?”

It can cut you like a knife, if the gift becomes the fire On a wire between will and what will be

You scowled down at the negative pregnancy test in your hands and threw it into the bin adding to the collection of negative tests you had accumulated over the years since your wedding night.

You fell to the floor and shook your head feeling frustrated and cheated, your husband George walked into the bathroom and frowned at you with sympathy knowing what the outcome was.

“I’m so sorry” you cried.

George sat down next to you and held you hand, kissing it softly. “We’re in this together Y/N, okay?”

You nodded and wiped your tears, letting out a shaky breath “yeah, we are.”

She's a maniac, maniac, I sure know (I sure know) And she's dancing like she's never danced before She's a maniac, maniac, I sure know And she's dancing like she's never danced before

You heard a massive thud above you, followed by a scream next door. Feeling annoyed you snapped your fingers, your paint brush and palette hovering in the air.

“Georgina, get down here right now!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, your husband George laughing behind you “don’t encourage her!” you scolded him.

Your daughter with curly ginger hair and a cheeky grin just like her fathers thundered down the stairs, pulling out an earphone.

“What?” she asked sheepishly, sending a look to her father causing him to laugh.

“All because your brother has moved out it doesn’t mean his room is your magic practice room!” you told her off “this is the third time this week you’ve frightened next door, you’ll get expelled from Hogwarts before you’ve even started!”

Your youngest of four put her hands up in defence “okay, okay, I’m sorry” she smirked, giving her dad a thumbs up before running back upstairs.

You shook your head but laughed, walking over to your husband who stood against the kitchen worktops with a brew in his hand. You hugged him and kissed his cheek. “I can’t believe this is my life” you muttered, pulling away and going back to painting your brother in law, Fred.

Maniac, maniac, I sure know And she's dancing like she's never danced before She's a maniac, maniac, I sure know (I sure know) And she's dancing like she's never danced before

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #HP #harry potter #hogwarts #Weasley #fred weasley #imagines #one shots #weasley x reader #weasley x you

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Text

Geralt and the Minotaur p6

Y’all im so fucking sorry this took so long. This part of the myth was tricky but I think I weaved it in okay? Don’t read me to filth? Please?

Warnings: swearing, unwanted advances, discussions of promises/consent, surprise! there’s a god!, otherwise pretty tame.

Fun Greek Fact: only the top few wealthiest families in Athens paid taxes to support the infrastructure and feed the poor and such. It was seen as a rite into higher society.

-we’re picking up right after the last part!

____________

They had to rush the doors and throw their whole weight into them to break the plank of wood securing them inside. With scrapes on their shoulders and adrenaline in their veins, they partially closed the doors and set the Minotaur’s head at the bottom of the steps, a clear message to the king.

Geralt led them back the way they came, scampering under open windows and sprinting down streets one by one. It must have taken longer than he’d realized to find the beast because by the time they reached the docks livestock was stirring and roosters were crowing.

There was only one problem.

“South docks?”

Triss lounged on the boarding plank like it was a throne, her toga barely considered decent.

Geralt cursed under his breath and took a step forward, “At least let the others pass. If you take issue with me, do not sentence them to death.”

She lunged forward, stepping so close their chests nearly touched, “My prize, I’m only here for you.”

Geralt grit his teeth and waved everyone onto their ship.

He made to snap at Jaskier and insist he follow them but Triss trapped his chin between her thumb and forefinger, “You promised. I thought heroes kept their promises.”

Geralt almost growled his response, “Would you consider words said under the fear of one’s life a true promise?”

Jaskier raised a finger, his voice full of indignant rage, “Technically-”

“Hush child.” Triss snapped, “We’re leaving.” She nodded at Jaskier to board the ship as she hooked two fingers through Geralt’s belt and started walking backwards up the plank, whispering as she went, “I don’t like being lied to.”

“I thought these were the south docks.” Geralt had never been a good liar and his luck had seemingly run out.

“I’m not stupid Geralt,” Triss sighed, “I know you’ve got some strange infatuation with Blue Eyes. But you’re to be king, so I hear. You’ll need someone to provide an heir, someone well versed in royalty and politics.”

Finally on the deck, Geralt sat on the edge of what had been their prison not two days ago and now felt not all too different, “Athens is a democracy. Your political knowledge isn’t applicable.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Geralt saw Jaskier watching them like a hawk. He absently chatted with one of the deck hands, now wearing Athenian colors, but his eyes never left Geralt.

Tris sat next to him, wrapping her arms around his and leaning on him heavily. It felt wholly underwhelming, nothing like when Jaskier had cuddled up to him in much the same fashion. He felt warm and safe and inviting, Triss just felt heavy.

“You still need an heir, and I still want you.” Her face said this was supposed to be a compliment, “Don’t you want to find out what you’ve been missing? Why staying pure is such a challenge?”

Geralt smirked, looking her dead in the eye as their boat drifted out of port, “No.”

“Oh, my prince. My pretty naive prince…” Triss toyed with the hem of his chiton, avoiding the bloodstained sections, “I could change your mind. Make you see the stars in broad dayli-”

Geralt jumped when he felt a hand press down on his shoulder and hot breath on his ear but an unfamiliar voice to accompany it, “Just who the fuck do you think you are?”

Before he could answer, Geralt was shoved forward, stumbling to keep from falling flat on his face. Triss shouted and a few crew members moved to intervene but with a flick of his wrist, the stranger froze them in their place. His eyes glowed gold and his toga almost sparkled it was so bright.

“Did you learn nothing from Minos? It doesn’t pay to cross the gods.” the man sneered.

Geralt felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up and he wanted to dive off the side of the boat, but that wouldn’t be very becoming of a young prince. Instead he stood there with a dumb look of confusion.

Triss yanked her arm away in a rage, “Dionysus! You take other lovers, why can't I?”

Geralt’s eyes bulged out of his head and he tried to hide his face behind his hair as he dropped to one knee, “I’m so sorry your grace, I had no idea.”

“Oh get up,” Dionysus scoffed before turning back to the princess, “Mortals live by a different set of rules, love.”

Jaskier piped up, hesitantly stepping forward, “I’m sorry, what am I missing here?”

“We are,” Triss rolled her eyes like a spoiled child caught with her hand in the jar of molasses, “what one could call betrothed.”

Geralt did his best to keep the hopeful smile off his face as he opened his mouth to speak but it was snapped shut with another wave of Dionysus’ hand.

“Please, child, save your breath. We’ll be going now.”

Geralt blinked once and they were gone. He blinked once more and Jaskier had flung his arms around his neck.

“Thank the gods! I’ll be sacrificing to him as long as I live.”

“Relieved?” Geralt chuckled, resting his hands on Jaskier’s hips.

Jaskier placed a quick peck to Geralt’s lips, “I thought this was going to end sooner than it had to.”

Geralt frowned and tilted his head, tightening his grip on Jaskier, “End? Why would it end?”

Jaskier blushed and smiled to hide the hurt in his eyes, “My sweet prince. I’m no fool. I come from a large farming family but we certainly don’t pay taxes. I don’t belong in your high society.”

“Nonsense.” Geralt insisted, moving to place his hand on Jaskier’s cheek but thinking better of it when he remembered the monster blood coating his palms. He settled for pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You belong where I am. If you want, for as long as you want.”

A dreamy sigh reminded them they had an audience, sending them into a fit of nervous giggles.

Jaskier played with the clasp at Geralt’s shoulder, “I’d love that.”

“Good.” Geralt hummed, drawing him close and resting his chin atop his hair.

“Mhm! But maybe, darling, maybe you should change? And wash off the monster bits sticking to you?” Jaskier suggested, making a point of picking at a piece of his chiton soaked in black blood.

“What would I change into?” Geralt asked, leaning closer to Jaskier’s ear, “I’m sure the crew wouldn’t appreciate me wandering the deck in the nude.”

Jaskier laughed, “I beg to diff-” he was cut off by a sweet kiss from Geralt before he was able to continue, a little breathless, “Then what did you stowe in the rope pile when you boarded?”

“Fuck!”, the realization hit Geralt harder than the minotaur and he immediately ran to the corner of the deck, digging through the coils of rope and oars.

“What-? Geralt!” Jaskier called after him.

“Sails!” Geralt shouted, spinning to the nearest crewmember, “There were sails here, what happened to them?”

__________

next part here!

tag list! I still have it! I promise!

@hailhailsatan @so--many--fandoms @the-blondey @patchwork-quilts @honeysuckletook @peach-colored-sun @moretomhardy @artisanbaguette @iamaqt314 @lady-laufeydottir @localgaycatastrophie @sleepy-theif @fandommagpie @ineffable-lasagna

#fuck i told yall i didn't abandon this one!#lmao #geralt and the minotaur #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #geraskier greek au #greek mythology au #the witcher #the witcher au #the witcher greek mythology au #the witcher greek mythology #greek gays #geraskier fic #geralt of rivia fic #jaskeir fic

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booknerdateen · 3 years

Text

My favorite lines/scenes from Six and Crows and Crooked Kingdom (Contains SPOILERS)

“would have liked to see that”

“would have liked to steal that”

“You wouldn’t waste the ammo”

“And he’d be dead halfway through forgive”

“It’s about sending a message. What’s the point of a dead guy with forg written on his chest?”

“Compromise. I’m sorry does the trick and uses fewer bullets.”

“Well, I’ve got a lager and a skillet of eggs waiting for me at the Kooperom, so I can’t be the one to die tonight”

“No mourners”

“No funerals”

Among them, it passed for “good luck”

“I like it when men beg, this isn’t the time for it”

“Greed is your god, Kaz”

“No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever”

One minute he made her blush and the next he made her want to commit murder

“Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat”

Matthias was dreaming again. Dreaming of her.

“Scheming face”

“Definitely”

What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?

Many boys will bring you flowers.

“You came back for me.”

“I protect my investments.”

“I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.”

“I’ll put it on your tab.”

If Pekka Rollins kills us, I’m going to get Wylan’s ghost

“Nina Zenik, as soon as I figure out where you’ve put my knives, we’re going to have words”

“Van Eck writes to Wylan every week, and Wylan doesn’t even open the letters.”

“What do they say?”

“You’re assuming I read then.”

“You didn’t?”

“Of course, I did.”

“What do you want then?”

You inej, you

“Saint, we’re actually doing this.”

“I’ve spent every minute of every miserable day wishing to be off that ship. So why do I suddenly miss it?’

“I’m going to pay someone to burn my kruge for me.”

Jesper looked mournfully at his guns. “Such potential waste.”

Every morning he complained that she was impossible to wake.

“It’s like trying to raise a corpse.”

“The dead request five more minutes.”

The whole Matthias telling Nina he likes her and it doesn’t want to

“If you two keep fighting, you’re going to get us all killed, and I have a lot more card games I need to lose.”

“Any other impossible feats you’d like us to accomplish?”

The barest smile flickered over Kaz’s lips. “I’ll make you a list.”

“Well, we’ve managed to get ourselves locked into the most secure prison in the world. We’re either geniuses or the dumbest son of bitches to ever breathe air.”

“And I’m already in jail, so don’t tempt me to commit homicide.”

“You’re cuter when you’re smart.”

Wylan’s cheeks went pink.

“Saints.”

“That bad?”

“No, you just have really ugly feet.”

Ugly feet that got you on this roof.”

“If any of you survive, make sure I have an open casket. The world deserves a few more moments with this face.”

Matthias the tulip

“Wylan, your thoughts have taken a very dark turn. I fear the Dregs may be a bad influence.”

Jesper not wanting to kill unconscious men. Wylan suggesting to wake them up to kill them.

“Just girls?”

“No. Not just girls.”

I. Should. Let. You. Die.

“Kaz, you creepy little genius, the plan worked. You got us a tank.”

“Let’s go.”

“Me?”

“No, the idiot behind you.”

Kaz threatening a little girl if she tells that he’ll murder her parents and the dogs

“It’s a chemical weevil. It doesn’t really have a name yet.”

“You’ve got to give it a name. How else will you call it to dinner?”

“That’s why we call him Wyaln Van Sunshine.”

Jesper telling the crows that the whole city wants kill them and not half the city

She thought of Jesper toying with his guns, Nina squeezing the life from a man with the flick of a wrist, Kaz picking a lock in his black gloves. Thugs. Thieves. Murderers. And all worth more than a thousand Jan Van Ecks.

“You know, Wylan, one of these days I’m going to stop underestimating you.”

“And I know that look, Kaz. Don’t you dare start those wheels spinning.”

Inej forehead smacking Van Eck

Kaz shoving Wylan against the wall threatening him

“Where do you think the money?” scene

“A chemical weevil. But Wylan still hasn’t named it. My vote is for the Wyvil.”

“That’s terrible.”

It’s brilliant. Just like you.”

“Do not lick Wyvil. Does someone want to write that down?”

“Are we that predictable?”

“Yes.”

“An explosion?”

“I suspect Van Eck will notice that.”

“A very small explosion?”

“You just want to blow something up.”

The crows discussing over how much their heads are worth according to the wanted posters

Kaz sneaking a drop of the Wyvil onto the floor and like “see you on the other side” as him and Wylan fall down.

Jesper Llewellyn Fahey

Wylan “reading” his father’s letter/will out loud embassing Van Eck about his assumptions

The crows putting the roses on Matthias’ chest

Inej threatening Pekka Rollins in his sleep

#booklr #bookish #bookworm #bookaddict #books #bookaholic #bookstagram #booklover #booknerd #book #book quotes #bookcommunity #six of crows #crooked kingdom

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thenorthernrecords · 2 years

Photo

“Mother, please. You can’t go into those woods!” Benjamin begged her as she walked towards the very woods that she was told her sister Slania had last been seen around.

“I’m going to find her myself.” Fay said in cool tone. She had tried to keep a low profile, convinced by her son that Slania would reappear. But after a while, she still had not reappeared. Fay had slipped away from Ben and asked a few guards the ongoings of the search party. To her shock, no search party had been organized. This made Fay angry, and she took it upon herself to handle the situation on her own.

But it seemed Ben was keen on not letting her do that, because he actually stopped right in front of her. She paused, glaring at her tall son.

“Move out of the way, Ben.” She said, her icy anger seeping through, and as it did, the winds picked up, sending a biting chill towards Ben. Ben closed his eyes, and shivered.

“I can’t let you, mother. It’s dangerous and I can’t have the two of you missing!” He pleaded.

“I said, move.” She replied coldly, and a gust of strong, cold wind knocked Ben unto his back. He grunted, and with her path cleared, she moved towards the woods once again, determined to save her sister. But then, she heard someone shout her name. She turned around and Jacob was running up to them.

“Wait! Hold on!” He called out, and Fay wondered if someone had tipped him off that she planned to search herself. She eyed Ben and his sheepish smile reveal who had indeed told Jacob her plans.

She crossed her arms, and glared at him as he finally caught up. “I was told you were here, but I couldnt find you.”

“I was busy lookin’ for Lani and helping Carolina with things here. Why don’t you follow me back? Carolina would love to have some family around right since we have to be away from the kids...” Jacob asked her, trying to catch his breath as he did.

Fay wanted to say that Carolina had plenty of family around, but then she remembered that Yuletide season was indeed upon them, and both Jacob and Carolina were away from their children due to the ongoings of Snow Mystic. Jacob’s request told her that the situation between Carolina and her blood family hadn’t been mended, or else they’d be spending Yuletide/Christmas with them...

She began to feel bad for Jacob and Carolina, as no parents should be away from their children like that, but due to the horrifiying fact that Slania had almost died before without her knowledge, she refused to give up her goal despite sympathizing with them.

“No, I have to find her, Jacob. These people won’t help, and you’ve got enough in your hands, so I’ll do it myself.” She told him firmly, and then, Jacob grabbed her wrist. She stared at him, and Jacob shrunk back a little as the wind began to pick up again.

“...I woke up today and I just... I have this feeling that she’s alright. I sent my crow to find her and I don’t know if this is him letting me know, but I feel it in my gut that she’s safe. I wouldn’t tell you this if I wasn’t sure.” Jacob said sincerely, looking her in the eye as she did. Fay was instantly reminded of her father, as he shared the same intense stare, and she looked away, yanking her wrist from him. Jacob sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Keiran also went to look for her too. If there’s anyone who can find her, it’s him.” Jacob said in a uncomfortable tone,

Fay frowned, and tried to remember where she had heard that name before. As she did, Ben stood up and approached her.

“He’s the man for the job, mother. He helped me back in Wexford when I was in a bind,” He revealed, which was news to her. When she gave him a look, her weakly smiled but pressed on, “Please. Let’s got to Carolina’s and Jacob’s tent. We don’t know what’s in those woods.”

Fay was usually not stubborn, not like that, but she was fueled by fear and guilt that ran deeply. Plus, despite Ben’s and Jacob’s assurances, she couldn’t just put her trust on a gut feeling, or a man she didn’t know. Feeling her anger begin to spin out of control, the winds suddenly surged once again and as both Jacob and Ben put their arms up to shield their faces from the biting cold, they were pushed back away from her. Before she could do anything else, however, a voice came from the woods.

“Fay?”

Fay recognized that voice. Her cold fury subsided right away, and the winds ceased as she turned around. There stood Slania, in one piece. A crow, Jacob’s crow, was perched contently on her shoulder. Her clothes had dried blood on them and dirt, but aside from a recovering black eye, Slania looked fine. Her face and arms were even clean. Approaching them with her was a good looking, incredibly tall man (he practically towered over Lani, who was already very tall herself), with an arm comfortably around her redheaded sister. Fay’s mind put two and two together, realizing that this was the Keiran Jacob and Ben had just mentioned. She looked back at Slania, and felt herself smile big and wide while her eyes filled in tears as she began to feel ovewhelmingly relieved.

Slania and Keiran stopped right in front of the three of them as Slania tilted her head, looking calm and tranquil as if she had just taken a nice stroll in a garden.

“Fay... what are you doing here?”

#fay #Jacob #benjamin #a christmas miracle sorta lmaooo

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jemej3m · 4 years

Text

Dare You

anon asked:

If your still doing prompts... What about if Neil and Andrew are friends and Neil figures out that he likes Andrew and asks his friends how to woo him and then Andrew has to deal with Neil's terrible attempts at wooing. But everything neils doing is the same thing that Andrews been doing but in his own way? Idk, the idea just won't leave me alone and I'd love to see how amazing you could write it. Love your writing besides, it always makes my day :)

also on ao3!!

Neil and Andrew had been friends for 5 years when they have their first kiss.

The context? Neil’s small-town friends had all found themselves at the same university. Obviously, they banded together. Obviously, there were parties. Neil’s not a party person himself, but he loved his eclectic family and wanted spend time with them whenever he could. He’d moved to Palmetto when he was 13 with his mother, and as the youngest of the group, watched as the rest of them moved on from middle school to high school, and then from high school to college.

But now they were all back together again.

Thus developed his (mild) enjoyment of Allison or Nicky’s chaotic fiascos, which were technically parties, just lacking any rhyme or reason.

Andrew wasn’t a party person either: in high school, he, Neil and Renee would have movie nights instead, waiting for the rest of them to stumble home in drunken stupors.

He still tagged along to these gatherings, though. Maybe because Neil and Renee were now commonly in attendance. Neil didn’t think that Andrew would come just for Neil, but he hadn’t worked out why Andrew had become so inclined to participate. Maybe because Aaron was there, and they were trying to patch things up with one another. Their mother’s accident had really put a rift between them.

“Are you playing?” Allison demanded. “Neil, you’re playing. Renee’s managed to convince Andrew to play, so you’re playing.”

“Fine,” Neil mused, mostly to appease the inebriated monster that Allison was. No attention was paid to him in these drinking games, mostly because he didn’t drink, but also because he didn’t do anything too unreserved.

“Great!” she cheered, slinging an arm around his shoulder and brought him to the circle. He automatically took his seat next to Andrew, and felt his friend lean closer.

Friend was a loose term. Neil and Andrew were almost attached at the hip: When Neil’s mom had died two years ago, Andrew snatched him away and got a spare mattress in his bedroom till Neil had enough money to afford rent somewhere. Andrew was the only one who knew every horrific detail of Neil’s violent childhood, and the only one who’d seen the scars left by his dead-beat dad. Neil was the only one who knew everything about Andrew, too.

“Spin the bottle, Allison?” Dan leered as the girl put an empty beer bottle in the centre of the circle. Everyone was there. “We’ve got family members here!” Aaron mimed a retching action as Nicky laughed, clapping loudly.

“It’s just to pick who has to do truth or dare,” Allison retorted, waving the bottle in Dan’s face. “You wanna go first, huh? I’ll pick out your dare for you, Wilds. A personal attribute!”

“No way,” Dan laughed, leaning back into Matt’s shoulder. The guy was half asleep: alcohol did that to him, sometimes.

“Fine, I’ll spin it,” Allison huffed. With a little too much vigour, she flicked the neck of the bottle, sending it spinning wildly.

And of course, it had to land on Neil.

“First of the night!” Nicky crowed.

“Neil’s just going to pick truth,” Allison complained. “And make us all sad.”

Neil grinned at her. “Not my fault you grew up in a guilded bubble.”

“Shut the fuck up. Choose!”

Neil hummed, cocking his head to the side.

“Don’t do something stupid,” Andrew warned under his breath.

“Dare,” Neil said.

“Here we go,” his best friend sighed.

“Fuck yeah,” Allison grinned. “What should we make you do, hm? We all know you can and will eat anything without even flinching, no clothes-off, no alcohol...”

“Maybe he should go try and steal something,” Kevin slurred. “He’s good at it. Fuckin’ hot-wired a car once, for the hell of it.”

“Fuck off, Kevin,” Neil managed, ignoring the incredulous looks that the others were giving him.

“When the hell did you manage that?” Dan demanded. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“He should kiss Andrew,” Matt mumbled, burrowing his face into the crook of Dan’s shoulder. No one heard him.

“We should see if he can jump from the dorm roof!”

“No,” Andrew said.

“He should shotgun three Caprisuns,”

“Too easy!”

“Fine, five!”

“He should kiss Andrew,” Matt repeated, sitting up and blinking the sleepiness away.

The circle grew quiet.

“Yeah,” Allison breathed, grinning wildly. She looked to Neil. “You’ve gotta kiss Andrew.”

Neil glanced at Andrew, whose gaze was hooded as he glared at the been in his hand.

“I’m not doing that if Andrew doesn’t want to,” Neil said.

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“See?” Allison said, gesturing wildly. “Pucker up, Josten.”

“Well, this isn’t how I expected this to go,” Neil muttered. Andrew looked up at him, something making his eyes sparkle. “Tonight, I mean.”

“Right,” Andrew said. “Well? Hurry up.”

Neil hadn’t kissed many people before. Andrew knew that all too well: he’d heard about all three of Neil’s dating disasters in meandering rants about expectations and Neil’s lack of interest in - well, anyone, really.

He was overthinking this. It was just a kiss.

“And no measly pecks, either!” Dan insisted.

Andrew didn’t care. It was just a kiss.

Neil felt all stiff and awkward, because he had no idea what he was doing, but it was fine, because Andrew was tilting his head and lifting up his hand to press his fingertips to Neil’s cheek, tilting up his chin a bit. Neil let him.

When Andrew drew back, all Neil could think was that his lips were so soft. So soft. Everything about the kiss had been feather light, which wasn’t like Andrew at all.

Neil learned new things about Andrew every day.

“Happy?” Andrew said, facing the circle once more. Allison was cheering as Nicky and Aaron gave each other all-knowing side eye: Dan was clapping, and Matt was looking right at Neil with his head tilted to the side. “Now: go pick on someone else.”

“Someone your own size, might you say?” Nicky teased. Andrew flipped him off.

It had been a nice kiss, Neil thought. He didn’t know Andrew could kiss like that.

“You with us, Neil?”

Neil glanced up and found everyone looking at him. “Yeah? Why?” He frowned. “Did it land on me again?” Did he have to kiss Andrew again? He didn’t want to: not in front of everyone, at least.

Wait, what?

“You’ve been spared for now,” Allison grinned. Neil flipped her off.

And that was Andrew and Neil’s first kiss.

Neil burst into Matt and Kevin’s dorm room - obviously, he and Andrew shared one, and Aaron was in the fancy dormitory for academic scholarship students - in a small frenzy.

“Hey,” he told Kevin, who was sitting on his bed minding his own business. “Fuck off.”

Kevin glared at him. “You realise this is my room?”

Matt took off his headphones, looking over his shoulder from the tiny desk he’d crammed in at the end of his bed. It was comedically small in comparison with his gargantuan frame.

“Please?” Neil begged. “I need to talk to Matt.”

“Why can’t I hear it?” Kevin demanded. “I’ve literally known you longer than anyone else. We used to watch each other shit in toddler potties, Neil.”

That was true. Still, Neil needed Matt, his not-childhood friend.

“Dude,” Matt said. “Neil and I are bros. Somethings are just bro to bro. You talk to Andrew about shit you don’t talk to Neil about, yeah? Y’all are like brothers. That’s different from being bros.”

“None of that made sense,” Kevin muttered, packing up his shit. He glared at Neil. “I’ll be in the common room. You’re making up for this by editing my thesis.”

“Looking forward to it,” Neil said dryly, ushering Kevin out the door and leaning against it, feeling a little breathless.

Matt jumped onto his bed, patting the spot next to him. “Come hither, child.”

“I hate it when you say that,” Neil complained, dutifully crossing the tiny room and curling up into a ball on the mattress next to him. Matt patted him on the shoulder gently, though it still managed to send shocks right to his fingers and toes. Matt was just a big guy.

“What’s this all about?” Matt pushed, when Neil stayed in a curled ball.

Neil’s head flopped back, thudding against the wall. He swallowed, staring at the ceiling.

“I like Andrew.”

“Well, that’s good news,” Matt laughed.

“No, Matt.” Neil glared towards the window. “I think I’m in love with Andrew.”

“Yes,” Matt said earnestly. “I know.”

Neil’s neck nearly snapped what with how fast he looked at Matt. “What?”

His friend snorted. “Dude, you’ve always been infatuated with him. We’re best friends, Neil. You and Kevin are best friends. Do you really want to go cuddling up with either of us, like you do with Andrew? Do you spend hours with either of us at a time, just talking? Do you dream about us? Have you told us everything about you?”

“How do you know I’ve done those things with Andrew?” Neil accused, even though he was completely right.

Matt shrugged. “That’s how I am with Dan.”

“We’ve cuddled,” Neil said weakly.

Matt slung his arm around Neil’s narrow shoulders. It was like wearing a blanket. “Hell yes, we have. But that’s not what I mean.”

“We don’t do that.”

“Head out of the gutter, bucko. Remember that photo Allison managed of the two of you? Asleep on the couch? You were literally asleep on Andrew’s chest: one of his legs was hooked over your hip. That’s some serious canoodling, bro.”

“You’ve analysed us that intensely,” Neil said flatly.

Matt snorted. “It’s kinda hard not to. You’re both all over each other. I’d say it’s sweet if it wasn’t, well, you and Andrew.”

“So if you knew I liked him,” Neil complained. “Why’d you dare me to kiss him? Now I’m aware of it, and I hate it!”

“That was kinda the point,” Matt admitted. “Why the hell do you hate it? Love is a good thing!”

“Need I remind you of my parents?”

Matt shoved him gently. “Don’t start pulling the parent card. Neil, you’ve loved Andrew for years. And - well, I can’t really read him, no one can - I think he likes you back.”

“He does not,” Neil insisted.

“He does!” Matt sung. “You know what you have to do now, Josten?”

“No,” Neil said, sullen.

“You’ve gotta woo him.”

“Here we go,” Neil mumbled.

Matt winked. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Andrew will be head over heels for you in no time.”

“So,” Neil said, sitting on his bed. Andrew was reading a book, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He only wore them in their room, even though everyone knew Aaron had reading glasses and thus Andrew would have to wear them too. He had his armbands off and a pair of knitted socks on. Neil had become so keenly aware over everything that constituted of Andrew recently: it was driving him up the wall.

Andrew looked at Neil from over his book. “What?”

Neil shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you want to go somewhere?”

Andrew glanced at his watch. “Now?”

Neil shrugged again.

“What’s this about?” Andrew asked, sitting up.

“Nothing!” Neil stressed. “Just thought it might be good to - get out?”

“It’s a Tuesday evening,” Andrew said flatly.

Neil deflated. “We don’t have to go.”

Andrew sighed. “Fine.” Neil perked up. “Where did you want to go?”

Neil hadn’t thought that far ahead. “David’s?”

“David’s,” Andrew repeated. “Neil, you don’t like diner food.”

“Well, now I do!” He really needed to stop the hiccups in his voice. Stuffing his feet into his shoes, he yanked on his coat and shoved his keys and phone into his pocket.

“Now I’m even more suspicious,” Andrew said, watching Neil’s erratic behaviour with mild amusement. “You’ve never willingly taken that phone with you unless I forcefully reminded you too.”

He needed it to text Matt. “We all learn and grow,” he said breezily, escaping out the door. “Hurry up, I want coffee!”

“It’s nearly fucking midnight,” Andrew growled.

He skipped ahead till he arrived at the dorm’s parking lot: Andrew’s was in the corner, where it couldn’t be scratched. After his mother’s death he’d used his portion of her life insurance to buy the thing, but it hadn’t got him more than a heap of junk. He’d spent a whole summer fixing it up: Neil had watched him from the corner of his garage, a little mesmerised.

Fuck, he liked Andrew so much. He could hardly contain it within himself.

He switched the radio to Andrew’s favourite channel as they drove to David’s, an old diner on the corner of campus. It was run by a grouchy old man by the name of David Wymack, hence the name. He served the only pancakes Andrew would speak well of, and sometimes Neil could withstand the fruit smoothies.

Andrew glanced over at Neil at the music choice - Neil almost always usually bickered with him about playing heavy rock when it got past 9 o’clock - but said nothing, continuing to drive.

There was almost no one in David’s when they arrived, even though he usually shut at one. Neil was relieved for that: he didn’t feel like anyone watching him as he failed miserably at wooing Andrew Minyard.

Andrew got his pancakes and Neil decided to try the blueberry smoothie, sans ice cream.

“What is wrong with you,” Andrew muttered.

It clearly wasn’t going well. Neil grimaced and shrugged. “Dunno.”

Andrew squinted at him. “Are you upset?”

“What? No!”

“Can you bozos stop wasting my time?” Wymack huffed.

“Fuck you too, old man,” Andrew said. Wymack flipped him off and proceeded to put an extra scoop of ice-cream onto Andrew’s plate. Their relationship was baffling, especially after Andrew worked the summer here with Renee.

They sat at a corner table, a little ceramic jug with plucked daisies plonked in the centre of the red-and-white chequered table cloth.

“You seem jittery,” Andrew said.

“I’m fine,” Neil managed. Andrew reached out with his hand under the table to stop Neil’s leg from bouncing. The heat from his palm was addictive. Neil made a strange squawking noise, and Andrew immediately withdrew his hand.

“You’re fine,” Andrew repeated.

“Yup,” Neil insisted. Andrew’s pancakes arrived, so Neil tried to distract himself from the ruffled blonde hair and pale eyelashes and the freckles on his nose, sipping at the smoothie. Neil didn’t know what to do with that information. It was quite unnerving.

They were done by half-past-twelve, when Andrew decided to get up and leave without warning. Neil - in a moment’s panic - took one of the daisies from the jug and hopped up after him.

Andrew was leaning against his car door, lighting up two cigarettes. Moonlight shone down, curling in his hair and curving across his jaw. Neil found himself a little star struck.

Andrew offered up the second cigarette and Neil took it from between his fingers with his lips, like he usually did. This time all he could notice was how close it put them, and the shape of Andrew’s lips. Now Neil knew what they felt like, too.

This is ridiculous, Neil thought.

“Why are you holding a flower?” Andrew asked.

Neil looked down to where the daisy rested in his palm. He brought it up and tucked it behind Andrew’s ear. The tips of Andrew’s ears went very pink: he had to be warm in that large sweater of his.

“Don’t know,” Neil answered truthfully, looking at where the daisy drooped down over the shell of Andrew’s ear.

“Okay,” Andrew managed, though his voice was a bit strained. What if he was allergic to daisies? No, that was ridiculous. Neil would know if he was allergic to daisies.

They finished their cigarettes in the quiet. Everything was so muddled. Neil just wanted it to go back to normal. And yet: he wanted to kiss Andrew.

Fucking hell, he thought.

“Back to the drawing board,” Neil announced, bursting into Matt’s dorm room again. Kevin wasn’t there, thankfully.

Matt arched his brow. “Huh?”

“Date and flowers didn’t work. What the hell do I do?”

His friend hummed. “What about gifts? Is there something you could give him that’s romantic?”

“He likes chocolate?” Neil hedged.

“Could work,” Matt acknowledged. “Or, you know, we could make him jealous.”

“Absolutely not,” Neil grimaced.

“Just a thought.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Neil groaned, sinking into a puddle on the floor.

The door opened as Kevin stepped through. He didn’t even pause, stepping right over where Neil had melted onto the floor.

“Don’t mind him,” Matt acknowledged.

Neil made an exasperated noise.

“Have you always been so dramatic?” Kevin acknowledged.

“Maybe you could recite a monologue to him,” Matt suggested.

Kevin frowned. “Who?”

Before Neil could shush him, Matt sung out “Andrew!” with a cheerful smile.

Kevin signed. “Fucking finally. Everyone’s been waiting years for the two of you to sort yourselves out.”

“What?” Neil sat up. “Are you serious?”

Kevin shrugged. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Neil groused.

“He’s trying to woo Andrew into liking him back,” Matt informed Kevin.

Kevin frowned. “Why don’t you just tell him that you like him?”

“Because that’s mortifying?”

“You’re such a horribly adjusted human being,” Kevin muttered.

“He’s kinda right,” Matt acknowledged. “I just kept asking Dan on dates till she accepted.”

“No,” Neil hoisted himself to his feet. “I’ll figure it out. It won’t have to come to that.” He glared at both of them. “Thanks for nothing. Neither of you know anything about relationships.”

“We are both in committed, loving, long-term partnerships,” Kevin pointed out.

“Love you too!” Matt called as Neil stomped out.

Neil eventually developed a checklist.

Spontaneous midnight date? Nope. Flowers? Definitely a no. Making him a mixtape? Not the right decade.

Accompanying him places definitely didn’t work: Neil was late to all his classes for a week. Cooking for two also didn’t work, seeing as the only thing Neil could cook was 2 Minute Noodles.

Chocolates was a moderate success, but it probably didn’t help the wooing cause. It didn’t help that they roomed together: Neil didn’t get much time to scheme, because neither of them were social butterflies, and their dorm room was their safe space.

The only thing he thought could’ve been counted a success was when they decided to rewatch the last two Harry Potter movies together: Andrew yanked Neil over to his bed and they nestled into the corner to watch the films from Andrew’s laptop. Neil was so consumed by the thought kiss him kiss him kiss him that he barely registered either of the films.

One month passed since Neil’s epiphany, then one and a half: It even got too the point that Neil jostled Andrew’s shoulder at another of Allison’s ‘parties’ and said “Remember the last time she made us participate?” to which Neil only received an odd look and stale silence.

He also tried to rig one of Allison’s silly games, giving Andrew a piece of paper that asked do you like someone? Andrew set the thing on fire with his lighter, and the dormitory nearly had to be evacuated.

Neil was beginning to lose hope.

“You upset, Neil?” Renee asked, dropping into the chair next to him. He was studying in the library, one of the few places he knew Andrew wouldn’t follow.

“Hi, Renee,” Neil said, sullen.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She twisted herself around to face him. “What’s up?”

“Can’t talk to you about it,” Neil mumbled, resting his head on his folded arms and glaring at the table.

“You know,” Renee said, slightly amused. “I overheard something about someone being interested in Andrew recently.”

Neil sat up. “You did? Who?” He’d fight them. Not that he was possessive, or jealous.

Renee laughed. “You, silly.”

Neil deflated. “Does everyone know? I feel like I was the last one to figure it out.”

Renee patted his shoulder gently. “Almost the last one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Andrew doesn’t know.”

“Good,” Neil huffed out. “That’d be embarrassing.”

Renee shook her head.

“He’s never going to like me back,” Neil mumbled. “I’ve been trying so hard, but he won’t notice.”

“He did mention you were acting odd, recently,” Renee acknowledged.

Neil huffed. “Yeah, well. There’s no point in keeping it up, is there? Not if nothing will happen.”

“You know,” she said. “I always found clarity in honesty.” With that, she winked and slid off her stool. “See you around, Neil.”

“Yeah,” Neil muttered. “See you.”

Neil dressed quickly in the shower stall and hooked his towel over his shoulder, carrying his small caddy back to his room. He was wearing old pyjamas: fire-engine truck flannels with one of Matt’s oversized (or normal sized, for him) hoodies that went all the way to his fingertips. He shook out his wet hair as he traversed from the bathroom back to his dorm room and shouldered his way in, the door unlocked. That meant Andrew was back.

And back, Andrew was: facing the wall, he was tugging off a turtleneck sweater and yanking on a t-shirt that Neil recognised as his: he’d already changed into grey sweats that were too long for him, hanging around the ankles.

Neil slowly put his soap back onto his little shelf, hanging his towel on a wall hook. Andrew glanced over his shoulder at him, acknowledging Neil’s presence, before going back to unpacking from his day and readying for bed.

Neil felt sucker-punched.

“Andrew?”

He glanced back again, brows furrowing at Neil’s strange tone. “What?”

When Neil couldn’t answer, he dropped what he was doing and came closer. His fingers curled in Neil’s collar, tugging him closer.

“You’re pale as shit,” he commented. “Are you going to collapse?”

“I’m already falling,” Neil joked weakly.

“What?”

Andrew stepped back. Dammit, Neil thought. “What the hell is going on, Neil? You’ve been acting fucking weird for ages, now.”

“I really like you,” Neil breathed out.

Andrew froze.

“I wasn’t meant to say that,” Neil bit out, folding his arms over his chest. “But I can’t get over it. Ever since we kissed I’ve been kinda losing my mind, and everyone’s told me I’ve liked you for years -”

“Shut up,” Andrew said fiercely, stomping right up into Neil’s space, crowding him against the door.

“Um,” Neil mumbled, blinking.

“You’re the worst,” Andrew hissed. “You’ve been doing all this shit because you like me? I thought you were working up to telling me you were leaving!”

“What?” Neil echoed.

“Shut up,” Andrew complained. “You’re the fucking worst. I hate you.”

And then he kissed him. Andrew kissed Neil, that is. It was definitely one of the best moments of Neil’s life, which wasn’t saying much, considering his track record. Still, Neil’s fingers spread out across Andrew’s shoulder blades as his hands grasped Neil’s jaw, kissing him for real, this time.

Neil had been right: it was definitely better when there was no one else watching.

Andrew’s shoulders were hunched over when he fell back, pressing his forehead to Neil’s shoulder.

“You like me?” Neil asked, voice higher and breathier than he thought he could manage. “Since when?”

“I hate you,” Andrew retorted. Then, quieter, he said: “Since forever.”

Neil’s hands pressed him closer: this wasn’t unfamiliar, the proximity, Andrew’s touch, breath wafting over bare skin. But the warmth encompassing it made sense now.

“Okay,” he said. And then: “Me too.”

“Were you trying to woo me with 2 Minute Noodles?” Andrew inquired.

“No,” Neil said sheepishly.

Andrew shook his head, tilting Neil’s head down for another kiss. Then he signed against Neil’s lips. “I hate you. So much.”

Neil grinned.

HEEHEEE

#wow #nice prompt anon!#that was fun #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #all for the game #no exy au #college au #friends to lovers #truth or dare #andrew the whole time: im going to pretend that hes doing this because he likes me and im going to enjoy it #the foxes #matt boyd #an honorary mention #the foxhole court #jem writes

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halo-jpeg · 3 years

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Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 8

WARNING. HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Richie watched as the sun sank steadily towards the horizon, lighting the sky red, orange, yellow, begging the clock to tick just a bit quicker so he could be free from his job. Britney and Mason, douchebag 1 and douchebag 2, were chattering away like hormone-driven starlings right behind him rather than wiping down the counters like they probably should have been. It was 30 minutes until his shift was up and the flow of customers had more than ebbed by now. Normally, Richie wouldn't want his shift to ever end; normally meant he had Bev or Ben at his side to keep him from drowning himself in the backroom sink. Tonight, neither were here, so he was stuck with the two preppy assholes he was so desperately trying to tune out. On any other occasion the music leaking from the tinny speakers would have been enough to get him through the day, but tonight things were different and the radio was instead tuned to bark out the score of some sports game Richie couldn't care less about but had the one or two patrons (who were already served and seated) tilting one ears towards the sound in interest. If given the chance Richie would have been just fine talking with Britney and Mason; he didn't like them, not really, but his big mouth was begging to run after almost a straight 45 minutes of near-silence and professionalism, and the problem was that they didn't seem too fond of talking to him.

And so, Richie simply stood. And waited. And grew more and more bored out of his mind. His fingers began to drum against his chin which was rested on the palm of his left hand which was- in turn- propped up by his elbow on the slightly-sticky surface of the counter. He fought the urge to tap his foot and he fought the urge to hum or dance or bop his head all because he didn't think he could stand knowing the other two would judge him for it. Judgement wasn't often something that bothered him but the memories of last night's talk with Beverly kept trying to pop up into his brain. Yes, that was another reason he was desperate for something to do- Richie just couldn't stop thinking about that talk. The door to the cafe popped open and, golly, it was Richie's lucky day- in stepped one bite-sized brunette with a tentative scowl on his face full of freckles. Just like that, Richie perked up again, his smile splitting his face right in two and his stomach beginning a circus performance consisting of backflips and pirouettes.

"Well, wouldja lookit that!" Snapping his fingers, Richie leaned forwards and across the counter to greet Eddie with his bright eyes, "Spaghetti-man, welcome! Just in time, I was tempted to throw myself into one of the ovens!" Eddie's scowl vanished and instead came a confused little grin that looked pretty goofy and melted away the last of any problems the world had to face.

"Christ, Rich, that's a little dramatic," Eddie pulled up to the counter and began to say something else but, well, Richie was a little distracted taking in the sight of him alone. It had been nearly 24 hours since they'd interacted and, after his little talk with Bev, Richie couldn't really get Eddie out of his mind. Fitted in a fluffy coral-toned knitted sweater and a pair of black jeans, he was looking adorable. Imagining Eddie with some accessory like a bracelet or black nails was even cuter- suddenly, Richie felt very much like Bev said she did whenever she went digging through his wardrobe. Eddie quirked a brow and snapped Richie right out of his thoughts.

"Sorry? What was that? My head's still a lil' out of it tonight," He straightened his back, blinking his scattered thoughts away and cracking his knuckles as if he were being thrown into a cage match, "Can I get you something to drink? To eat? A seat at the bar, maybe? I could use someone to talk to, I feel like I'm going crazy around here," As he said 'crazy' Richie spun a finger around his temple, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

"I actually just came by to say hello, since... y'know. The party and... and all that shit. We had a deal, didn't we?" Eddie took up Richie's offer for a barstool, leaping up onto it and folding his hands on the counter. He glared down at the tabletop as he spoke, bashful. It warmed Richie's heart and he smiled even wider, clasping his hands and holding them up to the side of his face; his eyelashes battered wildly and then he was the Southern Belle.

"Well, my oh my, ain't you a doll? Stoppin' by just to get a glance at lil' ole' me?" With another roll of his eyes (that seemed to be an Eddie Kaspbrak trademark) Eddie finally looked up again and rested his cheek on one hand.

"I regret it now, Trashmouth. You're gonna make my ears bleed." Laughing, Richie spun on his heel, briefly catching Britney and Mason's gazes and then went straight for the cups to whip up a signature drink for his friend, even if it was against company policy both to create anything original and to give out anything without it being paid for. Who gives a shit, Richie thinks to himself, and gets right to it.

"How's a mocha sound, Eddie Spaghetti?"

"It's- It's fine, but how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? Especially not with, like-" Eddie didn't need to finish his sentence, nor did Richie have to actually see him to know he was passing discreet glances at the two coworkers most likely listening in. Eddie was embarrassed about his silly little nickname. Challenge accepted- Richie had plenty of those. Flipping switches, tapping buttons, spinning around the kitchen with practiced ease, Richie pumped out a perfect dark chocolate mocha with steamed vanilla milk and caramel sauce drizzled artistically across the mountain of whipped cream on the top. It was a masterpiece- no surprise there.

"And here you are, Eduardo." the cup was set down and Eddie gave Richie an awkward, thankful smile. "Enjoy it- and here, dip one of these in it," Sliding open one side of the bakery treats display case Richie pulled out a slice of banana bread, "It's fantastic. Like, seriously, Eds. Ten out of fucking ten."

"When did your shift start today? I didn't know you worked," Eddie's cheeks flushed a soft red thanks to his own curiosity and he hid it with a sip from his drink. Richie shrugged,

"Nine. I was exhausted. Had to steal a coffee or two throughout the course of the day like the rebel I am." Richie reached up, popping the collar of today's brightly coloured shirt (pink, blue, yellow, purple, an amalgamation of triangles and circles and squares) and hunching his shoulders in, grimacing dramatically and sauntering back and forth like a biker dude who smoked a pack of cigarettes a day and loved the road more than anything else, "I run 'gainst the law, dawg," Eddie cracked a toothy smile and let out a dancing chuckle, "I rob gas 'tations and pick pockets for a livin'," Richie reached a hand up and began to fuss with his hair in an attempt to transform it into an impromptu mullet. Bringing the attention towards his curls Eddie's face screwed up but his smile still lingered.

"You need a fuckin' haircut, dude, like- wow. It's like a whole mop, Richie," And then Eddie's eyes grew wide and he recoiled, "Did you make my drink with that mane exposed? What if- what if you got your stupid hair in it? You know you're committing a guideline 37 health code violation? It's literally against the law not to wear a hair net, you know. And did you wash your hands?" Richie flipped his collar back down as Eddie spoke, letting out a huff and stumbling over to the sink to jam his hands under the faucet. "I heard people's hands carry up to almost five million different kinds of bacteria. You'd better not be putting that into people's-" Richie's hands now soaking wet, he lifted them and flicked them violently in Eddie's direction. The shorter boy cut himself off and let out a startled cry as he was assaulted by these droplets of water, half-jumping-half-falling out of his chair to scramble out of range. "You asshole! This sweater is a gift from my mom you know, and it could get damaged or-" Someone in the shop barked out a hissing 'shhh!' and Eddie went silent, his face bright red.

"The patrons request silence, my lo- friend, jeezly-crow," Richie dried his hands on the towel just near the sink, acting like he hadn't almost called Eddie 'my love' (he only didn't say it because of his coworkers and Eddie's pride) and returned to standing across from him. As soon as he was near enough Eddie delivered a half-assed punch to his forearm that was more teasing than actually harmful.

"That was quite the show," Britney, for once in her life, regarded Richie with a glitter of amusement in her eyes, and then glanced over at Eddie who was now smiling sheepishly and clearly dreading meeting a new person. Britney stuck out a hand, "Nice to meet you... Eduardo, was it?"

"Ah- Eddie, actually, my name is Eddie- Richie is just... just stupid sometimes, sorry," Rapidly, Eddie wiped his hands on the front of his shirt and took Britney's hesitantly within his own. Only Richie noticed the way his brows flicked a little closer together- Eddie was uncomfortable. That much was obvious.

"It's part of my charm, isn't-"

"Oh my God, I know, right? He's such a goofball!" With a horribly dopey grin, Britney pushed at Richie's shoulder and let out a high-pitched titter, "Imagine having to work with him every day!" Both boys let out an awkward chuckle, sharing a glance that said a multitude of different things; Who the hell is this chick? and Well she's just a little rude. and Can she maybe leave us alone? and many, many other things as well. "So, Eds- can I call you that?-" Britney didn't give him a chance to protest even though he wanted to, "How long have you and Richard been friends? How'd you meet him?" Britney leaned in just beside Richie, basically elbow to elbow as she crossed her arms and leaned into them to- oh- everything clicks together just like that, just as Britney uses her arms to push her chest higher. She was trying (and, well, failing, frankly) to flirt with Eddie. It seems that the asthmatic has yet to notice.

"Well, I... Not long, we just met a little over a week ago, I guess. It's actually kind of funny we-"

"Only a week?" Britney batted her lashes and Richie debated on telling her that her interrupting was not a good flirting technique, "But you two seem so close already! Gosh, I'd have guessed you two were high school friends at least!"

"Nope," Richie interjected before she could continue, "Just new friends. He's great, I'm great- that makes double great- Anyhow, Britney, we should let him enjoy his drink shouldn't-"

"Quite the mouth on him, huh?" Somehow, impossibly, Richie had failed to get her attention. Demanding all eyes on him was his specialty, but it was as if Britney had garnered some sort of tunnel vision, like a race horse with blinders perched on either side of it's head. Flirt racing. Place your bets. Richie felt a flame of jealousy and immediately squashed it down, feeling like some bitchy schoolgirl. "Chatter chatter chatter, all day long. How do you deal with it?"

"I don't, usually," Eddie was fiddling with the hem of one sleeve, his cheeks puffed out lightly in irritation. Who knew one man could have so much patience. "I... Well, I kind of like the chatter, actually. My own thoughts race so fast, it's cool to finally have someone who can keep up with them." Shrugging, Eddie turns to Richie and opens his mouth to speak, but, what a surprise, Britney beats him to it.

"I'm sure I could keep up with them, hon, if you gave me the chance," Britney let one eye fall down in a wink and Eddie gaped, frozen. His face drained of colour, a ghastly white that highlighted each and every one of his freckles- then it flooded red and he gripped the sides of the counter, looking at Richie again but this time as a silent plea, a save me oh my God- "What's your number?" She smiled, her rose red lips curling up in a way that could only be described as evil, "Or I can give you mine. I'd like to get to know you better." One part of Richie wanted to let this play out just because it was such a wonderful opportunity to watch Eddie flounder. The other part, the moral part, was screaming at him to intervene.

"Oh- I, I uh- I'm so-sorry I don't-" Eddie's tongue was tied. He swallowed hard and shook his head, his breath beginning to come in hitches, "I- I'm not interested I'm s-sorry if you got the- the wrong idea or-"

"Oh, come on, pretty please?" Britney leaned in closer and Eddie leaned away. "With a cherry on top? I promise it'll be fun-"

"Fuck off, Brit, he said no," Richie tried to keep his tone level, knowing that if he didn't his jealousy would show, but it seems he wasn't firm enough and that Britney didn't quite get the message. Eddie was still shaking his head, patting at his pockets as if searching for something, something to get him out of this more than awkward situation and turning up empty handed.

"We can maybe go to dinner tomorrow night or something like that, I'm a pretty fun girl when you get to-"

"Britney, that's enough!" Slamming one hand down on the countertop and raising his voice, all eyes turned to him- even those of the patrons, though this time no one hissed out a shush. After a beat of silence, Richie continued with a calmer tone, "You're clearly making him uncomfortable, I think you should just get to wiping down the counters or something so we can start closing up," Someone behind Richie scoffed; Mason. His other coworker. Rounding on him, Richie crossed his arms, trying to look somewhat intimidating in the face of this super-jock. "What's your problem, huh?"

"Well, I just think your little friend there's really makin' a mistake," Mason shifted his weight onto one foot, peering around Richie and staring the poor flustered Eds straight in the eye, "She really is a great chick, and... Well, you look like you could use a ride like her." Eddie's jaw dropped and his face went redder. He looked as if he were about to pass out, and Richie was stunned all the same.

"Jesus Christ, man, you can't just say that! What the hell's wrong with you?" Richie took a step forwards, glaring even harder but Mason wasn't deterred, wasn't afraid, was still dead set on either picking on Eddie or maybe actually attempting to give some sort of skewed advice.

"She'll do nearly anything you want if you ask nice," Britney was smiling though she looked a little stunned herself by this show of boldness, "And it seems she likes you, too. You're her type- short, thin, kinda... well, kinda girly to be honest," Eddie stared down at the tabletop, fighting to control his erratic breathing and seeming to have given up on patting his pockets for- oh shit, his inhaler. Was Eddie having an asthma attack?

"Mason, you fucking idiot, give it a rest. Eddie isn't interested. Leave him the fuck alone!" Richie was growing irritated- something about Mason felt off today. Usually the boy didn't outright pick on other people, he was always at least subtle about it.

"Oh, shit-" Mason let out a little chuckle, and stepped around Richie to approach the counter, "Unless- wait, unless you're not into her?" Richie was so close to slamming a fist across Mason's stupid face. After years of not understanding why everyone called his own face punchable, Richie finally got it. Some people just looked like good boxing practice.

"No fucking shit Sherlock of course he isn't into-"

"Unless you're some sort of fairy?"

Oh, the silence that followed this statement was suffocating. It was as if a thick blanket of quiet had throttled the room; Eddie's hitching breaths had stopped- in fact, so had his breathing altogether. His eyes had hollowed out, his face had lost all colour for good this time, and his shoulders had jumped up to his ears. Britney's mouth was hanging open, her eyes wide, breath stolen away in a more figurative sense. Richie was entirely and utterly shocked. He had known Mason wasn't the ideal fella. He cheated on girlfriends and drank too much and stole things, but this- this was... more than Richie had expected. It took a lot for Richie to dislike someone and he disliked both him and sort of Britney for quite the big book of reasons; but downright homophobia was not in his book until today.

"What. The fuck." Richie's voice had gone low, dangerously low. Mason turned to face him instead, his eyes dancing with quite the colorful array of emotions yet somehow appearing haunted, dead, all at the same time. If Richie had to get all poetic and describe it he'd say those eyes were reminiscent of an ocean- chaotic in the crashing of the waves, and yet endlessly empty. He was smiling wide. Proud. Like a shark. Eddie was still silent.

"Maybe I've got things wrong, maybe that was wrong," Mason held his hands up defensively, and Richie made the mistake of letting him continue, "Maybe... Well maybe he's not a fairy." A pause, blood thrumming loudly in his ears, "Maybe you are, Tozier. Maybe you're the little fag-"

"Shut up, Mason. Just shut the hell up." Mason leaned in, arms crossed, smile smug,

"You know, as sick as you are, it doesn't even surprise me." From Richie's right there was a gasp, a choked sound reminiscent of some form of words.

"Shut your fucking mouth or I swear to God-"

"I probably should have realized sooner, to be entirely honest. I mean, your hair, your clothes, your stupid nails and your stupider voices-"

"Richie- Richie I-" Richie's head was spinning with red hot rage. His hands were balled into white-knuckled fists, his teeth gritted tightly.

"You don't know a single thing about me you asshole,"

"I guess it's possible both you and your friend here mingle with that crowd, huh? Maybe the- Oh Jesus, maybe the reason you're so defensive is because the two of you are, like, boning or-" And, that was the final fucking straw. Richie didn't register his hands flying out to shove, hard, at Mason's chest until the boy was stumbling backwards, right over Britney taking them both to the ground. Richie was taller than Mason. Mason was heavier than Richie. With the right momentum, the right force and angle, he could- and did- send Mason almost flying.

"You're a fucking pig, you know that? Jesus- and to think I might actually, one day, maybe be able to tolerate your obnoxious ass here at work?"

"Rich- I c-can't-"

"Wow, I was naïve! Do you have a single scrap of human decency in that tiny frocking brain of yours or are you only powered by fucking and alcohol?"

"R-Richie! I-"

"Well guess fucking what, you dog? I've got quite the gift for-"

"Richie!!" Just as Richie was about to spit right onto Mason's stupid face Eddie dragged him out of his furious haze with a choking wheeze. His head snapped right, gluing onto Eddie's trembling form; one hand was grasping at his throat, the other supporting him on the countertop, shaky, pale. His face was as white as a sheet and he looked positively awful with his mouth open wide and his chest heaving painfully up and down. "Rich- I- I-I-I c-ca-can't breathe I-"

"Shit, Eds, I'm so sorry," Richie didn't waste a second in hopping over the counter, tearing off his work apron and tossing it to the floor, discarding his anger with it, "Come on, let's go, let's get you some fresh air okay? We can hurry to your place and get your inhaler, yeah?" Despite the hate, the disgust, Richie couldn't care less about how he must have looked as he took Eddie's hand and began to drag him to the door, half-drunken mocha and quarter of banana bread left for the other two to clean up. On their way out Richie was almost certain he heard one last snide comment, some slur, but his only focus right now was Eddie and the way he was sucking in rasping breaths like a drowning man. Rich shoved the door open with one shoulder, holding it ajar and letting Eddie pass by, resting a hand on his back as he did so and beginning to steer him down the sidewalk in no particular direction. "Where's your house? What's your address? Should I call Bill or Stan or- We have to get you to your inhaler, don't we?" Cowering like a hurt puppy, Eddie shrunk into Richie's side, still gripping and clawing and gasping. "W-What do I do where do I go what-"

"No-" Eddie forced the words out through gritted teeth, shaking his head and holding up a single finger- just give me a minute. The two came to a halt underneath the golden glow of a streetlamp just recently lit. The sky was a dark purple now, growing into blue.

"Eddie, don't you need you inhaler?" He shook his head again, and Richie screwed his brows together, "But your asthma, we can't risk it we should just-"

"NO, Rich- Just-" Eddie gasped, his eyes squeezing shut, "Just give me a- a fucking minute!" Richie shrunk away, pulling his arms to his chest and taking a tentative step back. Eddie turned, hiding his face, and continued to sputter, refusing Richie's help and planting one hand over his eyes and forehead. A minute passed- Richie tried to suggest once more that the inhaler was the safest option. Eddie denied it with another string of breaths and curses. At last, an agonizing three minutes later, the rise and fall of Eddie's chest grew steadier.

"Are... Are you sure you're alright? I... I don't know how asthma works but I don't think ignoring it is healthy." Risking being yelled at again Richie stepped forwards and placed a soft hand on Eddie's frail shoulder. For one quick moment those big brown eyes stared up at him and then they flicked away, down to their shoes instead. The smaller boy's ears burned red with shame.

"I don't-" Eddie scoffed, "I don't fucking- I don't fucking have asthma okay? I'm fine. I just- need to- calm the hell down."

"You- what? You don't have asthma? Then what was all that stuff at the party-"

"It was nothing, okay? It was just my stupid brain being all messed up! It's not asthma, jackass, so just- let it go, please. Jesus," Eddie shook off Richie's hand and took a few steps back, one hand rising to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He started to pace. "I can't believe that guy, what an asshole! And that girl, I just-" He cried out incoherently, too frustrated to piece together another phrase, and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Eddie, I really am. I don't know what got into them- Mason especially, he isn't usually that bad and I... Well, that wasn't cool. Something was wrong about him tonight and- fuck," Richie brought his hands up to his face, underneath his glasses to scrub it vigorously, "I don't know, man, I'm so sorry." When Richie's hands fell again Eddie was looking at him, one hand on his hip, the other pressed against his chest, concerned. A pause.

"Are you okay?"

"What...? Of course I am, I'm not the one who almost choked on-"

"Then what the fuck did you think you were doing in there?" Eddie surged forwards and, this time, pushed Richie with both hands, though the outcome was very different and Richie hardly budged.

"Woah woah Eds what-"

"He could have hit you! Are you stupid or something? That guy would have had your fucking neck snapped before you could even do anything about it and you were just going to let it happen because he said some nasty shit to me?" Again, Eddie thumped a fist into Richie's chest, and then another.

"Of course Eddie he can't just-"

"People have said that shit to me all my life, Richie, you don't have to go risking your stupid neck because of it!" This time Richie caught Eddie by the wrist before his shove could connect, and then caught the other hand right after, holding them tight, "Let me go, Richie I can't deal with you being like this right now it's like you're not even listening to me and-"

"Eddie, calm down you're gonna throw yourself into another fit!"

"I'm okay, asshole, I'm not gonna break down and die right here and now because I'm angry at you! I-I get angry all the time I'm not some child- I-" Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth, and then he spat out the words coated in acid, "You don't get to act all 'night in shining armor' just because some airheaded asshole wants to tell me what's good for me! I can take care of myself and I fucking hate it when people treat me like some stupid kid!" Eddie was gasping again, though this time he kept his mouth shut tight, trying to hide that he was struggling. He looked furious and terrified and hurt, a trio of emotion that Richie never wanted to see on his face again. Richie let out a sigh, closing his eyes and letting go of Eddie's wrists. As soon as he did Eddie crossed his arms and took a step back, averting his gaze. The tips of his ears were burning brighter.

"I... Eddie, I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to- to belittle you or talk down to you or anything like that. I just saw that you were getting badmouthed and I acted before I could really think."

"That doesn't surprise me, Trashmouth, you seem to be a little fucking impulsive." His voice strained, it was evident that Eddie was trying to reign in his temper, his 'asthma' already calming down once more. "Just... just please let me handle myself in the future. I can do it, I swear,"

"Yeah, I... I know you can. You're," Richie chuckled, and punched Eddie weakly, tentatively in the shoulder, "You're all sorts of spunk in one tiny package," Allowing himself to grin just for a split second Eddie slapped offense onto his face and wore a pout that would better fit a toddler.

"Are you calling me short? That's real low, Rich, that's just-"

"Low, is it? Yeah, I guess it is, huh?"

"Oh- fuck you!" Eddie rolled his eyes and turned away to conceal his smile as Richie let out his bright cackling, ripping through the silence of the night in a way that was more pleasant than Eddie thought possible. "God, you're just such an asshole, I hope you know that," He jabbed out an accusatory finger and Richie shot up his hands in mock surrender as if that finger were a gun.

"Don't shoot!" He hollered, stumbling a step back, "I have a wife and kids to get back to!" Eddie laughed, dropping his hand, and just barely stopped himself from asking if Richie had a husband to get back to instead. That was a can of worms for another day.

"I'm exhausted now thanks to you. You're like a baby, always whining and shit. Come on, Stan works and Bill's probably asleep by now. Wanna come watch a movie or something? I think we have a copy of Die Hard lying around." Eddie began to walk back in the direction of the cafe- Richie had taken the complete wrong path in their hasty escape- waving one hand for him to follow. Richie was now beaming, knowing just what to say to (hopefully) piss off Eddie even more.

"Oh, awesome! My favourite Christmas movie!" Eddie spun on him. Mission accomplished.

"What the fuck did you just say? Christmas movie?!"

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #stan uris #stanley uris #the losers club #it #it movie #it chapter 1 #it chapter one #it 2017 #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #it 2019

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