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buildmeafairytale · 4 years

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Rhavor Part 2: NSFW

A part two to my drider story for @acreepqueen, 18+ to read (NSFW). Hope you guys like it!

Part 1

You and Rhavor’s romance had been going on well, with more stolen moments and heated kisses taking place between the two of you. You’ve kept your relationship a secret, and while you would love nothing more than to hold his hand out in the open, you have to be tactful considering your positions. Your father is an understanding king and grants you many freedoms, but you are unsure how he would take this.

You had done little more than share kisses and sweet touches, the two of you trying to take things slowly. You wanted your relationship to not be a secret before things got more serious between the two of you, and this being your first experience with a man also played a part. He had also eluded that there were a few drider courting customs that he wished to take part in with you, and you could not contain your excitement. The romance of it all took your breath away.

It was a training day for the guards, and usually on these days you and your sisters would busy yourselves inside, sticking together a bit while under watch from guards not in that rotation. It was a training day for Rhavor, though, and you had yet to see him train. You convinced your sisters to come watch the guards, Anna needing much less convincing than Priscilla, but they indulged you nonetheless.

The air is crisp as winter is approaching, but when you get down to the training yards you spy Rhavor without clothing. He is using a staff and training with an orc, and you can not take your eyes off of his back, the muscles rippling with power. Anna leans over and whispers “you’re drooling” into your ear. She is probably correct. You sit and watch, Rhavor waving at you when he sees you. He spars with a few other guards, and trains some of the newer ones. You look across the courtyard and see maids whispering, their faces red and giggling with their eyes trained on your guard. You are not one to get angry or jealous, but you’ve never had someone worth getting jealous over. Or possessive, maybe, since Rhavor was absolutely yours. Realistically, the maids were your friends and would never knowingly make eyes at a man who was yours, but it wasn’t like they knew any better.

You were sitting with your lips pursed and an annoyed look on your face when Rhavor came to greet you and your sisters. “Princesses, how nice to see you all,” he greeted with a bow, ever so polite. You all greeted him, your greeting more stiff than you planned. His brows furrow, and you felt bad at his confusion. He had done nothing wrong, after all. It wasn’t his fault he was so handsome.

“Yes, well, lovely seeing you Rhavor, we must be off now! Please see that Vivie gets back to her room alright!” Anna said, giggling while leading Priscilla away. You tried to speak up and go with them, but they were too quick.

“Well, Vivie, I suppose I will take you back to your room and then retire to my chambers for a bath, if that’s alright.” He asked, tilting his head at the peeved look on your face. You never knew that you harbored such a monster inside, all you wanted to do was stake your claim on your guard and keep all others away. He was beautiful, and he was yours, damn it. You just nodded at him, knowing he would ask you what was upsetting you once in private.

Once you get through the door, you give him no time to ask. You pull him down towards you, and meet his lips with your own. You are more frantic and needy than ever before, your hands running down the planes of his chest. He recovers from his shock quickly, pulling you towards him and invading your mouth with his tongue. You moan loudly, glad no one else can hear you in the tower. You part with his mouth, only to move on to kissing down his cheek, his jaw, and his neck, where you proceed to give most attention to. You suck and nip at the skin, excitement running through your veins as he lets out a breathy noise that sounds very much like your name.

His lower set of hands come up to hold your backside, pulling you up and against him. You wrap your legs around his long waist, feeling positively tiny in his embrace. This only spurs you on, giving you more access to the expanse of skin at your disposal. Something primal has overtaken you, and you want to leave your marks on him, let everyone know he is taken. You pull back a bit to observe your marks, deep purple and running down his neck and shoulder, and a twinge of guilt comes with the massive satisfaction of seeing them. You go slower now, the urgency alleviated by the physical proof of your affection. You kiss and lick the discolored skin, gently now.

One of Rhavors hands that is buried in your hair brings your mouth back to his, where he nips at your lip before sucking away the sting. All of the sudden there is a knock at your door, and the both of you are forced away from one another. You quickly adjust yourself and throw a blanket at Rhavor for him to cover the numerous love bites left on him.

“Yes?” you call out in a cracking voice, hoping no one is going to barge in.

“I’m sorry to disturb you Princess Vivian, however your father has requested that you and your sisters, as well as your personal guards, accompany your father to an early tea in the garden.” A voice calls, one of the older butlers. You thank him, and are grateful he only had a message and did not actually come in. You look at Rhavor and start to giggle at his disheveled state; anyone would have immediately known what you were up to, if not from the hickeys but from the bulge in his abdomen he is trying to hide. He lets out a breathy laugh and comes towards you.

“I’m unsure what has come over you, my love, but I am not complaining,” he leans in to brush his smiling lips against your own. “I will be back as soon as I am... more decent, to escort you to your father.” One more kiss and he scuttles away, and you look in the mirror to see the damage.

Your lips are swollen and slightly bruised, your cheeks are red and your hair is a mess, and you feel a bit floaty as well. You quickly ran a brush through your hair and put on some lipstick, hoping that would look somewhat presentable. Rhavor knocked on your door again, and you two started for the gardens. He was clad in his armor, which luckily covered the majority of the marks you left. He held out an elbow for you, and you graciously slipped your arm into the nook of it. He smiled at you, still tilting his head as if to figure you out.

“What is the matter, lovely? You seem a bit wrapped up in thought.” He asks, and you look up at him.

“Are you...angry? That I left all those marks, I mean?” You whisper to him. He grins back at you, a teasing smile you have grown so fond of.

“Darling, I will proudly wear any mark you decide to bestow upon me. Any reminder of your affections is welcome.” He kisses your other hand, happy to be able to fluster you as he does.

“I just,” you cut yourself off, not wanting to seem jealous, but he asks you to continue. “All the maids were looking at you!” you blurt out quickly, nervous but not wanting to hide your feelings. “They were all looking at you, during training, and no one knows that we’re-whatever we are.” He looked at you a bit stunned, but his grin soon came back, wider and more devious than before. He looks around, making sure the two of you are alone. You were outside of the castle, not quite to the gardens, when he crowds you against a stone wall of the castle, looming over you.

“Oh, is my princess a bit possessive? I rather like that, Vivie,” he nuzzles at your neck, and your breath catches. “Nothing wrong with marking your territory princess. I would only hope you let me return the favor sometime, darling.” He places a gentle kiss behind your ear, and a squeak manages to escape you. He pulls away, composing himself and holding out his arm as if nothing ever took place. Your head is spinning and you hold onto him, not expecting such an enthusiastic response. You cannot help but think of him returning the favor. Thoughts of Rhavor, his dangerous looking mouthparts and teeth around your neck, him biting and sucking at your skin that would bloom so brightly under his ministrations. What would he be like, jealous of another? Would he react like you, staking his claim and seeing to it that you knew you were his? Your thighs clench together at this thought, and you feel a quaking in your lower abdomen.

You lose these thoughts for now, seeing your family and the guards waiting for your arrival. You are seated, and the captain of the guard stands by your father. He starts to speak and is informing you all about rumors of a plot against your father, involving you all. Your guards were originally appointed due to threats of royal kidnappings, and it seems that this was becoming more and more of a threat. They did not want to scare you, but were only concerned for your safety. More guards were to be stationed around the castle, and you tried to take it more seriously. It was hard, though. You had always known your father to be invincible, and the castle walls always felt so safe. Not only did that assuage your fears, but you knew anyone who wanted to get to you would first have to get through your drider, which would be no easy feat. You listened attentively anyway, and willed this to go on faster. The guards asked questions, and looked at castle blueprints while your father assured you all he would do everything in his power to keep you safe.

The meeting goes by slowly and Rhavor is solely focused on the task at hand. After the meeting, you all eat dinner there as well, which is less intense than the prior proceedings. Rhavor is still discussing new precautions with the guards, and you’re afraid you’re going to end up locked away in your tower at this rate.

It is decided that a second guard will be placed outside of your chambers at night, as well as a curfew instilled until the threat passes. You weren’t upset, considered you went to bed early most nights anyway. Your sisters were not as easy going about this but your father had assured them things should be back to normal soon enough.

Rhavor escorts you back to your room, and finally has the bath he has needed since training. When he comes back to your room, you are hoping for a continuation of the earlier events, but he seems genuinely worried about the rumored threat. You settle for reading a romance curled up in bed while he looks over castle blueprints some more at your table. The few times you tried to get his attention, you were met with a smirk. “Tease” you call him, muttering under your breath.

“Say something darling?” He asks, and you shake your head, giggling at him.

You fall asleep with him like that, his presence soothing you.

Days pass and precautions are taken, but not nearly enough.

You shoot up from your bed as you hear a loud noise outside your door. You hear a yell, and you quickly realize there is no other way out of your tower without going towards the yell. You are still half asleep, but your heart is racing and the adrenaline is taking hold. You take a deep breath and scream as loud as you can. Rhavor will come running if he hears you, you hope. At the sound of your scream, though, three men break down your door.

“Shut up!” one yells, lunging for you. You are not deterred, and you keep screaming, trying to run out of his grasp. He misses, but one of the others does not, grabbing you and pointing a knife at your throat.

“If you’re trying to call you spider, he’s barricaded in his room. We aren’t stupid, little bitch, now stop screaming before I cut out your tongue.” He hisses this at you, spit flying in your face. You think you’re going to vomit, and now that you’ve quieted you hear it. Rhavor, downstairs, is barreling against his door. The man with the knife grins at you, his teeth yellow and rotting. “Don’t get your hopes up, he ain’t gettin out.” He twirls the tip of the knife along your collarbones, and you hear glass breaking downstairs.

“Sounds like her little guard is getting angry.” One of the other men comment in a sing-song voice, laughing at your obvious state of distress.

“How about we make him even angrier?” he asks, dipping the knife towards your cleavage. A scared noise comes out of you, and at that moment your tower window is thrown open. You can feel that it's Rhavor, and if you hadn’t the stiffening from the man in front of you would have been answer enough. You knee him and wrench away, running for Rhavor’s form.

In one fluid motion, he places you so that you are sitting on his thorax. He charges towards the men, throwing one into the wall, knocking him out cold. The next takes a hit from the butt of his scythe, crumpling to the ground. He has saved the one with the knife for last, and you don't want to watch what comes next. You bury your face in between his shoulder blades, and you hear Rhavor swing his scythe through the air. You gasp, but do not look. You hear footsteps going up the stairs, the sounds of more of the men coming for you.

“Hold on Vivian, we are going out the window.” He gives you no chance to respond, only climbs out of the tower window and descends, making a point to stay away from the window to his room as well, where you suspect the barricade has been removed and men will soon be entering. You have never been scared of heights, but this is a scenario that surpasses just a fear of heights. You are holding onto your guards back as he is free climbing a tower. You hear a whimpering noise, and it takes you much too long to realize that it’s coming from you. “Shhh my love, I would never let you fall, that is a promise. We are almost down, I am going to jump now and we are headed to the barracks to rouse the rest of the guard.”

“Jump?” you whimper, but before he can respond there is air rushing past you, and you feel him land, taking the impact of the fall but seeming fine. He takes off in a sprint, towards the barracks you presume, your face still hidden in his back. He rips the doors open, and is throwing out orders and briefing guards before you even process where you are. Everyone is moving quickly, and you realize you have now opened your eyes. Several orcs are already dressed in their armor, and running to the castle. You hope that they are finding your sisters, surely you would be the least important target to these people. You feel Rhavor’s hands on yours, before he is peeling you off of him and setting you on a bed on the barracks, wrapping you in one of the sheets there.

“Oh, I’m still in my nightdress,” you mumble, not really looking at anything in particular. Rhavor is looking at you and you see his mouth moving, but all you hear is blood rushing in your ears. You reach up and go to smooth the crease in his brow, humming to yourself. He is crouching before you, and you are unsure how long this goes on. There are other guards milling about, some being sent to other barracks and others checking for more intruders and reporting back.

You start to feel less like you’re underwater, and Rhavor’s words start to make more sense. It’s mostly nonsense, but comforting nonsense. “You are such a brave little princess, holding onto me so tightly. So glad you have such strong lungs darling, so glad you yelled for me. I will always protect you, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there faster. I should have killed him for laying his hands on you, I will do everything in my power to make sure that never happens again,” He goes on and on, and you feel your heart rate slow down. You have no idea how long you have been here, but suddenly your father, sister, and their personal guards file into the barracks, your father taking you in his arms. This is when the dam breaks and tears start to fall. He shushes you and rocks you back and forth, while your sisters hug you as well. Your father releases you, and you sit with your sisters. You hear him thank Rhavor for keeping you safe, and inform him that the men are being held in the dungeon, along with the several others that were coming into your room when you fled. They will be questioned and everyone involved will be taken in, that you have faith in.

Your sisters were not targeted, which you are glad to hear. You are unsure why they picked you, but your father told you they thought you would be less guarded due to being the youngest. Everyone is awake now, and unlikely to go back to sleep, so you all head back to the castle. Rhavor is still by your side, and if anyone notices you holding onto his hand, they don’t say anything. The maids fuss over you, making you your favorite foods and trying to comfort you while some of the butlers are cleaning your bedroom, erasing all traces of what happened. People also start to clear Rhavor’s room, but it is in much worse condition.

“Although some may think it indecent, there is plenty of room for another cot in Vivian’s room. After the events that took place tonight, I think it best for you to stay there with her, at least until your quarters are fixed.” Your father tells Rhavor, and he agrees, still frustrated with himself he was not there to protect you. You agree with your father, it is a good idea. You also know that once you are a bit recovered from the night's events, you will be enthused about sharing a room for very different reasons.

The hours go on and night makes way for day. You are exhausted, and your sisters pull you into Priscilla's room, where they tuck you in and sleep next to you. Four guards are stationed outside the door, and even though it is almost midday, you finally manage to get some sleep.

The days recovering from the attack, you and Rhavor cling to one another. He sleeps in your bed, the two of you rumpling up the extra cot every night to avoid suspicion. You feel so sneaky, but having him in your bed holding you is worth it. Both of you are still flustered, him more overprotective and shadow like than ever before. He never outright doesn’t let you do something, but he is very good at directing your attention to an activity he finds to be safer. If you want to walk the grounds or spend the day in the garden, he will often find a way to get you to stay in the library or walk with you inside of the castle instead, or setting up a picnic on the roof. It’s endearing and you know he is worried, but you’re starting to get a bit stir crazy. It comes to a head when you start getting a bit snippy at him. You don’t try to be, really, but you need space being nice about it hasn’t been working. After being a bit of a brat all morning, you pull Rhavor aside in the library.

You hold his hand and take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I know this is stressful for you, but I’m safe! And I’m going to go crazy stuck inside all day, so I’m going to the gardens, and you should take some time for yourself too. I’ll have another guard stick close if that makes you feel better, love, and I will see you before dinner.” You leave no room for an argument, and while he is sputtering a bit, you kiss him on the cheek and walk off. You are hoping he won’t be too peeved later, but odds are he will follow you at a distance anyway.

The time alone was nice and much needed, but after a few hours you were wishing for Rhavor’s presence once again. The ideal situation would be him enjoying the outdoors with you, but he was busy trying and failing to remain unseen by you while doing rounds in the garden and peeking at you intermittently. You sighed and closed your book, wondering if starting an impromptu game of hide and seek would be too cruel when your love was already so wound up. You were feeling playful, though, and figured it wouldn’t hurt too much. You simply moved to be behind one of the pillars in the gazebo, and waited, stifling your giggles. It didn’t take long before he came barreling in, his back to you. You snuck up behind him, yelled out “gotcha” and jumped on his back. He jumped and turned to bare his teeth at you.

“Not funny Vivian,” he growls out, moving to hold you in front of him. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, pouting up at him.

“I thought it was funny, plus, you’re making the gardeners anxious with all of your pacing.” He kept up his grumbling, but finally decided to sit with you. By the time you were ready to go inside, the both of you were in a much better mood. You retire to your chambers, and Rhavor seems to grow anxious once again.

“I have something for you, Vivie,” Rhavor says, and he proceeds to hand you a blanket made out of his silk. It is unlike the one he used to teach you, in that it is much larger, thicker, and the design seems much more complex. It is beautiful and soft, and you are sure he spent a lot of time on it. You take it from him, your face split into a wide smile.

“This is so beautiful, thank you! No one has ever given me something so nice before.” you admit, pulling him down for a kiss. He kisses you back, so sweetly, and pulls away.

“It is part of courting, for driders. It symbolizes our desire and ability to keep you warm and provide for you. I’ve been wanting to make you one ever since I taught you how to knit all those months ago.” He admits, a hand coming up to run through his hair. The sweet intent behind the gift does not go unnoticed, and it makes you love it all the more.

“I have something for you too!” you say, full of excitement. You spread the blanket out on your bed, before going into a trunk to pull out the one you knitted for him. “I was going to wait until the Giving Days, but now seems like a much better time for this.” You hold out the deep purple blanket that reminds you so much of the color his cheeks turn on the rare occasions he is shy, and his reaction is very enthused. He lets out a gasp, and takes the blanket from your hand. He takes his time admiring it, and tells you how much you’ve improved.

“My princess, come here,” he beacons, and pulls you close. He bends down, laying kisses all over your face, wrapping his arms around you when you giggle and twist away. His lips then meet yours, and what started out as a chaste kiss turns into something carnal rather quickly. You feel his shirt slip to the side, his marks from you still there, and you feel hungry for him. You press yourself to him, and let the noises building in your chest escape you, him eagerly swallowing them. You aren’t sure how to convey how much you need him, but you try, pulling him towards your bed. He lays you down on the blanket he made for you, and pulls back a bit. His eyes run over you on the bed, and he lets out a deep noise that makes your thighs clench together.

“It looks as though you are in my web Vivie, it makes such a pretty picture,” he says while one hand is caressing your face and one of the lower ones is running up your calf. You do not have enough wit left to respond to this, you only open your thighs and arch up, hoping he continues to touch you. “Say the word and I will stop, princess, all you have to do is ask.” he tells you.

Your hands go to his arms, and you plead with him to continue. “Don’t stop, Rhavor. I want you, all of you.” The teasing look he often wears melts away, and he plasters himself against you once again.

“You honor me, my love,” he whispers into your ear, his mouthparts and fangs brushing against your cheek. You pull at his shirt, wanting nothing more than to run your fingers over his skin. He quickly obliges you, and throws it off and away. Rhavor pulls you towards the edge of the bed, and his lower two hands get higher and higher on your thighs while another is moving from your shoulder to your breast, a light brush that has you keening. His hands that are under your dress move and grab your ass, bringing the apex of your thighs to meet the growing bulge in his abdomen. You cant up your hips, gasping when you find the friction you so desperately seek.

“Rhavor, please, more,” you plead with him, not knowing what you want but knowing you need it like you need air.

“Shh, I’ll take care of you,” He says, not so frantic anymore. He leans down to softly kiss you, and helps you take off your dress. Once it is off, you feel like you can breath again, and Rhavor’s many eyes are trained on the rise and fall of your chest. He leans down, swirling his tongue around your nipple, and you tilt your hips up to grind against him once again, causing the both of you to let out a gasp. A large hand of his comes between your legs, rubbing your wetness through your smallclothes. You’ve never felt something so pleasurable, and you mewl and rub against his hand as if you were a cat. You feel in the back of your mind you should be embarrassed by your actions, but all you feel is pleasure.

You kiss and lick at the skin of his chest, nipping across a nipple, an action that causes him to make a teasing growl back at you. He pushes aside the cloth covering your core, and explores you with one of his deft fingers. He pumps it into your core, coaxing more moans from you. A thumb comes up to trace your lips, and you take it into your mouth, flicking your tongue on the end. Your eyes are wide as you stare into his, this eye contact only broken when he adds another thick finger to your core, stretching you for him. His hand leaves your mouth as you reach down towards his bulge and trace your fingers around it, delighting in the way he shivers at this touch. You feel him grow and his phallus unfolds from within. It is a deep and vibrant purple with black veins spider webbing across it. You trace it with your fingertips, your hand looking so small in comparison. His hips jerk when you get near the end, and you wrap your fingers around it. You move your hand up and down over the length, enjoying the feel of it and delighting in the way Rhavor is following the movements. He has not stopped pumping his fingers into you, and when he curls the long, angled digits your legs snap tight around him. You arch up and bring his length to your wetness, looking at him as you do. He pulls his fingers out of you, hushing you with a kiss at the sound you make once you’re empty.

“Do you want me to continue, princess?” he asks you, and you nod eagerly, adding on a strangled out “Yes” for good measure.

At this he takes himself in hand, coating himself in your wetness. You grip onto his shoulders as he breaches you, mouth falling open at the feeling of being so full. He goes slow, and the stretch is significant. He does not move yet, only bends down to kiss you, whispering praises about how good you feel and how lucky he is to have you. It feels like his hands are everywhere, the four of them caressing and rubbing at your skin. A strangled noise escapes you as you try to move your hips, and fireworks are taking off behind your eyelids at the feel of him. You feel as if you are floating away, but his touch grounds you. A hand is on the side of your face and Rhavor turns you to look at him. He pulls back and then thrusts forward, a shaky breath leaving him and a pleasured “oh” is punched out of your lungs. He keeps the pace slow and deep, neither of you wanting any more of him to leave your body than necessary. A set of hands were on your breasts, rolling and tugging on your nipples as another were propping your thighs open for him. You shared a kiss that was filthy, biting and full of tongue, and as Rhavors abdomen brushes above your entrance your entire body goes rigid. A deep moan escapes you as you screw your eyes shut, and it feels as though lightning is running through your entire body. You gasp for air and try to keep moving with Rhavor. He holds you tight, dragging out your pleasure before his hips stutter and he buries himself within your heat, your name on his tongue as you ripple around him.

You feel tingly everywhere, and your blissed out expression is mirrored by Rhavor. He shifts his weight to the side, and keeps his face buried in your neck. He kisses you as you come down, wrapping you in his blanket. You really do look as though you are caught in his web, and you have never been happier. You would formally announce your relationship in the morning.

#monster #monsterlover #monsterboyfriend #monster lemon #lemon #drider #drider boyfriend #monster x reader #female reader x male monster

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yutahoes · 3 years

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Be My Eyes

genre: angst (?), tragic (?), this is pretty sad.

word count : 3.3k words

A lot of things do come to you in surprise. Sometimes, they're happy things. Sometimes, sad things. But now, you were angry. Why did this have to happen? That's the only thing you can think of.

Of all the things that can fail, why your eyes? All you ever wanted was to paint, the only thing that makes you happy yet here you are suddenly suffering from blindness. You could just lose a limb or even be deaf. But the Almighty Being chose that you suffer blindness. God is really unfair.

You don't know how to navigate outside your hospital room but you just wanted to get out of the stuffy confined space. You tried to reach for the walls, stumbling on things that you weren't sure of, before reaching the door where you even bumped your head. Damn it, this is hard enough. How can you even live normally now?

Instead of feeling the hard wall, your fingers felt flesh. A person. You quickly bowed at the person you bothered then tried to reach out your hand for a wall. "Wait, where are you going?" You heard someone ask. You honestly don't want to tell the guy where you wanted to go. He might be a doctor.

Instead, you just continued feeling the wall until someone held the back of your hospital gown, pulling you back. "You'll bump your head." The same person as earlier. You've already given up. Your life wouldn't be normal again. You're sure of that. Why are you even trying?

"Where are you going?" That voice again. This might be the only positive effect of your blindness, your hearing heightened. "Let me take you to where you want to go."

You were still standing at the same place, one hand on the wall while the other tried to locate the person talking to you. Should you trust him? What if he's some psycho? But then, that would be better. You wanted everything to end anyways.

"Rooftop." You said quietly, not sure if the man was still listening to you.

He held your hand and you felt warm. He then placed your hand on his forearm. "It's the other way. Come on, I'll bring you to the rooftop." You decided to follow this man, letting him guide you. Your parents will get mad at you for trusting someone so easily but he's so gentle, careful with every step he takes.

All you could see is black but you know you're in an elevator. The faint smell of metal, the gears turning, you can even hear murmurs so it isn't just you and him inside the machine.

His arm feels muscular, skin so smooth. You can also smell a faint musky cologne. His hand held yours that was wrapped on his forearm, not letting you go. If someone would probably see you, you'll look like a couple. But he's a stranger. A stranger who just decided to help you find your way.

You felt the cold breeze on your face when you stopped in your tracks. You must be on the rooftop now. The stranger let go of your hand, tapping your shoulder in assurance. You felt cold all of a sudden. Because of the wind? Because the stranger left you? You're not sure.

The scenery might look beautiful. You had always liked rooftops and what you can see from the top of buildings. It's always a colorful sight, a sight full of wonder.

Which you cannot see now.

Your hands touched the cold metal of the rooftop rail. You just wanted to end everything. Without your sight, life would be useless. You can't even go to this rooftop without someone's help. And now, no one will really help.

You can feel your hands shaking in fright. What will happen to you now? Alone. Blind. Your knees weakened as you felt yourself dropping on the cold, rough asphalt of the rooftop. Tears were gushing out of your eyes. Surprised that a blind person can still produce tears.

There were sounds of footsteps nearing you and you realized that the rooftop is still a public place for patients. You must have looked too pathetic now. Something covered your head that startled you then someone tapped your back as you were still crouched on the ground. The faint smell of musky cologne. The stranger. "You're still alive. You can still do great things." He said, confirming that he is indeed that stranger. "There's a rainbow in every storm."

A rainbow that she cannot see anymore. "I'll make you see the rainbow." You tried to look at him in confusion, what is he talking about? "I'll be your eyes from now on."

You don't know if what he said was true but it's been two days that he's always in your hospital room. The first time, he brought fruits, and even if you can't see anything, you knew those fruits by smell. And he praised you, claiming that you're seeing things a different way. The second time, he brought you flowers which smells lovely. He said those were lavenders and they were light purple. You don't even know what it is at first but now you can envision the lavender flowers in your head. He's right. You're seeing things in a new light.

The third day, he brought you chocolates and coffee making the nurse annoyed that she quickly pushed your friend away. "You're one lucky girl, do you know that?" She asked while fluffing your pillows. Lucky? How? "He's really handsome. What is his name?"

You still don't know. You haven't asked for his name. He's handsome? Then he might be the same age as you. Why aren't you curious about him? You promised to ask questions about him the next day he'll come to your room.

The fourth day, fifth day, and the sixth day came but he didn't show up. Even your doctor teased that you don't have new flowers which you normally have every check-up day. Maybe he's tired, you thought. Who in their right mind would visit a sick person in the hospital every day? But why is he here that time? Is he also sick?

You've already given up on knowing about the stranger when you heard the door opened, making you sit up on the bed. That musky smell. "Oh, sorry. Are you resting? I'll come back later." His voice. He's back.

"No, it's fine." You said then sat properly as you heard his footsteps getting closer. You sighed. A lot of questions were running in your mind when he was not here. Now, you don't know what to ask him first. "How are you?" You chirped then regretted it. You sounded so happy.

You heard him chuckle. An enchanting sound that made you automatically smile. "You're really pretty, Y/N." He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Wait, how did he know your name? And he thinks you're pretty?

"What…?" A lot of questions were now running in your mind but you think only one mattered now, "What's your name?"

Again, a chuckle. "Yuta Nakamoto. Nice to meet you, Y/N."

A lot of things are not yet answered but having Yuta in your hospital room every single day has made every waking day happier. You always wait for him in the morning and when he's there, a smile wouldn't leave your face. When afternoon comes, you'll be sad to see him go but he would always promise to come back in the morning.

It feels great when you're together, even the nurses were saying that you look good together. It's only natural that you fell for him. A guy you can't even see. A guy you can only hear and smell. But a guy you slowly had developed feelings for.

It was one afternoon, the two of you hanging out on the rooftop. Yuta was asleep next to you as you listened to the calmness of the wind. Your fingers trailed to where he is, feeling his warmth. This must be his arms, you thought, and trailed your fingers up feeling his skin. He must have comfortable arms. Maybe he does work out. Those were the only thoughts in your head when you felt the muscles on his arm.

Your fingers went to his chest and your thought of him working out is confirmed. You remembered the statue of David that your art class would always draw. His body resembled that. You can also feel the lines on his stomach and blushed at the thought that Yuta would look good shirtless. When your finger moved south, a hand blocked yours. "Aren't you progressing too fast?" He asked with a hint of playfulness, holding your hand. "You can just ask me, you know?"

You blushed hard at that, trying to slip your hand away from Yuta who just held your hand tight. "I just want to know if you're really human and not some kind of a monster." He laughed wholeheartedly, sitting up.

Yuta held both your hands, placing them on his cheeks. "Feel me." Your thumb pressed on his cheekbones and they felt warm. He really is human. Your fingers went north to his forehead then trailed down to his eyes, feeling his long eyelashes that you envied. Yuta might have really lovely eyes. You went south to his nose then his lips. They're so soft.

The next thing you knew those lips were on yours, confirming how soft it is. He pressed feather-like kisses on your lips, hand on the back of your head to pull you closer. Both of your hands held on his shoulder, slipping on the back of his neck as the kiss grew deeper.

It's ironic, you thought. How can the person who made you breathe again make you breathless like this? "I love you, Y/N." He whispered then kissed you again. His hold on you and the way his lips devour you made you melt. You love him, you know you do. "I love you, Yuta."

He must have done something today or maybe the doctors just don't care about the two of you but it's already night time and he's still here. You're still on the rooftop. You were lying down, his arm served as your pillow while he caressed your head, threading his fingers on your hair. "Y/N, what do you want to do most if you're going to see again?"

"I want to paint again." You said almost immediately, missing the paintbrush in your hand and the smell of paint. "I want to paint the view outside the hospital window. The rainbow." You nuzzled your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. "I want to paint you."

He chuckled which vibrated on his chest, making you smile. "I wish you would paint me like one of your French girls, Jack." You giggled at that. Maybe.

But you knew that was impossible. You can never get your eyesight back. You cannot paint anything. You cannot paint Yuta.

"I promised you a rainbow, didn't I?" He asked when he came to your room. He placed a ceramic on your lap, letting you feel the rough surface. A rainbow. "Do you remember the colors of the rainbow?" You nodded, even first graders know that. "Here." He handed you a paintbrush that made you annoyed. How can you paint this rainbow when you can't even see colors?

"Yuta…" But he hushed you, opening something that you heard a pop. A smell of cherries filled the hospital room. "Cherry?"

"Cherries are?" He asked, guiding your hand that was holding the paintbrush. You felt it dip into something and the smell of cherry is stronger now. "They're red. The first color of the rainbow." He guides your other hand to feel the edge of the ceramic you are coloring. You really are painting.

Once you're done with the red cherries, he opened another one that smells of oranges. Orange, the second color of the rainbow. "You're painting now." He complimented and you realized that it was you alone who's painting the ceramic. You don't even know what it looks like but you can envision what it seems like you're doing. Yellow is banana while green is symbolized by a minty smell.

"Indigo is kind of hard so I used a light blue for blue and deep blue for indigo. I'm sorry." He explained while opening something that smells like cotton candy. You were transported to your childhood and the pastel blue cotton candies in carnivals. For indigo or the deep blue, he used blueberries. And last but not the least, lavenders for violet. "You painted a rainbow."

You smiled. He really did what he promised. "Yuta, thank you."

"You know I'll do everything for you, Y/N."

It's been two days since you got discharged from the hospital. And each day, you grew lonelier. Your parents are gone, most of the time you're alone. And Yuta never called or visited you.

You gave him your address, even your phone number so why isn't he going to you? Why isn't he calling you? Is it because you can paint now? Because he made you see, feel and smell rather, the rainbow? Is your little romance gone?

It was night, darker than usual when you heard someone knock on the door. It's dangerous. You're a woman, a blind woman. What if he's a robber? "It's Yuta. Y/N, please open up. Are you home?" Then your phone rang that he obviously heard.

When you opened the door, he immediately hugged you. His warmth. His musky smell. It really is Yuta. "I miss you. I miss you," he repeated, mumbling the same words. "I'm sorry, love."

You don't know what's happening. You don't know why he's here but you didn't care. The only thing that matters is Yuta next to you. "I love you, Y/N." He repeated, lips not leaving yours and showing you that he indeed loves you.

The moment you woke up, you felt the coldness of the bed. Is that all a dream? Where is Yuta? Is this another waiting game for days? You'll wait until Yuta shows up again. You were convinced it was a dream, he just came then went.

But your body is reacting otherwise. You can still feel his touch, his lips. You can hear his voice mumbling your name and his scent. He's not a dream.

It was just four days after what you felt like a dream when you received a phone call. "You have a cornea donor." A donor? She gave up on that. What is this about? And why isn't she feeling happy?

When the bandage was taken away, your vision had come back that you squinted because of the light. Is it always this bright? They gave you a mirror to look at your new pair of eyes. Sparkly, twinkling, compelling. You felt like you were sucked in by those dark orbs. A feeling that made your heart wrench.

A tear escaped your eyes and the nurses panicked. That's not supposed to happen. "Yuta," you whispered. If there was one thing that you wanted to do if you get your vision back, that would be to see Yuta. "I want to see Yuta."

The nurses avoided your look, even the doctors were not looking at you. Why? They know who Yuta is. Why can't they look into your eyes? Or the stranger's eyes rather. "Who's my donor?" You asked calmly but no one answered you. You shouted the same question and that's when one nurse handed you a piece of paper.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. We promised him that we won't tell."

You unfolded the paper which had the prettiest handwriting. The smell of paper mixed with ink and the musky scent. Yuta's scent.

'Hi Y/N.' The letter started. 'Sorry, I don't have the confidence to tell you this. I know you'll cry and I don't want that to happen. If you're reading this letter, I want you to smile. That's a good sign.' But you can't. How can you even smile now?

'The first time I saw you, I was really attracted to you. You are so pretty. But you look prettier when you cry. You're prettier when you look at me. I wish you could see what I can see. That you're an amazing person for not giving up.'

'Thank you for making my heartbeat again. Every night all I could ever pray is for Him to extend my life so I can spend more time with you. But life is unfair. If only I knew you sooner.'

'I'm sorry for being a coward. For hiding everything. But every time I see that smile on your lips, I get reminded how thankful I should be for breathing another day. Thank you for making me feel alive again.'

'Thank you for being my sunshine and giving color to my life. I love you, my rainbow.'

There was a smudge on his name, a tear stain. And you felt yours staining the paper some more.

Everything slipped in your mind. The first time you met. The countless times he's in the hospital. That time at the rooftop. Why didn't you realize that? He stays in the same hospital as you. The reason why he doesn't want you to give up and promised you a rainbow.

The warmth of the breeze comforted you as you scrunched the letter closer to your chest. Every time you finish reading Yuta's letter, you can't help but let a tear escape your eyes. Yuta's eyes.

Now, everything made sense. How your world became brighter when you regained your vision, how everything looked hopeful. It might not be possible, you might be crazy, but you're seeing Yuta's view of the world. He really did mean it when he wished that you can see what he can see.

"He loves you, you know?" Someone said from behind and you bowed at the older man in white. The hospital's oncologist. "He changed a lot because of you." He then smiled as if remembering something, "Nakamoto, that rascal." You smiled. He probably missed Yuta more.

He shared that Yuta came to the hospital months before you and he knew what's going to happen to him. "He refused treatment, already giving up on life." He shared that made you purse your lips. "One day he just came to me and said he met someone in the hallways. A girl so pretty especially when she cried." You giggled at that and he laughed. "He asked me if it's alright to date in the hospital and I let him."

"The things he brought…"

"He would always bother the nurses to get him things." He said with a laugh. "Then he came to me, one night, asking if he can do the chemotherapy." His voice got so serious that you just looked at the sky to avoid the heavy atmosphere. "We tried but it was too late. He knew it cannot save him."

A tear escaped your eyes again. He had been having a hard time all by himself. "He's going to be mad at me for making you cry." The older said with a chuckle. "That night, he begged to get out of the hospital to see you even if it's dangerous for him. The morning after, he was coughing too much blood but the last words he said is that he's happy to be with you in his last breath.” You choke on your sob. Until the end, he was thinking of you.

“It was also his idea to donate his cornea to you once he’s gone.” The older laughed. “We had to break hospital protocols just to see your records.” You laughed. He really did all those things just for you. It made you miss him more. You wish that you had a chance to see him. The doctor tapped the top of your head. “Don’t tire yourself out. I’m sure Yuta is watching over you.” He pointed at the ray of color gracing the sky that made you nod.

He really must be watching over you. Your rainbow. Your eyes. Nakamoto Yuta.

#yuta fluff #yuta nakamoto fluff #yuta angst #yuta nakamoto angst #nct angst #nct 127 #nct scenarios #yuta imagines

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jackarychaoti · 4 years

Text

Two Knights, Tonight. (Pt. 2)

Weeks had gone by when Jackary had turned to Darnath in the Emerald Dream and confessed that he needed to wake up and go see the real Darnath, that he had felt as if he had missed something and needed to check on him. It was in that moment of waking up that Jack realized just how awful it all was. Two years, no link, no feeling, no sensation. His comm was dead and even when he got it working, the system didn’t register - he had even slipped into headquarters but nothing was the same... Darnath’s trackers, his old ones before the updates, of course didn’t register, leaving Jackary stranded. That was then.

This was now.

Dicenne had somehow convinced Jack to get some sleep, swearing up and down he would wake Jackary up within a few hours and after a bit of reluctance, the dragon finally agreed. Within the Dream, his eyes opened slowly, going from a world of darkness and terror to the softest morning ray of sunlight caressing through his fluttering lashes. Like awakening from a nightmare only to find the warmth and security of your bed. Such a sensation brought a small exhale of relief and yet it was still disturbing. He knew he hadn’t found what he was looking for. Yet.

Herah and Alin where busily working in other parts of the forest, Mavas was working in the glade, and Rick was cleaning up the house. They had all done really well, getting as much of the nightmare that had rushed through their home cleaned and purified again. They were all growing bigger now. Stronger, like mini aspects inside the dream world Jack had forged and Darnath worked to ever expand into somewhere worth staying. At least that's what he had been doing.

Now he had more leisure... well 'time' didn't exist, but hobbies did. It could almost have been one of the early days. The warmth of sunlight filling the gentle calm of the room. This time Dar had picked up sketching, sitting not far from the dragon's resting form as he drew up a picture of each little scale and muscle that made up the sleeping dragon's curled cat like lounge. Belly up, legs akimbo, totally relaxed. Though that may not be the way he was laying just now... "Morning sleepy head... Or welcome back?" He shifted over to the bed to be closer and smiled. "Not going to complain about you waking up early... but you know you're welcome to nap as long as you like, right?"

The peridot hues shifted slowly and the moment he saw Darnath's faces be it dream or not, a pang of hurt swelled in his chest. The tears that again threatened were blinked away and a hand cupped his own mouth, silencing any noise of discomfort. He'd really messed up and what had been heaven felt like some sort of cruel joke.

"I can't find you." Jack finally admitted, muffled into his palm before both hands raised to rub at his eyes firmly and in frustration. "I can't feel the link, the comms aren't functional, I can't fucking find you... I just keep looking and it's just like when I lost--..." he paused, wracking his brain for the name. It had already begun, the slow erasure. "... Karasu." Scourge attacks, missing mate in Icecrown, it was the same hellish nightmare repeating itself. He was so confused, hurt and unsure of himself anymore. "I feel like... there, you don't want to be found. I would be mad at me, too... for being gone so long."

Darnath furrowed his brow at the sudden explosion of emotions and quickly put his sketches down. He trilled his tongue, the soft coo of a comforting parental dragon to help Jack relax. "Baby... Karasu was very precious to you. A phoenix, no? There's a book here with a few memories of him in it..." He started there, because that seemed most likely to be lost in the upset. "Are you mad at yourself?" He reached over, combing fingers through his hair and remaining calm, collected, everything Jack was assuming the real Darnath wasn't. "You wouldn't be pushing yourself into riskier and riskier situations in desperate hope your knight in shining armor will do as he always does and magically just know that you're in trouble would you? Even if you are, I know you're definitely not, accepting that as punishment when he doesn't show up."

"I'm furious at myself." Admitting it was difficult but Jack sniffled, trying his best to remain calm and quiet so as not to let the borders of the little grove shrink and let the nightmare back in. "I have been so careful in not getting into trouble as best I can, I have been working with others but it's hell, Moonlight. The Scourge are everywhere and..." Jack trailed off slightly, for Darnath had a point. What if he just... set off one of the trackers in his body? Would Dar have come searching the way Jack had been for weeks? Combing Azeroth and making deals with demons while trying his best to remain out of trouble... it was enough to push his palms to his eyes firmly.

"Maybe it is just punishment. I deserve it, I left him hanging because I was scared. I tried to focus on guarding something I thought he loved and I..." Trailing off, Jack's tongue pushed outward to lick his lips slowly. "I can't even feel the bond anymore. Like he simply got rid of it. Even if I was in trouble, he wouldn't know."

Darnath’s chest swelled with a deep breath in and out. Not quite a sigh, but definitely a bit upset for his dragon's sake. "I warned him this would happen. Baby..." He turned to show his Dragonsworn mark towards him, glowing now for how hard the dragon must have been calling to his mate. "I'm holding your bond for now. That's why you cannot sense each other. It was the only way to keep your grove stable enough for you to stay here so long. It keeps me stable, even if you're awake."

The knight thought for a moment before he gently pulled Jack's head and shoulders into his lap to better pet and cuddle him. Soon. Very soon. He'd have to give up the bond that was keeping his strength. "More importantly, I think punishing yourself when you don't know how he feels is... at least a bit premature. Perhaps I have a harder time grasping. I'm right here. I'm always here for you. I can't imagine not being... but you need him."

Eyes peered over to the mark, the glow left a small igniting glow in his own eyes from the resonating power of seeing just where his calling went. Furrowing, Jackary allowed himself to be moved, finding comfort in the connection and touch. The news was something that slightly alarmed the dragon, the fact that the dream version of his partner seemed to know what was going on but he didn’t.

“What?” Confusion remained in his voice but he frowned, ears raised in curiosity. “What do you mean you warned him this would happen? Why do you have the bond?” Had Darnath come into the dream while Jack was unaware? If so, then... When? Why didn’t he stay? Why didn’t he come speak to him? “I do need him, but... I’m confused.”

"I'm still me. Still, him. You asked him to stay once, long ago and so... I never left and helped you build a life in here... Maybe too well. He... I think he came to take you back, but he saw us together, the whelps playing, and felt you were happier here. He may have also felt a bit inadequate. Or had too many memories of seeing you hurting to take you from a place that made you smile."

The comments and facts that Darnath were giving him caused the dragon to close his eyes slowly. “Did he really always think that he didn’t make me happy?” No, it was beyond that, it was the fact that Darnath did what he thought would keep Jack happy and safe, a place where there was constant smiles. Jack should have been more clear, more up front with Dar and that was starting to show. “Can you feel him at all, or no?” It was a long shot but something that he needed to know.

"I have always worried about trying to make you happy. And safe. ...but I do remember feeling like you were never quite happy with me back... then." He was stalling. "Yes, I can feel him. ...He doesn't feel like himself though. Some kind of fractured rage stands in the way of really getting a feel for him. But I felt him strongest just before the nightmare wave washed through here. So whatever you were doing then, you were on the right path." And then, he knew better.. he really did. He knew the answers now, same as he knew Dar's answer when he asked him to stay too, "You know, nothing is stopping you from staying... I know a dream isn't perfect, but as long as I'm here that's proof he loves you. That I love you."

Being told he had been on the right path, Jack’s eyes closed again thoughtfully. He was somehow on the right track and thus meant he needed to return to Icecrown as soon as he woke up. But then the Dream Darnath spoke words that twisted something inside of him and it felt like a pang of guilt that flooded over him. He could have stayed here with this version, cozy and adored, and yet...

“People are dying out there right now, Moonlight. I am trying to help them as we speak and I... I need to apologize to him... To you.” Those eyes opened again to look up at Darnath, his hands raised just enough to grasp onto the Knight’s in order to squeeze them. “He deserves it, he deserves to hear it and know how I feel...” His head titled then, nuzzling at the other’s lap gently. “You both deserve that.”

"Yeeeah, I figured. You've been pretty hung up on that guy since he first went looking for you when you were in danger." He laced their fingers together and loomed over him with a sweet smile. "Carried you all the way from Shattrath to Eversong. ...And then never really let go. Even when you tried to push him away. Or locked away your thoughts so much, your jaw might as well have been tense and shut." Now he was teasing him. Much more like their usual banter, but this time it had a point. Trying to remind him without words what Dar might be feeling. "Be careful. I don't know where it comes from, but he's holding on to some heavy nose punching energy. Make sure to dodge."

"He broke it once before and in truth I deserve it. But I love him, and my life without him in something I don't want to imagine. I never tell him but he makes everything better and I feel safe when he is close to me. I clung hard that day because I realized it and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life, or as long as he would allow me with him." Lips tugged into a small smile and without even realizing it, the tears fell from the corners of his eyes. "Did you know I still carry my vows to him in my pocket? Words I never said, in the same envelope as a love letter I wrote to him years ago that I've always been too shy to give. Words he deserved and deserves to know." Drawing in a deep inhale, a breathless laughter puffed out. "I'm such a fool."

"Maybe. But you're my foolish dragon, Baby. You've always held your words hidden against your chest." He smirked at him. "Are you planning on changing that? More than deserves and shoulds..." he paused to think over his words and purred a moment to keep them both calm. He would disappear again soon. Jack would wake up. "You're always so focused on the past. The last two years. The people you left behind, but even before that. You first came in here comparing this to Karasu. ...Yet your dreams are always striving for the future. Apologize for the past, but while you're looking, maybe think over what you want the future to look like too. Dare to dream my emerald."

“Now you’re sounding like dad...” Jack whispered, but Darnath had a point. He was always so caught up in the past that he hadn’t even looked towards the future or thought about what he wanted outside of apologizing for something he couldn’t change. He needed to change, starting with moving forward. His fangs hooked his lower lip, biting and chewing in thought and yet when those bright peridots looked back up at Darnath, he seemed unsure, almost frightened to admit what he wanted.

“I want a life with him in it, I want to make up for what I did wrong and open up... As you say, more then deserves and shoulds and if that’s not in my cards for the future, then... I don’t know. Move forward.” His ear flicked slightly the moment a faint chime was heard in the distance of a familiar bell but he chose to ignore it a moment, clinging harder to Dar’s hands to keep himself steady. “I have to find you first.”

Jack...

Dar curled up close, shielding him from the sound. He knew he shouldn't cling, but he wasn't done... they were still talking... don't go... "Shoulds and Deserves are an improvement over what if's and never knows at least, but maybe there's more? A life... a future... maybe." Though he had to wonder if the dragon moved on, what was left for a forgotten dream? "Go find him. Go find the real thing, Baby. Whatever that ends up being."

Jackary...

The jingle again rang out but all Jack could do was ignore it in favour of reaching up to cling to Darnath, pulling him down slightly in the odd angle. Claws latched on, clinging to this version, almost scared to face the uncertainty that faced him in the real world. Here he was loved, he was safe and warm and out there, he was unsure. Here, Darnath still loved him and he had already done the apologizing but that was what made it so much harder to let go. "I will try my hardest..."

Wake up. It’s time to go.

Eyes snapped open as the soft colours of the dream were replaced with the cold darkness of early dawn, the pain returned to his body as a reminder of the hell he was living in. Looking up to see who was talking to him, Dicenne greeted him with a small smile, glad to see the dragon pull through from the slumber he had been in. The warmth of the Dream was gone, replaced with the cold harness of the ground he’d fallen onto, having rolled off Dice at some point in the night.

“I told you, I’d wake you up.”

A promise kept and after a lingering moment, Jack exhaled slowly and began to stretch his limbs, the tension really just his shedding scales that almost instantly peeled like sleeves, in full sheets of hardening green. The beautiful, bright and new scales below shimmered, even if some were already damaged by the Scourge. He knew where he had to go.

“I have to go back to Icecrown... Something is happening.”

| - @darnath - |

Mentions: | - @dicenne - |

#Return to Icecrown Arc #RP snippet #darnath #jack and dar #dicenne #Captain and Cap

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mosspool13 · 4 years

Text

Ambrosia

In which Noah washes Raeliana's hair

[Spoilers for Chapters 108-109]

Raeliana x Noah, Rated T.

For CloudySonder, who requested Noah POV and more... recent events :3

Also available on AO3

When they get back to the estate, Raeliana wanders upstairs, citing a need for a bath. Noah agrees with her. He massages his arm and elbow, tentatively checking the movement of the muscles in his arm. There is a bit of a strain, but the magic seems to have returned his arm to him whole and well. Other than some tightness, there is no pain.

He would not have cared if he had lost his arm, as long as Raeliana was safe and alive, that was all he cared about. Though to use that magic on him... he wasn't sure if he was completely alright with the idea, but her confession of love was still swirling in his head and he found himself following her figure upstairs without conscious thought.

She was already inside the bathroom when he reached it, and he slipped inside right as she made a sound of contentment, lowering herself into the bath. She shoots up at the sound of Noah closing the door behind him, however.

"Noah?! What are you--Get out!" She gasps.

Raeliana begins to rise, her hands covering herself protectively, before she seems to think better of it, and quickly sinks back down in the bath, trying her best to cover herself under the water. Noah watches her in amusement as she glares up at him from the water.

"Get out." She tries again, but Noah ignores her and goes to test the water from the faucet. It is hot, very hot even, and Noah hides his wince by shaking out his hand. He subtly turns the water down and then flicks the excess water at Raeliana fondly.

"Noah." She says, her teeth gritted and her cheeks high with color. Her irritation and embarrassment are as much an aphrodisiac to him as her intellect is. It is why he so often finds himself seeking her out, teasing her until she goes red, or storms out of a room. But for his purposes now, he wants her comfortable and relaxed.

"Turn around." He says, indicating his desire with a turnabout of his hand. She glares at him suspiciously and he continues, amused. "I am not going to get in," he raises an eyebrow, "unless that is what you are hoping for--"

She sputters indignantly, going an even darker crimson before whirling around so Noah has a view of the fall of her hair over one shoulder, and the pale line of her spine. His eyes linger a moment on the curl of hair that lies tantalizingly across her shoulder and falling across her shoulder blade. His fingers twitch, to reach out, to cup her neck and lay a finger across her spine, to dip down, to see her shiver, to see her react.

Noah leans forward and grabs the bottle of shampoo on the lip of the tub and distracts himself by rubbing the soap into his palms.

Because he is allowed now. Raeliana has shared his confession, it is mutual, and the elation it brings him, the utter disbelief and surprise and relief, soars through him desperately like a young fowl getting to its feet for the first time.

It's a little pathetic, if he's honest with himself, to become so pleased so quickly after a returned confession.

Raeliana becomes impatient, as Noah rubs the soap between his fingers, and turns to look over her shoulder at him. The bright shine of emerald in her eyes draws him in as she purses her mouth at him, "What are you doing?" She asks, suspiciously.

"Washing your hair." He replies simply, and rests soapy fingers against the sides of her head, right under her ears. She startles, surprised, and then looks straight ahead, flushing again as Noah begins to run his fingers delicately through her hair.

And then he gets to work. He occasionally cups water in his hands and runs it through her hair, and then suds up the soap as he begins washing her hair with it. Raeliana slowly, very slowly, begins to lose the tension in her shoulders.

"Isn't this nice?" He needles, smiling behind her back as she relaxes against the side of the tub, her shoulder pressing into his chest. His shirt is beginning to become wet, but he ignores it when he hears her huff.

"Yes, it is." She responds. "You could have just said this was what you had in mind in the beginning."

As she moves her head, Noah can see the little love bite he'd left just between the juncture of her neck and her shoulder. It is a dull color, purpling only a little bit, just enough to be visible, as he'd intended.

He wants to press his mouth to the nape of her neck, nip at the skin, suck another love bite right beside the first, and then lave over it with his tongue. He smirks instead, and continues to rub soap into her hair. "Then I would have missed your reaction."

She snorts and side-eyes him but doesn't move away and the quiet stretches between them, comfortable, with the sound of water and Noah's hand working their way through her hair.

Her hair looks darker when it is wet, and Noah begins to rinse out the soap as his fingers play with the strands. He takes his time, too much time in fact. Raeliana must notice him stalling, because she leans out of his hands and turns around to stare at him. She has one arm covering her breasts modestly, the other holding the rim of the tub, but despite the vulnerable pose, nothing about her looks vulnerable. Her eyes are too sharp; they've always been too sharp.

"What is this, Noah?"

Noah quirks an eyebrow at her, "What does it seem like to you?"

She frowns at him. He waits, kneeling beside the tub, his fingers tense around the rim where she can't see. He's always waiting for her, anticipating her. Waiting, hoping, desiring her, on edge with want. It's a burn that he's seen in the reflection of a wine glass in his eyes, a familiar look, the same his father once had. He'd believed himself doomed to the same fate, always wanting, always waiting, for something that would never be. A fool.

The taste of her mouth is still lingering from a few hours ago. A handful of kisses between them, not nearly enough. It's this that has brought him following after her.

She sighs as she looks at him, and then opens up her arm for him, the one not covering herself, an invitation. Noah takes it gladly.

He leans in close, skimming his lips over the side of Raeliana's neck, collecting water droplets sliding down her skin. He can feel her flushing underneath his mouth. "I love you." He murmurs, into her skin and he can hear her intake of breath. Her hands reach out, gently cupping his neck and head and Noah nuzzles even further into her. She caresses his hair, getting him wet, and then presses a light kiss to his bangs. "I love you." She says back to him.

He shudders. He can feel it running through his body, to the tips of his feet. A part of him had been afraid that she might take it back. That after the danger, after his arm is returned whole, after they had slept off the adrenaline, that she would deny him again.

The relief is all encompassing.

Almost involuntarily, he skims his teeth across her skin and hears her make a decidedly different kind of noise. All of a sudden, she's pushing him off and way from the tub. When he looks up, she's red again and scowling.

"That's enough! Let me bathe in peace now." She orders, turning quickly around and hunching into the water. Her ears are red.

Noah smiles and stands, drying off his arms with a towel. "Don't take too long." He cautions before he slips out of the room.

It was some time ago when he was left watching after her, wondering if all he would get would be cold shoulders, sleeping in the same estate but not the same bed, her presence at his side, but still a thousand feet away. At the time, he'd been prepared to accept that, now he finds he cannot bare the thought of it. Not when he has this.

He's changing into a dry shirt, Adam standing at his side, when he hears the scream. He and Adam glance at each other before Noah waves him off and begins to head upstairs.

He's pretty certain what it is Raeliana is upset about. He breathes in as he reaches her door and begins to enter.

And dodges the pillow that she lobs right for his face.

#the reason why raeliana ended up at the duke's mansion #raeliana mcmillan #noah wynknight #my #writing #my fic #fanfiction

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chimswae · 4 years

Text

Untold Bonus Part 3

Foreword:

Some stories are better left unsaid.I couldn’t change anything for the world, although the fame part of this industry is tough to handle.Do i have a life? Yes I have my fans.Do i have friends? Yes the members that I cherish. Do i have love? No I have to let go.Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow. But do i have any tomorrow?

Pairing: Jimin x OC (Other characters: BTS, OCs, Lee Taehwan)

Genre: Idolau, Fluff, Romance, Father!Au

Word Count: 2,324

Author Note: I totally forget to finish update Untold! forgive me ;; This is an old story of mine i think i wrote it in 2017, so please ignore my clicheness and the excessive usage of clicheness~ that makes u cringe haha

You can check full masterlist below :)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Part 3

Although their camel tour ended a little comically, everyone had fun. Hoseok on the other hand was salty the whole day because of the poop incident. As soon as they reached their hotel, Hoseok spent at least two hours in the bathroom alone taking super long bath just to get rid of the smell or whatever he thought it was. He claimed it was to stabilize his mental state after the horrifying event.

Hoseok could be a little too dramatic sometimes, no one could stop that guy.

Leaving Hoseok with his delusional thought, others went to get dinner at nearby restaurant and bought takeaways food for him to savor later on. Enjoying the night city view, the stars sparkle in the night sky.

“I love the city when it shuts down” Jimin whispers.

Yeoul smiled upon hearing that low and raspy voice of his, so enticing. They both strolled the parks pedestrian pathways following others from behind silently. The streets was empty, there were minimal number of people around and most of them were couples. The emptiness was strange and magnificent.

“This is perfect” she squished their hand tighter.

In front of them, there were Taehyung with his cameras and his loyal assistant Kim Namjoon, his eyes fixated on his gadgets. These two guys sometimes stopped in the middle of their walk to take good picture and admiring them afterwards. Or ended up bickering over Vante’s photos.

Maknae and Jin on the other side were busy scanning the city and finding good spots to shop, though there were fewer shops opened past 11. The couple did not give up on whatever they were planning to buy, more like souvenirs.

Taehwan and Yoongi went back earlier than them since they wanted to catch up their sleep, with that they offered to bring Minyeol together. Poor Minyeol being dragged around by the adults. Not to mention, they still had to feed loner Jung Hobi, that guy must be starving.

Yeoul and Jimin took their time to enjoy this night stroll exchanging funny stories or stealing glances. Being with Jimin taught Yeoul how to swoon him with a simple flirt and playful kisses. She was taught well.

“Baby..Let’s ditch them” he tugged on Yeoul arm preventing her to move.

“Are you crazy? They will flip out” raising her eyebrows with a questionable look, she watched Jimin took his phone typing something in his phone.

Jimin grinned “Done. I notify them in our Kakaotalk group,so lets go” he pecked her lips, intertwining their hand together. Yeoul could only smile at his randomness and followed him wherever he wished to go. Anywhere with Jimin is everywhere she wanted to be.

Like a flash the couple disappeared from their vicinity for their own oh-not-so-romantic midnight tour. Jin and Jungkook had so much sense in them that they did not even care when they left unlike someone who insisted of following those two. Another reason how they ended in Morocco anyways, Kim Taehyung really need to stop pursuing different career in his life. The preferred V and Vante for now.

Please don’t turn him into Varazzi or something.

------------------------

There sitting side by side, two pure soul enjoying each other company under dark sky accompanied by the heat from the bonfire across them. Being drawn by the warmth of their body heat, Yeoul snuggled in Jimin’s embrace smiling as he rested his chin on top of her head.

The fire glimmered and gleamed, its warmth drawn people in creating an atmosphere for sharing and making memories. As the night grows, they wished to linger around just a little longer in the warmth and contentment around the fire.

Everything about tonight was perfect.

“Aren’t you tired?” he was the one who first broke the silence between them.

Jimin felt Yeoul shifted a little in his embrace and soon he heard she replied “Tired of what? You? That is impossible.. I prefer to cling onto you for the rest of my life” she teased while wrapping her arm around his waist tighter.

“You cannot be tired of me. My charms are overflowing” he gazed down into her dark orbs. A pair of eyes that never failed to draw him in into this crazy world. World with unspeakable love. World that fills with hope. World that fills with happiness.

If she were to list down her weakness when it came to Jimin, his gaze would definitely on the list. In fact, that’s her utmost weakness.

“Aren’t you being a little over confident right now Park Jimin-ssi?” she ran her thumb over his lips, stroking it softly.

“I don’t mind if it is you I am trying to win over” caressing the back of his hand along Yeoul’s soft cheeks, Jimin closed the gap between them and locking her into a long endearing kiss. A kiss that he wished to give everyday.

Their lips move just perfectly in sync following their rapid heartbeat. He stroke over her back in a light touch that sent tingles in her heart. Every time their lips touched the spark ignite anew. Yeoul placed her palm upon his chest over his heart and felt it strong steady beat. The kiss deepened as she could feel with every stroke of his tongue latching onto hers.

They broke the kiss to catch a deep breath “You are irresistible Park Jimin” Yeoul mumbled against his lips.

“I am sorry. You have to deal with it until death do us part” nuzzling her face, Jimin chuckled softly.

“I don’t mind” this time Yeoul was the one who initiate their second round. Locking her arm around his neck tight, she pulled him down for another kiss. Who knows a kiss with Jimin can be addicting? Well Yeoul had her whole life to deal with it.

----------------------

It was time to get back to reality. Everyone was physically ready to be back in Korea but not mentally. They will be missing Morocco for sure. Nonetheless, thanks to Kim Taehyung unexpected plan Yeoul and Jimin stays in Morocco was extra fun than they expected. Creating new memories with their loved one especially Bangtan, Taehwan and Minyeol, it was beyond perfect.

Boarding the plane on time, everyone got into their seat. First class seat as they said, but Jungkook was stuck with Jin for the whole journey, how unfortunate. He liked his hyung but sometimes he’s a little too bubbly for someone at his age. Considering he is in the hyung line, Jungkook felt he had slowly shifted toward the maknae line.

Welcome aboard Kim Seokjin!

Even before the plane took off, Jin insisted to sit on the aisle and made Jungkook stay in the middle. They had no idea who would take the window seat but scratch that, he hoped that person wouldnt snore that much.

Jungkook eyes wandered at the direction of their seat and noticed the window seat was already occupied. He couldn’t get a full view of the person but he’s sure it was a girl. So, he sank in his seat carefully not to startle the girl whom seemed engross with her reading. She had earphone plugged in both of her ears got him less anxious to sit behind a stranger some more a girl.

The older boy came few minutes later with a triumph grin plastered across his face, more like mocking Jungkook for sitting beside a girl.

Maknae grunted under his breath feeling unfair as he sent death glare at Jin’s way “If it weren’t for you……” Jin dumbfounded look was even annoying.

As the plane was ready for take off, Jungkook stole a glance at the girl beside him. He admired her long eyelashes, and her soft fluffy cheeks which again reminded him Jimin’s puffy one. Her fingers were beautiful and those accessories that she wore fitted perfectly around it. He tore his gaze from examining her feature even more like a creep. Jungkook had no idea why was he so nervous when the girl beside him showed no interest to start a conversation even a simple hi.

You are so stupid Jungkook. He grimaced.

The first hour of the journey, Jungkook had decided to pay all his attention on the games in his phone. His mind sometimes was too wild and he tended to over thinking too. The girl snapped the book closed as she stifled her yawn, stretching her aching muscle.

She loved window seat since she had more space for herself and most importantly she didn’t have to deal with strangers on plane. Engaging into unimportant conversation was one thing, but she hated people who snore in the plane.

Thank god, the two guys beside him seemed normal. She totally forgot to take a glance at the guy beside him and only to realize he’s quite good looking. Not an average look for a man at his age, but his eyes and those visible veins were her weakness.

Reaching out to her hair, she’s about to tie it into a bun but only to lose grip on her red hairband. It landed just few inch from Jungkook’s feet. Jungkook realized that and put away his phone. He bent down to pick the hairband up but at the same time the girl was already reaching for it. Their head were hitting each other, earning a low gasp from both Jungkook and the girl.

Jungkook straightened up with a baffle look “I am so sorry” he apologized earnestly.

The girl took the hairband and rubbed her sore head with a small smile “It is alright. I am sorry for dropping this” their eyes met. The girl grew anxious at the sudden staring battle that they had right now. She touched her face in case she smeared her lipstick.

“I am sorry? Is there something wrong” she inquired.

He was brought back to his sense as he blurted without he realize “Nothing. You are just pretty” Jungkook himself couldn’t believe what’s coming out from his sinful mouth. Clasping his hand over his mouth, he patted it giving it a scold.

The girl blushed upon hearing his compliment as he watched him in horror “W-hat…” she faked a laugh and averted her gaze from Jungkook.

“I mean..I didn’t mean to say that. That is just weird. I am sorry again” He bowed a little hoping he would not scare the girl away. What’s wrong with him anyway? This stupid filthy little mouth gave away compliment so casually especially to a stranger like her.

She shook her head “It is alright. It must be the gravity” she reasoned.

Jungkook bit his lower lips to surpass his chuckle at her silly reply “Urm.. I am Jeon Jungkook by the way” he flashed her a charming smile not trying to win her over but that’s just how he smiled.

The girl was taken aback at first not expecting the guy beside her would introduce himself. This was the start of every conversation, how she hated that. Therefore just to be polite, she replied Jungkook casually “Nari…Son Nari” her eyes gleams.

“Nari.. Nice to meet you Nari-ssi”

“You too Jungkook-ssi”

Interestingly, this Son Nari girl seemed to not recognize him. Not to sound like a superstar, but to be frank everyone knew Bangtan Sonyeondan but for some reason this girl had zero idea of his existence as one of famous idol members.

After exchanging their names, they fell into silence again. Nari exasperated a sigh of relief knowing Jungkook was not a talkative person, so she could enjoy this plane ride with ease.

Little did Jungkook know, Jin was actually faking him being asleep. He heard it all up until those little innocent conversation made by Jungkook introducing himself to some random girl. It was a rare sight but he’s proud of his dongsaeng mustering his courage to talk to opposite sex.

Jungkook stiffened in his seat still contemplating whether to ask questions or kept his mouth shut. Part of him wanted to prolong this conversation as he was curious of this Son Nari person. A soft sigh escaped as his fingers fiddled nervously.

“You should be thanking me later Jeon” a soft voice whispered awfully low and close to his ears causing him to jerk backwards accidentally hitting Nari again.

“I AM SO SORRY AGAIN” he looked over at the confused girl and threw a nasty glare at Jin, grinding his teeth together.

“You seem to have the knack of bumping into others clumsily” she chortled.

The corner of his lips tugged into an embarrass smile “I thought there was a bug on my seat” he lied. Studying her facial more clearly know, he could tell she’s judging him considering how hard she tried to hold back her laughter.

“Actually you kinda remind me of one of my friends.. he is..” Nari couldn’t believe with her own eyes that she actually felt comfortable talking to a stranger exchanging their stories and life which was she rarely did every time in public.

But..Jungkook. Something about him made it feel different.

Was it his smiley face?

Was it his perfectly round eyes?

Was it his giggly side every time he got shy?

It had always been a start of something new. Nari could use new friends.

Previous | Next: Epilogue

#untoldseries #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jimin x oc #jimin idolau #jimin father au #park jimin father au #bts series #jimin parenthood au

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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

Text

Dodging Death Pt 6 (Hakuno, Caster Gilgamesh)

Previously: 1 2 3 4 5

____

Ah, of course.

Magic retainer to lover.

Hakuno stared at the man a moment before she averted her gaze to her drink.

There was nothing to fear here. No, there was a more obvious explanation, one that would explain why Cu hadn’t fully listened and why she wasn’t really reacting strong enough to someone suddenly appearing where her cat had just been standing: she was drunk.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Whatever bottle she’d been partaking in, even though it was such a small amount, was no longer going to be drank in her home. In fact, she was going to go completely and one hundred person sober from here on out. She’d eat right, no more sweets-

…Okay, like one dessert a week.

She’d have one dessert a week instead of indulging in the daily sweets. She’d exercise and train from here on out. She knew Emiya was doing archery with Sakura. Rin did boxing a bit and sojutsu with Cu Chulainn. She could do one of those things. Or maybe she could become a boxer. She could get some serious arm muscle and start really working out.

That’d be cool.

Yeah, she’d learn to box.

“Hakuno…”

The point was, she was going to be a better person. She’d finally lost it. She had imagined her cat transforming into an obnoxiously attractive guy. She was no doubt panicking because, on some level, she’d had unprotected sex with a guy who-

“Shit,” Hakuno breathed.

The man stared at her.

“…How many women do you sleep with?”

If there was a man in her house, which her hand on his chest said there was, then she had slept with someone and not somehow bruised and bit herself. That meant she’d had sex with someone with no regard for consequences.

The man’s jaw dropped, his coughing and pulling back making her feel no better than before.

“Woman, I am not explaining this to you-“

“Are you tested?”

He just stared as though she’d asked something entirely ridiculous.

“Are you tested for diseases? It’s a simple yes or no question.”

“Hakuno, there’s no testing for diseases. One asks their gods to ensure that they are not struck down by illness.”

She cursed, climbing out from under him and onto her feet.

Great. So she’d slept with a guy who didn’t know the first thing about diseases and she’d had that great sex without any regard towards her own wellbeing.

“I could be pregnant with our luck.”

Another big absolute no in her mind. They weren’t doing that. She had classes to attend. She had friends to make and friends to fight with. If someone was going to date her, it would be after they became friends and became close. Emiya had been as close to acceptable as someone had ever become. Since he was a big no, there was no one else.

So, tomorrow morning she’d go and visit the doctor. It was a Saturday. There’d be a few hours at the doctor’s office that she could sneak in during to get a complete workup. She’d ask for some medicine to help prevent this panic from happening again and-

The man’s hand took hers, the blond nearby holding it as though he’d just grasped the most fragile piece of glass in the world.

“…I was not aware that your fertility was so great…”

She shook her head.

“I’m sure I’m probably not,” she told him, pulling her hand away.

They were tabling this conversation. Yes, they weren’t going to be considering that kind of thing when there were bigger problems.

“What’s your name?”

A name would let her know who to look up the next time he came whisking into her home and then scurrying out with the sun. If he was real. She was quite determined to keep that idea far, far from close to mind.

The man nodded, clearing his throat a bit.

“I suppose that this is all quite sudden for you. I hadn’t considered, since you had taken most everything so well, that you would become a bit concerned about a proper introduction. Since I am technically courting you and intend to claim you for myself, it is only just.”

It was only just. The man helped her to sit beside him on the couch and smirked, pressing a hand to his chest.

“I am Gilgamesh, Mage King and son of the god Utu’s child Lugalbanda and the goddess, Ninsun. I rule over the kingdom of Uruk, a kingdom of great prowess and insight. We are the luminaries of the world, the keepers of the great knowledge of the ancients. I defeated the great bull of heaven. I slaughtered the great monster of the Cedar Forest, Humbaba. I partook in the bounty of Uruk’s splendor and rose the kingdom to immense heights to such a level that the gods themselves weep in envy.”

Arrogant.

He was Gilgamesh and he was extremely, unerringly arrogant.

He’s worse than his story.

Hakuno stared at him for a moment, watching him turn that gaze to hers once more as he rattled off his accomplishments. He leaned in closer, that fine face just mere centimeters away from her own.

“I’m Hakuno Kishinami. Student. Librarian. Ancient Studies amateur researcher in the making.”

“Researcher… like on the television?”

Like on…

Hakuno shook her head, “Those researchers are for solving crimes. The only crimes I solve are in artifacts and ancient times. Like- What kind of meaning comes from these old texts,” she motioned at the epic.

“Hakuno.” The man snorted, covering the smirk on his face that said she’d said something incredibly stupid. “If I had my court here, I would forever record the absurdity of your words. Despite your metal horses and your finer technology, I’m afraid you must get your head out of your books and realize that Uruk is just a mere ride or so away from here.”

“The remains of it, maybe.”

She wasn’t dumb. She knew that the remains were out there. They’d made it a historical site and one in need of preservation but-

The man leaned in closer, his frown etching deep lines upon his face.

“Excuse me?”

“Uruk. Its remains exist.”

“What are you talking about? I came from there a mere month or two ago.”

No, she’d plucked her cat off the street a mere two months ago.

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh moved closer yet. “Uruk cannot be destroyed so easily in two months’ time.”

“This isn’t funny. You can stop this and just tell me your real name.”

The man glared at her.

“Uruk’s been gone for centuries. Millenia. It’s… Hold on.”

She grabbed her laptop, against her better judgement, and turned it on. While it was booting up, she went for her drink, but the man downed it on her, setting her glass down harder than it needed to be set down.

She pulled up a selection of images, opting for the visuals since words probably wouldn’t mean much.

The man simply stared at it.

“…What is this?”

“Uruk.”

“My Uruk has the center ziggurat. There are channels running through the districts to ensure flowing trafficking of goods from one area to another. I have districts with smithies and breweries…”

“You may have had that at one time.”

But he didn’t have that now.

The man pulled the computer into his hands, looking at the keyboard and the mousepad in a strange manner. His fingers pressed to the screen, jumping a little at the fact that she had a touch screen.

“It’s ah… Let me show you,” Hakuno offered.

The man was either a brilliant actor or insane.

As she navigated the sights, showing him the images on the screen, she found him pulling her into his arms. Anything they’d discussed before was permanently tabled. His eyes were running over the images. His face was paling to the color of bleached sheets. Those red eyes were looking at the words, his voice barely getting out the question of what everything said.

“Uruk fell.”

He felt so still.

Hakuno glanced up at him as she read through the downfall of the kingdom. She could feel those fingers digging into her person as she described what she read.

“You should know some of this. There’s a large excerpt on the death of the advisor, Siduri and about the blasphemous clay being, Enk-“

“Don’t.”

Hakuno felt him reach in front of her, closing the laptop and setting it on the floor. His arms pulled her closer to him.

“Don’t speak of this right now. You are a maiden and you allowed me the comforts of your body before. I simply need the feeling of your person against my own. I require your silence and your arms holding me right now.”

That face nuzzled her own. The man holding her shivered and nuzzled her, pulling blankets over their bodies and murmuring softly to her.

“It is always so damn cold in your home.”

“I can’t afford…” Her words stopped at the sight of the king’s eyes closed. There was a wetness that hit her face underneath his.

He’s…

The man could have done anything.

Rage, threaten, scream, grow violent, try to come onto her; all of those things would have had simple answers of calling the police and sending him out of her home. She would have had a drink, called up Rani, complained about the asshole that had come into her home, and gone on with her life. It would have confirmed that the man was insane.

Seeing someone who’d just proudly declared that he pretty much could rule a kingdom and defeat the biggest of enemies begin to look like this…

Hakuno wiped at his face, murmuring for him to release her a moment.

She cranked up the temperature in the house, grabbing the blankets from the bed and bringing them to the living room. She pulled the coffee table closer and, after making a pot of coffee, she wrapped herself under the blankets with the king.

“What is this?”

“Coffee.”

“You enjoy your coffees,” he murmured.

There was nothing not to enjoy about her coffees. She sipped at them, grateful for pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into her drink. The man at her side sipped at his black version of the drink, humming appreciatively.

She set the television to one of those music stations, where it would just play soft music and let them see something just visually pleasing. Her body ended up atop his, nestled into his arms.

“I should find you clothes,” she murmured.

“I have no need for such things right now,” the man murmured to her, burying his face into the crook of her neck. “I have dreamed about holding you for days. Allow me my indulgences.”

“You are not my cat,” Hakuno argued.

“I have seen your naked body more times than I can count on these hands, Hakuno,” the man replied, smirking into her skin. “I know every curve, every dip and inch… I’ve nuzzled this chest you have so many times when I wished to rest.”

The man purred like a cat as he said that last bit.

“Had I possessed you in my time, I would have surely been harassed less about the task of seeking rest. I would have come to my bed far more easily.”

“Mhmm.”

“I know that you don’t like if there’s too much pressure on your chest,” he continued. “You are especially weak to someone moving anything light against your belly and chest though.”

As though to prove his point, he stroked at her stomach lightly, watching her squirm and nearly knock their drinks out of hand.

The mugs were abandoned.

The king pulled her deeper into his arms, kissing lightly at the top of her head.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to argue about his being a cat part of the time. He didn’t seem all that eager to bring it up either. Without that, they were left in a moment of silence, listening to the soft music playing in the background. His hand not holding her close began to brush back her hair gently.

Those lips of his pressed lightly to her forehead, then to the top of her head.

“I found my way here,” he murmured, taking his time to move those hands of his to her back. The man was working miracles on her back, making her sink into his embrace. “I will simply need to recall the magic I used before when we resolve this transformation problem of mine and we can return to my time. We’ll save Uruk.”

“You will,” she corrected, yawning lightly.

“We. Will.” The man tilted her chin up, pausing from his ministrations to look her in the eye. “I cannot promise you that your life will be simple. I cannot promise you that I will senselessly spoil you until you can want for nothing. I learned from a young age that such things cannot satisfy a person.”

That hand stroked her cheek softly.

“What I can promise you,” he continued, “is that there will never be a moment in your life where you are without option. I can promise you the joy that you showed to me upon having your magic freed. I will spend all the time that you wish teaching you how to use that power of yours. I will show you what the ancients, what your ancestors in particular, took great pleasure in while you were forced to live as a mongrel amongst mongrels.”

“You have a kingdom to look after,” Hakuno countered.

“I do.”

“I don’t need to know how to use my magic.” Despite how fun it would be to know, she could always just take pleasure in the fact that she could be lazy about turning off light switches. “Just take care of your people.”

“We will,” he pushed again, pulling her up his person a bit, delving one of his hands into her hair and tilting her face towards his. “I have seen what you are capable of. Harnessing winds to dry my hair, changing the temperature of a space without magic knowledge, harnessing the world’s information into the device you used before; your qualities are endless.”

She had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded nice when he said it. She leaned into that hand, finding him stroking his thumb across her cheek.

“I thank you for the coffee.”

“Coffee always helps. At least, for me it does.”

She fell asleep, deep enough that she didn’t register anything until the sun started to stream into the room. The body beneath hers began to shake, pulling out from under her and waking her up in time to see the shaking of a light golden coat and the soft mewl of her cat.

Gilgamesh was once more G.

“It was too good to be true that you’d stay human, huh?” Hakuno asked, yawning lightly.

The cool air hitting her chest made her look down.

“…Really, Gilgamesh?”

When had he taken her shirt off? Why had he taken her- But there was a bitemark on her chest, showing just off to the side of her aching chest. Shifting merely told her that she was going to be taking a shower to simmer down this morning.

“We’re having a talk about what can and can’t be done when I sleep,” she warned the pet, stalking passed him with her comforter wrapped around her person. “You can forget about any coffee privileges if you become human at all in the next week.”

She showered.

She dressed.

Taking an extra few minutes, Hakuno found herself looking in the mirror.

Other than a bit of fatigue and a couple bruises she’d need to tuck her turtleneck over, she didn’t look that bad. Perhaps magic helped…

Magician Hakuno.

Now if she could just magic some knowledge into her head.

Wait…

Can I?

Hakuno moved into the living room again, finding G swaying gently to the sound of the music on the television. Those eyes opened lazily, regarding her with mild interest as Hakuno sat down.

Wasn’t this always the dream: to simply press your head to a book and gain all the knowledge through an osmosis kind of thing? The book was filled with translations and grammar rules about Sumerian. If she managed it, then she could really talk to Gilgamesh. She’d never have to study again.

A light, inquisitive mewling came from nearby.

“Just a second, Gil.”

She had to check this out.

She pressed her head to the book lightly.

Memorize.

The rush came like the crack of a whip, like a surge of burning heat speeding through her veins. Words and sentences flashed through her mind’s eye. She could feel her mouth and her throat aching for some reason, like she’d been talking for hours and had groan hoarse. The more she tried to breathe, the more it all hurt.

She could hear G meowing nearby, but she couldn’t fully see what was going on. Opening her eyes just made the piercing migraine increase.

Her body grew dizzy.

The floor was coming up to meet her.

And the world grew black.

#drabble #drabbles

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iamwhelmed · 5 years

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Homesick: Chapter 4

I’m worried Raven may be a bit OOC here, even with the added stress of pregnancy, but I’m excited to post it <3

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She'd never lost her memories, that much she admitted. She'd been scared, guilty, riddled with hatred for who she'd been and the things she'd done. She knew very well that the titans forgave her, she'd seen the flowers at her feet when she woke up, but that didn't mean that she forgave herself.

That's what she told the team (minus Raven and Starfire, much to Terra's disappointment). She'd needed time, time to get more of a hang on her powers without Slade's influence, time to find herself again, understand the rock-climbing, cave-sleeping, salad-bar-devouring girl who got lost in turmoil. Beast Boy was the first to come forward, threw himself over her like a rug over tile, squeezed her with such desperation that she swore he thought he was dreaming. But he wasn't, she was there, and she took the opportunity to dig her nose into the warmth of his neck, nuzzling into the crook. When Beast Boy's kneading fingers released her as he stepped back, she smiled at him, and he smiled back; it was different from his old smile, older, she thought, but there was something else too.

Cyborg came forward and knocked her arm with his fist, teasing smile playing off the rise of his brow. She giggled and lugged him right back. "Welcome back, little lady."

"Good to be back, Cyborg."

"So," Robin stepped to the side, revealing a very different redhead from the one Terra knew, almost as though he'd stepped in front her her protectively. He might have, going by the exasperated shrug from the very slim, very casually dressed stranger. Jeans and a blue v-neck cotton shirt weren't exactly what she expected from a Teen Titan's wardrobe, but she wasn't one to judge. She turned her attention back to Robin, who had approached her with all the stern leader-ness she remembered, though he looked somewhat suspicious. She couldn't blame him, the last time she showed up at the tower without warning, she hadn't exactly been pursuing a career of altruism. "Does this mean you're back? For good?" One half of his mask got bigger, a sign he'd squinted at her with one eye.

Terra chuckled and rubbed at her arm, casting a side glance at Beast Boy, who realized why exactly she was looking to him and smiled. "Yeah sure, if you'll have me?"

There was a dead silence for a few moments, lifeless enough that she had the sudden urge to clear her throat. She waited, glancing from Beast Boy to the floor, to her other side, then back to Robin through the heavy lilt of her lashes. His face was indifferent, lips in a thin line as he scrutinized her with his stare. The stranger behind him tried to peer over his shoulder, get a better look at what was going on. Terra tried to ignore her, she was only making the twist in her stomach a million times worse. She knew she messed up, that sacrificing herself didn't make up for everything she'd done, all the horrible things she'd said, things that were true enough to her friends to hurt, but never things she sincerely thought. She'd wanted to hurt them, and she'd done that. Now she had to figure out a way to undo all of it.

Then Robin smile, offered her a hand to shake. Startled, she froze, some part of her afraid he was messing with her, but Robin would never. Slowly, she reached out and grabbed him; he shook their hands. "Welcome back, Terra."

Shopping was not her scene. Starfire knew this, and yet there they were, scouring a maternity store for a bra that would fit properly. She'd wanted to go alone, hoped she'd be less conspicuous if she kept to herself, dressed in civilian clothes, but Starfire didn't allow it. "Friend Raven, I am most concerned about the safety of both you and your unborn snarglpref! What would happen should a villain recognize you while you were on your own? I cannot allow it!"

Despite the eccentric wording, she supposed Starfire had a point.

The teenager at the counter seemed unbothered as she rang up the various bras and matching underwear, hardly sparing herself and Starfire a look as she slipped each item into the plastic bags. "Your total is $41.89."

Starfire reached into her new purse- tiny, lavender, with embroidered flowers detailing the flap- and handed the clerk the change. "Friend Raven, are you feeling unwell?"

"What? No, Star, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Apologies, you just look… paler than a Centari Mandra."

"A what?"

"You look unwell."

Raven sighed. "Probably just the baby messing with my skin, is all." She felt fine, not even a headache from the extra bouts of emotion her little one seemed to drink in. Baby had been quiet all day, let her eat without throwing up, didn't make her cry or tear the air conditioner from the wall, so she was actually in a better place today than she usually was. Even Starfire had noticed the small smile on her face as they'd ordered their coffee and tea when they'd dropped by her workplace to pick up her check earlier. Today had been a good day.

Starfire mulled over her response, contemplating whether or not to believe her. She shrugged, ultimately deciding that it must not have been worth talking about if Raven wasn't concerned. The clerk handed them their bags, and they carried on to the next store. Starfire had been looking to indulge in some new nail polishes, and Raven planned on roaming around the spiritual store next door, maybe pick up some incense and see if the baby liked the smell. She hadn't burned any since she'd left the tower, but the growing unease, caused by the life conorting her emotions inside of her, was enough to make her consider something a little more drastic than meditation. She skimmed the rows of trinkets, books for light-reading, and walls of hats and beads and dreamcatchers, pausing at the boxes of incense. She plucked a box from the shelf. She made her way to the front after a few more minutes of wandering the small box of a store, placing the incense on the table. The guy at the counter was much friendlier than the girl in the maternity shop had been, and he smiled at her as their eyes met. It might have helped that she'd been a regular here before she'd left the tower. The television, small and cheap and hanging from the wall of the store, was turned to the news, left playing in the background as they struck up conversation. "Your usual?"

"I'm not feeling…" she nearly raised a hand to her stomach, but shook her head. She didn't want it getting out that she was pregnant. Not yet "... adventurous."

"Hey, you know I don't judge." He waved one hand aimlessly in the air, using the other to swipe the barcode across the register. "Ya know, I don't think I've ever seen you out of uniform."

Raven raised an eyebrow. She'd hoped that wear a cardigan, long and black like her robe, would suffice, that she wouldn't have to deal much with the odd sensation of jeans on her legs, or the thin long-sleeved top she'd bought when her uniform had grown uncomfortably tight around her midsection. She'd hoped nobody would notice the change. "I think I'm" her eye twitched "outgrowing my uniform."

She handed him the cash, which he accepted with a cheeky grin, especially after she told him to keep the change.

"Once again, Jump City's very own Teen Titans have saved the city!" She gasped, turned to the tv to see Cinderblock on the move again, fresh out of jail. She could see her friends, see the procedures she'd come to know so well she could feel her muscles aching to move to join, to help. She reached one hand to her communicator, surprised that it hadn't rung. The fight was over before she could even register Beast Boy's T-Rex hauling into Cinderblock, or hear the burst of Cyborg's canon. The camera was full of dust, full of debris, and smudged with mud, but she could still see them, still see her family. Robin and Cyborg fist-bumped, all grins and confidence. A familiar woman strayed not too far behind, winding up what appeared to be a grappling hook, similar to Robin's. She wore a mask- Robin's mask- but she recognized the hair. Tangled limbs, lips against skin, Starfire's tears. Rage sizzled somewhere inside Nevermore, and Raven felt somewhat less inclined to hold her back.

But then her eyes landed on Beast Boy, who'd jogged into the shot shortly after he'd morphed back into himself. He was all grins and fangs, looking pumped to have been in a fight again after what Raven assumed had been a quiet three months, since she and Starfire hadn't gotten any emergency calls from Robin. Now though, she wasn't so sure. The stranger set her arm on Robin's shoulder, propped against him like he was a wall as she- well, Raven wasn't quite sure. Was she encouraging Beast Boy?

Seemed like it, because his eyes grew three times their size before he very clearly made a poorly-timed joke (or just a bad joke in general), and she watched as the other three hero's faces clenched in disgust or aged prematurely by twenty years. Affection piped up from her corner of Nevermore, egged on by Happy and only restrained by Timid. She couldn't help it, she smiled. Despite everything, despite another woman's name, despite the child that became more alive with every passing day, Affection had never quite let go of Beast Boy, and she wasn't sure she wanted her to. His smile was still big, still bright, still as boyishly handsome as it always had been, as she'd let herself acknowledge it as when she kissed him the first time. She raised two timorous fingers to her lips, hoping to recreate the pressure of him devouring her heart, but she found them a poor substitute.

Beast Boy laughed, the kind of laugh where he had to hold his sides, where he doubled over at his own stupid joke, and she at once missed him so that it swallowed her soul completely. Baby squeezed her heart, or maybe it was Affection; she swallowed. Maybe this had all been a mistake, maybe she was wrong to leave, wrong to keep this from him. He'd be scared, of course he would, but she was every bit as terrified, and what were they together for if not to support each other when the world was crashing down around them? She'd let her insecurities, maybe hormones, get in the way of reason. That'd been wrong. Beast Boy deserved to know. This was her child; this was his child. She raised her other hand to grace her swelling stomach.

And then there was a flash of blonde, and her revelation went as quickly as it'd come, but tore into her with such ferocity she thought it would have been better to never have had an epiphany at all. Terra herself, alive, wide-eyed, beautiful, she came flying over on a small slab of rock, then landed next to Beast Boy with all the grace of a classic woman. She slugged Beast Boy in the shoulder, and he grinned from ear-to-ear and slugged her back. Timid cried out, look at them, he's still in love with her. Does that mean he never loved us? Reason tried to step in (it was a friendly gesture-) but Sorrow screamed over her (look at their eyes, look at the way he's smiling, he doesn't miss us at all, this child is a bastard like us) and Rage rumbled beneath the surface (we had a purpose, our child does not, and that makes this so much worse than it already was).

The ball of glass, filled with colors and shapes that mirrored sunsets and twilight skies, stable on a podium by the front of the store, shattered in black aura. Her breath hitched, and she realized once again that she was crying. Reason spoke out, momentarily calming the other voices, though they continued to rage inside her mind. This is not the place to cry. Find Starfire and phase home. She took her incense and left without so much as a parting word to the clerk, who watched her with wide, panicked eyes as she fled the store. Had she stuck around, she might have seen the concern in them.

Perhaps that was why she'd looked unwell. She folded her cardigan over herself and rubbed slow circles into her stomach. Perhaps the baby had known what was coming…

Starfire tucked the blankets over Raven's trembling figure, brushing the strands of hair that'd fallen into her face. Streaks, still wet, still fresh, coated her cheeks like the lines on a paved road. She grimaced, pulling away to rotate her arm where Raven had clung to her as she'd sobbed. It was sore, no doubt bruised from the strength she doubted Raven normally had, but grief did funny things to people. Raven trembled under the covers, but she knew it would be a few hours before she joined the land of the living once more. Crying your eyes out for hours at a time, especially at the month of pregnancy where fatigue begins to set in, was a good way to ensure a long, dreamless sleep. She frowned and turned on their tv, careful to mute it so as to not disturb her now unconscious friend.

It was as Raven said; Terra was back, and the woman in Robin's bed was still there.

Her heart broke all over again.

For herself, for Raven, for the home she was starting to suspect they could not return to for a long time…

That woman, the one he'd let into his bed, the one she saw in her dreams, making Robin putty in her hands, pleasing him; she could never hear her name on the nights her mind graced her with such heartwrenchingly raunchy visions, but she could hear the desperation in Robin's voice, feel the euphoria he never gave her the opportunity to provide. That woman was still there, still smiling at him, still on his arm, and she felt no better once she saw the beautiful blue of her eyes. No wonder Robin had been captivated, she could see even the proudest of warriors submitting to her allure. She just never thought that he'd do so without so much as a goodbye.

Her eyes were burning, and she squeezed them shut as the tears started. She'd stayed strong as Raven wept, because she was an empath, because crying too would make things worse, but now Raven was asleep, and she could let it all out so long as she stayed silent. Her legs curled to her chest, and she wrapped her arms around them and dug her head into her knees, biting her lip to keep the whimpering at a low. Robin's hands cupping her own. Robin's boyish smile. Robin holding her face, pulling her into him, hands in her hand, lips pressed so sweetly to her own. The way he said her name, the comfort he brought her. She knew it was gone, it was all gone, so far behind her now that she couldn't even touch it, touch him. She loved him, she loved him so much, why had it ended this way, why could they not last, why could she not stay forever in his arms, kiss him, adore him, stay with him?

She thought he loved her.

She'd been wrong about that.

When Raven woke up, her eyes felt as crusty as sand, like somebody had taken a handful of glue and glitter and held both to her eyelids until they were heavy and thick with sleep. Her body, she noticed as she tried to sit up, was numb with sleep, like she'd exhausted every limb. She shook it off- must have been the fatigue, or the hours of crying. She made a note to threaten Starfire's life should she ever tell anyone she'd acted so emotional. It was out of character, though she supposed so was getting pregnant. She sat up and yawned. "Starfire, it's getting late, you should turn the tv off and get some sleep." There was no response.

Raven looked over her shoulder. "Star, did you hear what I-?" The bed was empty, still made from this morning, though the edge of the foot of the bed seemed to have been lounged on. She raised an eyebrow. "Starfire?" She glanced to the bathroom, but the door was wide open, and there wasn't a sound to go by- running water, singing, footsteps- anything. A quick glance at the clock told her that she hadn't slept well into the next morning, because it was only two in the morning. A quick glance at the door confirmed that. Raven slid out of bed, raising an eyebrow. "Where in the world could you have possibly gone at two in freaking morning…" Her normal monotone was back, and she was thankful for that. Normalcy was what she needed right now, before the baby realized she was awake.

It'd taken her a few minutes to track Starfire's location, and a generous walk to what appeared to be some docks, but any upset that had started in her stomach had been quelled upon seeing Starfire sitting at the very edge of the docks. I get it, Baby, you like Starfire. I do too, that's why we keep her around. "Couldn't sleep?"

If Starfire was startled by her sudden company, she didn't show it. "No, I am afraid I could not."

Raven took a seat next to her. "Wanna talk about it?"

Starfire sighed, swinging her legs limply over the side of the dock, tips of her shoes brushing the edge of the water, creating ripples where she moved. Raven dangled her legs over the side in solidarity, though her own were far too short to reach the tides below. "I used to think Robin and I were destined to be together…"

"I know the feeling."

"I just-" Starfire grinded her teeth, and in the light of the moon she could see the glossy finish of her eyes "I do not understand why Robin would commit the act of infidelity! He has always been the stickler and the strict follower of the rules, and that is the biggest of them all!"

Raven shrugged. "Well Star, sometimes we're wrong about people. Sometimes we trust them more than we should. It's part of being human."

"But I am not human." Starfire looked at her, glassy eyes filled with defiance, but desperation despite the instinct. "Raven, you can feel the emotions of others, can you not? Did Robin…" She glanced back down at the water, the way her boots graced the small waves "...Did Robin ever truly love me?"

Raven sighed. "I couldn't tell you, Star. He made me promise to never use my abilities on him, and I never saw much of a reason to," until now. Starfire whimpered, pulling her legs up with her arms, digging her chin into the crook between her knees. Raven's heart broke for the second time that day, watching her process, fully, what Robin had done. "Do you think he did?"

"...I do not think so, and I am starting to fear that I am correct."

Raven wasn't much for physical affection, and maybe it was the baby (which she'd blame it on later), or maybe it was the three months of confinement to close quarters with the most physically affectionate alien on the planet, but she wrapped an arm around Starfire and pulled her into an awkward side-hug. "There, uh, there…" she tried to comfort her. If Starfire was put off, once again, she didn't show it, must have been a pretty good actress. She turned her head into Raven's shoulder and cried.

They sat there for awhile, Raven wasn't sure how long. The moon had inched further into the sky, the sounds of cars nearby came and went, men on their way home to their families, children on their way home for the summer. These were things the two of them may never have. Starfire's tears had ceased, her breathing had returned to normal, but the comfort of their embrace far outlasted the original empathetic purpose. They both needed it, support. They could not find it where it should have been, and would not find it elsewhere, so they would work with what they had as they always have.

"Aw, am I interrupting something?"

How had she not felt him? Raven and Starfire pulled away, whipping to find a shadow standing atop the warehouse behind them. There was a cape they could make out, confidence (borderline narcissism), humor in his stance. They both blinked and stood. Starfire used the adrenaline spike to call on a starbolt, and held it up in the air with the hopes they could see the intruder better. It made no difference.

He laughed. "Don't recognize me? Can't tell by my voice?" He leaped from the roof in a surprising display of acrobatics, landing a few feet before them without so much as a grunt. They both went to take a step back, only to feel their heels edging off of the side of the dock. They glanced back to the waters, once calming before, now cold and beckoning. "Now now, ladies, don't go taking a dip just yet." Starfire raised the bolt higher, in warning. He took it in stride. One shadowed hand raised an amulet, red and glittering in the moonlight, round and regal from the gold chain it hung from. "You've gotta make an attempt to beat this off me, don't ya?"

Only a foot away then, and Red X was still moving closer.

#Teen Titans #Robstar #BBrae #Robin #Starfire #Raven #Beast Boy #Cyborg #Terra #Barbara Gordon

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jennsmischievousmind · 6 years

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A perfect fit (part 4)

Summary : James Buchanan Barnes stumbles upon you, a lady that got him wrapped around her finger.

Warning/s: smut. If you’re under 18 please don’t read this.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader; Steve Rogers x reader (platonic)

Words: 3,130

Tags : @rodkrake @kaffekanden @namiiswan @destielinamoose @slender--spirit @townmoondaltwistle

A/N : English is not my native language … yeah coz writing smut in french sucks sometimes so excuse my rough english and typos.

In the idea that Bucky and Steve came back to Brooklyn after the war and never went near a freaking train. It’s a pretty long one so I’ll do parts.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 (end)

"It's okay Buck, come with me." you whispered. You passed by Steve and kissed his cheek.

"Welcome back Cap, thank you!" he smiled and salute you.

The Howling Commandos watched as you pass by them followed by Bucky at the end of your arm, some howled. You glanced at Bucky whom sheepishly look at you, somehow sorry for how the commando was behaving. You’ll let that pass for tonight, all you had in mind was bringing Sergeant Barnes home.

All the way to your place Bucky never released your waist, each time you had to stop at the crossroad, he would nuzzle his face in your hair, not saying a word just enjoying your scent and your presence.

You opened your door, throwing your purse on the couch you head to the bathroom. When you came back a minute later, Bucky was there sat on the couch back side. You reached for him and embraced him, the tip of his nose in the nook of your neck, he hugged you so tight. You felt your top dampening, when you understood you were already sobbing with him, James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t the type of patriarchal guy who hides his feelings to stay in the manly club, but to make him cry like that, you couldn’t even imagine what it was back there. You hugged him tighter at the thought.

"I've missed you." he finally said, before looking at you.

You caressed his hair for a few minutes silently. He stared at you like it was the first time he saw you. You could see a part of the Bucky you had met was gone at this moment, the war had changed him and it broke your heart, he used to be such a chatty handsy charmer and here he was silent and so vulnerable.

You led him to the bath, the air was warm, a light fog enveloping you both. You turned around, when he saw the bath he let out a little sigh of pleasure.

“Loosen up baby” you said starting to unbutton his military coat, kissing his cheek you put the coat on your arm and left him to get change.

When you came back you were wearing in a white silk night gown. Bucky was sat in the bath, his head backwards, eyes closed. You get on your knees next to the bath, reaching the bath cloth and the soap lathering it in your hands. Then you caressed his left arm, he slightly jumped then relaxed immediately when he saw you.

"Let me." you said gently, he smiled sitting up, his back facing you. You washed his arms smoothly, caressed his back and planted soft kisses on his neck. Your left hand roamed on his chest followed by the cloth, strands of your hair falling over his shoulders, your bosoms pressing lightly on his back as you leaned over to wash his chest. He stayed silent, eyes closed you could only hear his breathing getting heavier.

You dropped the cloth, your right hand going further in the water following Bucky's abs, his happy trail leading you to his shaft, as soon as your hand wrapped around him, Bucky gasped, grasping the sides of the bath.

Still kissing his neck, you start pumping him slowly but firmly, your thumb brushing the tip making him tightened his grip on the bath, he groaned as you pumped him faster, your other hand plunge in the water and gently fondled his balls.

"Doll!" he groaned and totally lose it, he came in the water. His head fell back on your shoulder, he was breathing heavily and so were you, seeing him coming undone and the look on his face made you hope that even for a moment he forgot everything bad he went through this past few months.

You let him dry himself while you where in the bedroom preparing your clothes for tomorrow. He went in only wearing shorts although you had give him a top with it. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you picking up some outfits.

"Come here Y/N." he suddenly spoke. You walked to him as he reached for your waist, his arms wrapping around you as you stand between his legs, he rested his head on your tummy.

Your fingers going through his damp, disheveled hair. Sighing multiple times he finally lifted his head, his chin on your navel. You leaned in and pecked his lips.

"You have to sleep M.Barnes." He nodded and went under the cover while you checked if you had close the door and switch off the lights, when you came back he was already drowsing out, quietly getting in bed you felt him reaching for you, your back on his chest, he let out a sigh that said it all. Your hands caressed his arms encircling your waist, it felt so wonderful to have him next to you at last.

In the middle of the night you felt the mattress moved unusually. You opened your eyes to found him sitting on his side of the bed.

"Bucky?" you whispered. He turned around surprise.

"Sorry doll, I didn't mean to wake you." He laid back, facing you, you felt something was odd so you just opened your arms, he shoved his head on your chest resting his face just above your breasts, his arms wrapping around your warmed body.

The next morning you woke up with Bucky holding you, as much as you wanted to stay in bed with him you had to go to work, you wriggled out of his hold without waking him.

You made breakfast, some eggs on toast with some bacon. On your way to the bathroom you picked in your bedroom to check on Bucky, he was still asleep, you smiled as his face was so relaxed.

You grabbed your towel and exit the shower. Gasping at Bucky who was standing right there in all his morning glory.

"God Bucky, you scared me!"

He chuckled "Sorry!" his hands snaked around your waist, as yours rest on his biceps. He started kissing your neck, your skin prickling at his touch, his sudden ‘recovery’ made you weak at the knees in a matter of seconds.

"Don't..don't you want to eat breakfast.." you said absolutely not convincing.

"Oh doll, I know exactly what I want to relish right now.." his lips brushed your ear lobe making you quiver.

He seized the towel and let it fall from your body to the ground, revealing your naked body to him, he couldn't stop staring making you shiver under his gaze. It was the first time that you felt so vulnerable since he left, his body warm radiating as he leaned on you, your breath accelerating as he kissed his way down, gently nibbling on your bosoms, when he did he suddenly shivered, breathing warm hair on your nipples putting his forehead on your breasts your hands cupped the nape of his neck. He had miss your body as much as you missed his, and it was so exquisite that he had trouble coping.

He resumed his sweet attentions. His hands on your rib cage tickling you in a pleasant way, he knelt down, fingers caressing your skin till it finds your buttocks that he fondled, circling your navel with kisses, he tightened his grip around your legs. His thumbs rubbing soft circles in the inner of your tights dangerously close to your intimate parts. You took a deep breath when his left hand went to your ankle, making his way up caressing your skin to your knee, he lifted it on is shoulder. He peppered kiss the flesh on the way to your womanhood. Your mind was blank, enjoying every of his gentle touches.

His thin delicate lips pecked your sex and you moaned jolting, gripping the towel rack. His tongue slowly moved beyond the folds, building you up, going further in following every of your moan. None of his fingers went near your intimate part, he was undoing you only with his tongue, you had almost forget the feeling of this wave of pleasure growing inside. Hands gripping at his silky hair, struggling to keep still, Bucky felt you were on the edge so his lips closed around the bundle of nerves and you came undone, moaning loudly, he sucked on it drawing out your orgasm.

With a final kiss, he stood up, drying his mouth with a towel before kissing you passionately, tasting yourself on his tongue, you eyes still closed. He pressed you on the sink, you felt his arousal on your tummy, desire flowed through your body, both of you wanted more, but not now though.

One cannot break away from James Buchanan Barnes so easily, he followed you to the bedroom, getting in your way as you tried to dress up, you sighed at yourself trying hard to resist him, the store could not open without you and customers hearing you moan was not a good idea for business.

"Wearing a dress today?” he asked surprised, he must have seen you in a dress like less than a dozen times.

“Why? You don't like it?” you look at yourself, swirling the fabric.

He went to you “Oh no doll, I love it that's the problem, you're lovely, but I have to tell you, his right hand went up your thigh lifting your dress, I'd rather keep you undress.”

The muscle between your legs clenched, good lord that man was trouble! You had your way to make him beg for your body, but he definitely had his too!

He gave up with one condition.

"Make sure to come up immediately after work, I'll ..." he whispered in your ear everything he wanted to do to you, resulting in you blushing hard and whimpering as he nibbled on your lobe.

You pushed by a chuckling Bucky, as you reached the door he pinned you on it, his all body pressing against yours, his warm breath fanning against your cheekbones, his fine lips found yours, deepening the kiss, his hands cupping your face.

"I love you Y/N!" he murmured against your lips.

Your lips then moved to his cheek, leaving trails of sweet kisses to his temple. Pressing gently your soft lips on his eyelids he let out the tension in his shoulders, relaxing in your touch, he was still in recovery even if his needs were real, this tension was a reminder that he was still damaged and much more vulnerable than you thought. After a long hug, you let him get ready as he was supposed to meet Steve at his place.

Finally getting downstairs, Oliver was already there.

“Good morning boss!” Oliver greeted you, yawning right after.

“Good it is, indeed.” your fingers drummed on the desk before swiftly putting your measuring tape around your neck.

“Someone had fun.” Oliver wriggled his eyebrows, joining you at the desk.

“You can talk! I saw you last night, in the company of a young man!” you're the one wriggling your eyebrows at him this time.

“He was really .. ardent! he shuddered, “you?”

You grinned. “He was..he is, you leaned on the desk, devoted!”

Oliver let you in your reverie and went to the front door, putting up the OPEN sign, arranging the cuff links and ties.

You were now storing new pants then Bucky appeared beside you, thinking of what he said earlier about what he had in mind for you, you bit your lip, his pupils getting wider as he saw you do so, yours were probably black with lust at this point. Snaking his harm around your waist, he leaned in kissing you fervently, your nails scraping his scalp it made him shivered, he slightly spanked your butt eliciting a little moan from you.

"James Buchanan Barnes you are trouble. And I love you!" His face lightening up, you saw a glint in his eyes before he smirked, grabbing one of your butt cheek while kissing you, you chuckled swatting his hand from your buttocks.

"Go away troublemaker, I got work to do!" He winked and salute Oliver on his way out.

Oliver was back at the desk, arms crossed, staring at you. You shrugged at him.

"Naughty boss!" He shook his head grabbing some hangers.

Bucky came back around 6pm when you were about to close the store, before you could say anything, Bucky had you stuck between him and the main desk. His lips on yours, needy almost desperate, he caught your legs and made you jump on the edge of the desk, encircling his waist with your legs you brought him closer grabbing the lapels of his jacket. He cupped your face, gently sweeping your hair behind your ears, you pulled back a brief second looking deeply into his eyes, it killed him, it made him want to kiss you even more, unable to be separated from your lips for a second longer. His hands reclaiming your entire body, caressing the small of your back to your waist then he caught the hem of your dress inching it up your legs. Having trouble with his shirt’s buttons you yanked it open, the buttons flying on the floor.

"Someone's eager." He said chuckling between kisses.

"Lil reminder, you just pinned me on the desk James Barnes!" you punched his chest lightly.

"Well, I need my girl to feel how much I missed her!" At these words you shivered, oh good lord you couldn’t wait.

He bit on your jawline, then your neck sucking on the skin, you were pretty sure to have a bruise later on. His hands going further up you thighs, you were breathing heavily at his touch, your own hands scratching his back.

“Oh my goodness me!!” You both startled at Oliver's voice. His shock face quickly transforming into a smirk.

"Don't mind me, sweethearts, I'll .. see myself out!” He took his coat and with an acute voice said “Have fun!” making sure to put the CLOSED sign before leaving. You both shrugged.

“We won't make it upstairs, won't we!?” you asked cocking an eyebrow at him.

“I’m afraid so doll!” he answered smirking like the devil, you rolled your eyes at him as he chuckled.

Your hands roamed on his chest, removing his shirt, you admire his perfect bust, he looked down at your fingers tracing their way down his chest, stopping at edge of his pants. He let you in charge, you kissed his chest, up his neck, your hand dragged lower, along his front tracing the length of his hard cock through the fabric. He inhaled, his hands on your thighs tightening, still kissing his neck and collarbone you unfastened his trousers, slipping your hand in his shorts, feeling his hard swollen cock. He cursed under his breath, as you stroke him. When he regained a bit of control, his hand went up cupping your sex through you panties, he immediately pushed aside the fabric caressing your wet folds, you sucked in a sharp breath when he inserted two fingers in you.

“Bucky I can’t wait no more!” grabbing the back of his neck, you crashed your lips against his. He discarded your panty after removing his own underwear. He grabbed your thighs once more, sliding you on the edge of the desk, Bucky standing at attention between your legs. He kissed you hard, grabbing his shaft, he finally buried himself inside you, both sighing at the sensation, that feeling of being complete that both of you missed so much. None of you could find the words. His fingers pressed into your flesh, he pulled back his length almost completely and slowly pushed back in, you both moaned, your head lolling back.

He started thrusting trying his best not be too impatient but your constant moans and praises had him mesmerized. Leaning on the desk, you fumble with the buttons of your dress, the sleeves sliding down your arms, Bucky groaned as you revealed your bra less breasts, you had remove the uncomfortable fabric earlier today.

"You are one of a kind Y/N!" He mused, one of his strong, rough hand skimming your body until he got a good gentle grip on your breast, his thumb playing with your perky bud. You arched at his touch and as he fasten his pace, feeling you were at the rim, he pulled back his shaft leaving you hollow, he smirked at your furrowing brows. Grabbing your waist he helped you get down the desk and spun you around, caressing your buttocks while kissing the back of your neck, he then staved into you, your fingers intertwined with his on your hip, the other grabbed a hold of his muscular ass, contracting at each thrust. He was needy but not rough, his arms trapped your body against him, his biceps pressing against your bosoms, a hand on your neck, he kept you still from writhing under the pleasure he was giving you, he suddenly smacked your butt cheek eliciting a louder moan from you both as you clenched around him. His thrusts became uneven as he was about to lose it, you tightened your grip on his biceps. He let out a guttural moan as he released himself inside you, you followed closely crying out.

Both panting, you winced as he removed himself from you, already missing the feeling. Facing him you stand on your tiptoes, your fingers caressing his jawline beckoning him forward, he obliged, keeping a finger under his chin you kissed him passionately. He embraced your body, his warm sweaty skin against yours feeling so right.

The fact of having you naked in his arms made him realize that he had really returned from this hell that was war, and that was the most beautiful feeling ever.

“We should maybe, go upstairs.” he breathed against your temple.

“Maybe...” you caught his lips in a searing kiss, caressing the nape of his neck.

You barely made it upstairs, until you pushed him on the bed, he quickly took over, binding your hands with his above your head as he kissed you over and over, grinding his erect member against your sensitive part. Your bodies tangled, as you made each other feel the love you had for one another.

The next day you were having a coffee break at noon with Oliver, around the fabrics table, you saw him staring at you from across it.

You put down your mug “What?”

“Nothing, just ... did you wipe the desk?” he snorted.

You threw him a piece of fabric.

“Of course I did! But hey I guess we’re even.” you took a sip while he looked at you wondering.

“Remember Samuel? In the fitting room?” you pursed your lips, leaning on your fist.

“Oh! .. right.” he blushed and played with a piece of fabric.

“Yeah.That time.” You nodded smiling at his blushing face while drinking your coffee.

Part 5

#40s bucky #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #smut #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #feminist reader #captain america x reader #40s!bucky #bucky barnes smut #pre war bucky #post war bucky #jennfic #a perfect fit

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amaviarra · 6 years

Text

Fated- PT.1

A/N- not sure how long this will be or when it'll be updated but I'll aim for once a week.

Pairing- Loki/reader

I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors. Writing this on my phone.

PT 2

PT.3

Loki wasn't sure why he was here, the remains on what use to be a lush forest that was hidden on asgard. It had been his favorite place to come to as a child, a place he could get away from Thor, from his father, from all of his troubles.

It had been the place where he had met you. A unique being, a creature of mischief most of the time that could take on a humanoid form as you pleased. A small smirk formed as he remembered the first time you had transformed. Your human form wasn't perfect, your animal tail and ears remained. He remembered the blush that formed on your cheeks as he mocked your flawed transformation and how a second later you had went back to your natural form and pounced on him. Your mischevious voice entering his thoughts "Come Loki, turn into your animal self. Let's play"

It was the only time he would let himself go, the only time he could be truly himself.

As he looked around the barren land around him, his memories took a darker turn and he closed his eyes. Hoping to block out the memory of that day but it was of no use.

Loki ran through the thick foliage that lead to his secret forest. He was excited, to see you and teach you what he had been taught today. A new trick he was sure you would love.

As he neared the area he knew you would be he stilled, dread feeling him. Unsure why he was feeling this way he continued at a slow and cautious pace. The closer he got, the heavier his stomach felt and then he heard it. Yelps. Panicked thoughts. And finally the laughter. It was cynical.

He continued forward and once he came to a clearing he wished he hadn't come. There standing in the middle was his father, Odin, along with his father's hunters. His wide eyes drifted to the ground and he felt himself become sick. On the ground was your clan, lifeless.

"W-why?" Was all he could say. Barely a whisper.

His father had turned toward him then, a proud smile on his face "Ah Loki son, i must thank you for leading us here. We have been looking for these creatures for a long time and we wouldn't have been able to find them if you hadn't come here so -"

He didn't wait for his father to finish. He couldnt stand there looking at your clan, your family, who had shown him so much love and acceptance dead. So he ran.

That was the first and last time Loki had ran. It was also when his mistrust for his father began. He never went back there, at least not until today.

He had felt a pull that had lead him here. Curious being that he was he followed it. But why here? He wasn't sure, this whole area was dead now. No longer thriving from the energy your clan had given it.

He stiffened as he felt it. A sudden surge of energy. He glanced around the area, searching for source. A few moments passed before he felt it again. With this pulse He could track where it was coming from. Within moments he was at the source and his eyes widened in surprise.

A vixen. A creature of the clan the resided here rested in amber. It was an adult, that he knew. But how? He was sure they had all perished. Walking forward, his fingers touched the amber and he felt the energy pulse again, this time flowing right through him. It couldn't be, he thought. His gaze trailing up until it stopped at the vixens face. He stepped back in surprise as his gaze came to meet Y/E/C.

"Y-Y/N?"

* * *

You weren't sure what you would find when you woke from your slumber. But you hadn't been expecting your child hood friend, nor had you been expecting him to now be an adult.

Although you were still surronded by the protective amber you could hear him as he called your name, you only hoped that he could hear you in response.

"Loki?"

You watched as his eyes widened even further then they had been. You felt amusement, knowing that he could hear you telepathically you continued "Wait for me Loki, I should be out soon"

His only response was a nod. Loki, from what you remembered, had never been shocked into silence before. But then it was obvious that time had passed, so maybe he had changed. You could only hope he hadn't changed that much.

Closing your eyes you focused, on your surroundings and the amber that held you. You released your energy once more and then pulled it back in. Feeling the amber weaken at the action, you continued to do it until you were able to move. Bit by bit you slowly freed yourself from the amber.

Once you were free you stepped over the remaining amber, lengthing your spine you stretched. Feeling relief in your muscles and bones from the action.

You made your way over to Loki, who was watching you curiously. Once you got close enough, he dropped down to his knees and held out a trembling hand. Slowly his fingers carassed your fur and you closed your eyes in contentment.

"I thought you had died. With the rest of your clan"

Loki's words made you open your eyes, you noted the sadness in his eyes and shook your head the seer saw it you replied, seeing his curious expression you continued she knew your father would discover and kill the clan. It was agreed that they would hide me in the amber, she said i needed to live.

Loki frowned "if she saw why didn't she send me away? Tell me to stop coming, why didnt you all relocate I-"

You didn't let him finish, instead you got closer and nuzzled his face. It was meant to he Loki. We cannot stop fate once it has started to turn, the clan knew of their fate. No one blamed you.

He sighed, resting his forehead to yours for a few moments before pulling back. He stood and looked around the clearing, noting that your energy had started to bloom life once again. "We can't stay here, i won't risk my father finding you"

"Where will we go?"

He looked at you, a frown coming to his lips. "We shall go to Midgard. We will stay with the imbeciles."

"The imbeciles?" You questioned with an amused huff.

Loki smirked as he urged you to follow "Yes, though they call themselves the avengers. With them is the biggest imbecile of all, Thor"

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson

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kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 6 years

Text

Death’s Door

[FF.Net Link] [AO3 Link]

Word Count: 5600+ (oneshot)

Genre: Horror/Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Cinder Fall, OC, Salem, Arthur Watts

Summary: For Cinder, even death is not the end. But she might have been luckier to fade into oblivion after all.

Warnings for body horror and medical horror.

~0~

“The ill and dying are said to have the most beautiful dreams.”

- Eternal Sonata

~0~

Cinder falls.

It’s different than her last defeat, on Beacon Tower. Everything then had happened so fast that she hadn’t been able to process a thing; even the mind-bending pain is a distant and faded memory to her. Now, the world stops, time slows, and she feels every little sensation with a white-hot intensity: the stinging electricity running serpentine through her head and neck, the sudden freezing air on her exposed scar and socket, and worst of all, the mounting terror flooding her mind that no amount of shock or adrenaline can block out.

She’s too stunned to flail or twist in the air, or even to cry out. But in the next second, that doesn’t matter one bit. All she can do is watch as Raven Branwen, eyes flaming and expression vengeful, raises her hand and brings the bright blue glow of magic to her palm. And as it flashes, her body burns once again. She’d had a moment to turn away and shield at least half of herself from Ruby’s silver light, but Raven’s ice spreads in half a second. Out from her chest, over her skin, in through her very flesh, until she’s frozen solid, her face forced into a horrified stare and every cell in her body gripped by the cold and howling for release.

It doesn’t come. Her fire is extinguished, unreachable. Raven, the vault’s golden leaves, its pale blue light...Everything blurs away in an instant as she drops into darkness.

She has no idea how long she falls for, no idea how big the chasm is or what may be waiting for her at the bottom. She wonders wildly if there even is a bottom. Yet again, she can’t see, can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t even think. There is nothing else. Her world is quickly narrowed into heavy, shapeless blackness rushing past her, the ice creeping through her veins and numbing her body and mind, and fear, fear, begging, pleading, overpowering fear as she plummets down and down and down --

And then finally, without warning, she crashes.

Despite the size of the chasm -- or, perhaps, because of it -- the shattering of ice and bones does not echo; it is small and insignificant. The impact is shockingly painful, a bright and fierce agony that bursts through her whole being. Out of nowhere, she remembers being very young, the first time she’d gotten the wind knocked out of her. She’d been running too fast, tripped over something in her path and landed hard, stomach-first into a fallen log. It hadn’t actually hurt, but she’d been so shocked and frightened at suddenly not being able to breathe that as soon as she could she had screamed as if in pain. If he was around, her father would have come running, on hearing his normally resilient child make such a noise, but nobody had come, he hadn’t been there, why was he always gone?!

Cinder doesn’t -- can’t -- remember. Her mind, her body, it’s all a mess. All she knows now is that same gut-wrenching helplessness, magnified a thousandfold. She tries to look around, but everything is dark and everything is spinning, and she has no idea where she is...or, for that matter, what sort of state she herself is in. She tries to get up, to lift her head or hand at the very least. But she can’t even feel her body, let alone make it move. The silence in her ears is the most piercing she has ever heard. She knows her heart must be pounding but can’t quite feel it, and that only alarms her more. She cannot form coherent thought; though she tries to, desperate to hang on to anything solid and grounding, the pain is only heightening and it’s impossible. It sickens her to her core to beg, but it’s just too much, she can’t do this again - !

Please...Somebody help me...Help me!

She doesn’t know how long she lays there in the darkness, broken and powerless and terrified. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours, it might have been days, until she hears it.

Click. Click. Click.

She knows she’s heard that sound before, but can’t quite tell where, and she can’t even begin to focus enough to figure it out.

Click. Click. Click.

It’s getting closer, she can tell that much. She tries to turn her neck to see where it’s coming from, but can’t move it one bit. Is she even in one piece anymore? She feels something drop in where she assumes her stomach is, when she realizes that she doesn’t know, but probably isn’t.

Click. Click...

All of a sudden there is something in front of her. She did not see it appear out of the darkness, and it takes her a moment to register it as something other than blurry colors. It’s black and -

(silver)

Gray. It’s gray and shiny, and...Heels. Tall boots, with steel soles and high heels, have stopped in front of her.

What? Who...?

When she manages to turn her eye up to see, she freezes again, this time in sheer disbelief. She has never known this woman; that much has always been clear, sharp as a shard of metal in her heart. But she recognizes that face looking down at her immediately. How many hours had she spent as a child, staring at grainy, worn old photographs, memorizing its every feature? Long hair, so fiery red it seems to glow even in this absolute darkness. The deepest, warmest brown eyes she has ever seen. A face that looks exactly like hers...like hers used to, at least.

She finds that she still has a voice, albeit one as cracked and broken as her body, when she weakly bursts out, “M...M-Muh...Mother!”

Ember Fall smiles, but its fondness is offset by the sorrow in her eyes. She crouches down to get a better look at her daughter, and the long, slender sword at her hips and the black metal bow on her back clink faintly when she moves.

“That’s right. It’s been quite a while since we last met, hasn’t it?” she says airily, slipping off one metal-plated glove so she can cup Cinder’s scarred cheek. This hand has slaughtered gods-know-how-many people, in cold blood and burning rage, and this voice had been known for its venom and cutting words, not for kindness. But for her, they both are so tender that she’s almost shaking beneath them. “I’m sorry to say, my little devil, but you don’t look all that much better now than you did then.”

Normally, this would be prime opportunity for a quip about how Ember has no room to talk, she was the one who had died. But Cinder is still too stunned to do anything more than mumble and whimper as she stares up at her, trying to move closer to her and only succeeding in some painful squirming. All those nights curled up alone in the dark, wide awake and aching for her mother, knowing it was her own fault she would never see her...She’d long since forced herself to stop fantasizing about an impossible dream, that drew her focus away from the dreams she could grab hold of. So how could Ember be here now?

Ember’s smile fades at the pained noises, and she caresses her daughter’s face in a careful attempt to soothe. “I know, pretty girl, I know,” she coos. “Those worthless pieces of trash put you through the wringer back there, didn’t they? I’d kill them all myself if I could...But never mind that, I guess. It’s over now. I came to get you.”

To get me? Why? I was...

Cinder finds that it’s difficult to remember what exactly she had been doing, that it makes her head hurt even worse to even try. A low moan escapes her at the effort, and she unconsciously pushes harder into her mother’s hand.

“Shhh, you’re okay, come to me,” Ember murmurs, as she bends lower, slipping one arm under Cinder’s shoulders and the other under her legs -- all of which, Cinder is startled to realize, actually seem to be quite intact. (And even slightly movable, too -- where did the ice go?) Discounting the aid of her six-inch heels, Ember is quite small, and despite the valiant attempt at muscles from a lifetime of fighting and training, underneath her jacket she's just that bit too scrawny to be healthy. But she scoops up her daughter easily, as if she were light as a ragdoll, and holds her close. “There, I’ve got you now. Let’s get out of here, shall we? Disgusting place anyway.”

Without waiting for a response, Ember turns on her heel and starts to carry her off, back into the darkness. She seems perfectly content about what she’s doing, but Cinder finds herself completely at a loss as to what to think and what to do. In any case, this is her mother; so of course she must show respect. But more importantly, Ember’s arms around her are strong and safe...The sensation is so overwhelming that it just about crushes her lingering fear and confusion, slows down the gears in her head still frantically trying to piece together what’s happening.

“Ah...Ghh...” This place is so cold, but Ember is warm, like a candle in the darkness. Without thinking, she tries to turn her head and nuzzle into her chest. The pounding ache in her skull doesn’t matter, she just wants to get closer. “M-Mother...”

Ember says nothing, just runs gentle fingers through her hair. As badly as she wants to just sink into that comforting feeling and forget everything else, there’s an itch at the back of her mind that says that this is wrong. And despite her attempts to ignore it, she can’t help but notice what it’s trying to tell her.

She wouldn’t have been able to hear it clearly, anyway, with her burnt-up ear; but even with that side of her head pressed up against Ember’s chest, she can neither hear nor feel any hint of a heartbeat. Her own is just as unnervingly still and silent. The beaten black leather of the jacket against her skin seems to maintain its proper texture, but it lacks any distinctive scent. The same went for the curtain of red hair hanging near her face; her father had mentioned a few times how his wife usually had the scents of leather, hot metal, and cinnamon clinging to her, but none of those are present here.

And speaking of metal...She tries as best she can to glance over at her mother’s other hand, the one still clad in her custom-made glove: black leather, with thick plates of metal riveted to the back, palm, and knuckles. According to her father, Ember had had so much fun teaching herself to fight with them, using her Semblance to heat the plates and the heavy steel bars of her heels up white-hot to deliver truly devastating attacks. Cinder had loved the stories, and admired her mother’s style, not only for how creatively she utilized her Semblance but for how she had made sure that every single time she struck an opponent, she would leave a lasting mark, regardless of how hard the hit had been. (And of whether the metal was heated; the edges were razor-sharp, after all.) Everyone she touched would never forget her, would feel her in their flesh forever. She had liked the idea of that, very much.

But, she realizes, despite there only being a thin layer of fabric between them, she can’t feel the points or the chill of metal on her leg at all. And despite how tightly Ember is holding her, the older woman’s body feels...numb, somehow. As if...

No. No, that can’t be right, this is real and Ember is here. This place is not a dream, not an endless abyss, it’s just the bottom of the vault, she was --

The memories -- and the pain and clarity that come with them -- hit her as hard and as suddenly as a lightning bolt. Raven, the fall, the crash, she...She couldn’t have...!

“Mother...?” The word comes out so much smaller than she’d meant it to.

Ember looks down at her, and though Cinder can tell that she’s trying to conceal it, she seems distraught at her daughter’s tone. “Shh, hon. It’s all right, I promise -- ”

“Mother.” It’s stronger this time, punctuated with a nudge of her head against Ember’s shoulder. She does not look away from her mother’s eyes, as her insides go cold again. “I’m dead. She killed me.”

For once, she is hoping that she will be told that she’s wrong. But instead, Ember sighs heavily. “Yes. She did. How else did you think I could have found you?”

Her eye widens, though the shock is, surprisingly, muted. All her life, the thought of death had always --

(frightened her)

-- enraged her, had always been something she had fought viciously to keep at bay...And yet now, when it has finally caught her in its jaws, she can’t seem to feel anything at all. Truth be told, her mind still seems scrambled; try as she might to reach the memories of her life, they slip away like the last strands of a dream.

Silver eyes, green eyes, grey eyes, red eyes; three pairs of red eyes, that couldn’t be more different...

Wet blood on her skin, the pull of a bowstring and thud of an arrow hitting home, burning glass in her hands, a thin, soft body pressing up against her own...

Biting lips and mouth to shreds to hold back screams, cold hands on her body, bruised bones and trembling legs, fire in her veins...

Cinder tries to miss them, hurt for them, rage at them, feel something for them. But, she finds she cannot, as if they had all happened to somebody else a world away. Maybe another time, she would have had the right reaction, fight and scream and struggle against oblivion the way she has for the past twenty-three years. She feels like that is what she should still be doing, but can’t quite reach why that is.

Instead, here and now...She is just so, so tired. Sleeping forever doesn’t sound like such a horrifying idea after all. Her eyelid droops, and her breath leaves her in a long, dry rattle. She lets herself go limp, sinking into her mother’s embrace. With some effort, she moves her right hand to touch Ember’s bare wrist, and with her left...Oh. Her left arm is gone again. There’s only the stump. She supposes it makes sense; Grimm don’t go anywhere when they die, after all. Some long-forgotten part of her tells her she should count herself lucky that her own soul isn’t lost; there's no way that anybody has done the right things with her remains, shattered down there at the bottom of the vault.

Ember notices where her daughter’s attention has gone, and smiles wryly. “Yeah, that thing’s not coming with us. Sorry if you were missing it.”

Cinder gives her head a shake; it’s not needed anymore, anyway, and it must make it easier on Ember. She's surprised, however, to hear snickering from her mother about it.

“You know, don't tell him I said this, but it's almost a good thing your father’s already dead. Because if he weren't, a fair few of your life choices would have given him several fatal heart attacks by now.”

Only one word of that gets her attention, and wakes her back up a bit. “Father...? He’s here?”

“Oh, yes. Ash has been waiting a very long time for the three of us to be together again. He’s never been in any rush, though. He’s always been so patient...” Ember swallows, and can’t quite meet her eyes as she goes on. “I mean, so was I. You know damn well how badly I wanted you to live, don’t you?”

Of course she knows. Does Ember think that she’s ever been allowed to forget, Cinder thinks with a tinge of bitterness? At least now, she’ll be able to ask the question that’s stuck with her from the second she was old enough to understand where her mother had gone...and more importantly, who was responsible.

“Why? You knew what was going to happen to you, and to us. Why did you let me do it to you?”

At that, Ember’s expression turns sharp, her eyes narrowed and fierce. “Because I’m selfish.”

She blinks, stares blankly, and again a hollow laugh escapes Ember. “Don’t act surprised. I know that my dear, devoted Ash told you everything about me down to the last meaningless detail. I never in my life did anything unless I was paid to do it, or it was exactly what I wanted to do. And I wanted you to survive, so I’d get a chance at creating a kid who would become better than me, more than I felt like getting rid of you and passing that chance up. For that, I was willing to take the risk that I wouldn’t be there for you. And you've more than surpassed my expectations, haven't you, little devil?”

“I...” Anger starts to spark again through the numb block in her chest, but it's almost immediately drowned in shame. All her power, and what had she been able to do with it? She can't...quite remember who she'd fought, with it and for it, but the fact is, she's the one who landed here and not them, so that must be a bad sign. “I never did. I failed -- ”

“No, you didn't!” Ember shouts, stopping short, and Cinder can’t tell whether the sudden jerk of the older woman’s body had shaken her or if she’d really startled that badly. “Your goals were your goals, they never had anything to do with me! All I wanted was for you to grow strong enough to live however you wanted, to do things that I could never dream of doing. I’m satisfied with what I’ve seen you do, and I’m proud of you! So proud!”

Though there is still no echo, Ember’s words seem to ring in the deep silence. Her cheeks turn faintly pink, but she does not take the admission back, nor does she break eye contact. Cinder stares back at her with even greater shock. “You...?”

Ember gives a shallow, face-saving laugh, and looks down at her with so much raw affection in her eyes that Cinder feels her throat close up and her chest burn. “Yeah. You think your life wasn’t worth mine? You’re wrong.”

She has to swallow hard before answering, her voice a strangled whisper. “But I couldn't --”

“That doesn't matter. I told you, it's over now. I'm here now. I’ve wanted you with me for so long, I won’t let anyone else near you again,” Ember promises, her voice impossibly sweet. She adjusts the arm around her shoulders, and brings her up a little, so she can lay a kiss on her wide-eyed daughter’s forehead. “I love you, Cinder. Isn’t that all that matters?”

Her name.

For a moment, every part of her shuts down.

Her mother’s first and last words to her, finally complete. No one, she realizes, has ever said that to her with no strings attached.

She bites back an overwhelmed noise and forces herself not to shake -- some small but insistent voice at the back of her mind snaps that she’s acted weak and childish enough already -- but still she presses her face into her mother’s shoulder, doing her best to throw her remaining arm around her neck. So cold, so warm, she can’t seem to get close enough. Her heart is still dead silent, but there’s something twisting and constricting inside her chest.

Ember seems pleased by it. “That’s right, darling. No more fear. No more pain. Just rest now, okay? Rest,” she orders gently, wrapping her arms tighter around her daughter and continuing on their way, the distinctive clicking of her heels starting up again.

Cinder obediently lays still and relaxes as best she can, but can’t resist one more question, that it occurs to her she really should have asked sooner. “Mother...Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t be nervous. We’re going home. Everything will be all right.”

Home.

She closes her eye. That sounds perfect to her.

And so they go, calm and silent. The darkness seems to get deeper and heavier the further in, but that doesn’t matter; she barely feels it. The chill on her skin is gone, and the pain is, for one final time, a distant memory that Cinder can’t call back and doesn’t care to. Her world has narrowed down to the protective arms around her, the fingers still brushing and stroking her hair. Everything else has faded into the shadows, left behind. Her father will be here soon, and there won’t be anything between them anymore; she can tell him everything that he needs to hear and she never got to say. And her mother...Her mother will never leave her again.

Ember never seems to get tired, no matter how far they walk. The steady rhythm and the soft hum of her voice are comforting, easy to lose her thoughts and sink into. It lulls her into and out of something like sleep, like floating in the waves of a calm ocean. She loses track of how much time has passed, but after what must be a long while, the thought crosses her mind that she should ask.

“Mother -- ?”

Her voice comes out soft and wispy, and it takes some effort to peel her eye open to look. As she does so, a tiny part of her mind registers that it’s silent, and wonders where the noise went...

Only to realize, to her immediate shock, that she is alone.

“Mother?! Mother!”

Cinder hears her own frightened voice calling out, but she isn’t moving her own jaw and tongue. She can’t. Her body has locked up completely, every part of her held in place by the cold and the crawling shadows, so tightly she can’t even tremble. She doesn’t know where she is, whether she is suspended in the darkness or frozen and helpless on the ground again. She is nowhere and nothing, and Ember is gone, vanished into thin air.

“Mother!”

The darkness presses in, grabbing at her and twisting her bones, suffocating --

Her eye flashes open.

The blinding white light and chill in the air sting the sensitive tissue, tears welling up immediately. She’s still lying down, but there’s definitely something beneath her, hard and flat. There’s a sharp, acidic scent all around her, that she recognizes should be burning her nostrils and mouth, but somehow isn’t. It still hurts, though. Unthinkingly, she starts to move and discovers a fraction of a second later that that was a terrible mistake. Pain shoots through her body, burning her down to the smallest veins and muscles; her bare skin feels like it’s been scalded.

Her heart leaps into her throat, and a shrill, insistent ringing assaults her ears. A yelp tries to escape her but it’s caught at the base of her throat.

“Mmpf?!”

What?! No, that’s not right, I could talk again!

But that's as far as her thoughts go, before something heavy and freezing cold bears down down hard on her forehead, and extinguishes them all.

“I do hope you're paying attention this time.” Salem’s eyes are burning scarlet, and there is not the slightest hint of leniency in her face. “Because you have exhausted every last bit of my patience with you.”

Stark terror seizes Cinder, her stomach turning horribly. She has been under that unforgiving gaze for years, but these are the moments she dreads with every fiber of her being. As the memories start to flow back into her head, she knows she has no excuse for what she’s done wrong, and worse, this time she has not even the smallest success that she can present to her master to win her mercy. But still, her immediate instinct is to hastily try and explain herself; her mouth is already open to --

Wait. Wait a minute, she hadn’t...!

She tries to speak, but only stifled whimpering comes out. Her throat is hot and sore, but she can't feel any part of her numbed mouth at all, and it only takes that instant to realize why: it’s held wide open by the thick tube jammed inside and shoved down her throat. She chokes on a startled shout, barely able to swallow. Her tongue is pressed down to the bottom of her mouth, and her teeth reflexively gnaw at the black silicone.

Salem is unfazed by her ensuing muffled, frantic protests. “Such a disappointment...After all I’ve done for you, Cinder, I expect far better. Perhaps I have been too indulgent with you, for you to so drastically forget your place. The battle at Haven, and more importantly, the Relic of Knowledge, were lost because of you.”

No! It wasn't my fault! I'm sorry!

It comes out completely incoherent, like the squeals of a stuck pig.

“Quiet. I don’t want to hear your excuses. You deserve a far steeper punishment than what I choose to give you. But, you do still have your purpose. And I have no desire to break you, my dear. So instead, I will grant you another gift, and you will have your body back even more powerful than before.”

My body? What...

Her head feels like it had been poured full of cement, but she still forces herself to lift it enough to look down past the curving tube at her supine form.

Barely a second passes before she starts screaming.

She can barely see her own body, despite not being afforded even the mild dignity of a hospital gown and bandages this time. Between the electrodes taped onto into her skin, there are more tubes than she can count stuck into the veins of her right arm, hand, and legs, attached to IV bags on either side of the bed. And being pumped into her through them is dark, viscous fluid that sears her blood and makes every vein rise up pitch-black against her skin, that looks just like her left arm...Her left arm -- !

Though she can’t see evidence of any injuries, her body is still weak, most of it slowly turning the pale gray and sickening purple of a bruise. But the Grimm flesh has stretched to twice its normal length, the spindly fingers spreading out like the branches of a tree in winter. It throbs and pulses with every drop flowing into it, and sends fresh pain spiraling through her body with every movement. Her head is spinning, her muscles strain and burn, and her innards are roiling from...Oh, gods. The churning in her stomach isn’t from fear, and the tube in her mouth isn’t black: the same fluid is moving slowly but surely down her throat, too, turning her inside and out.

Primal horror surges through Cinder, taking her over and shattering all rational thought. Through the tube blocking her throat, she screams louder and harder than she ever has in her life. She tries to leap from the bed and run, but only succeeds in throwing herself over and over into the thick, padded straps wrapped around her limbs, waist, neck, and head. They hold her down so tightly that she can't move an inch off the bed, but she can't process that enough to stop.

No! NO! This is...She shuts her eye tight. This is a dream, it's just a bad dream, it's not happening, I'm going to wake up! Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!

The sting of Salem’s claws digging into her hairline, just deep enough to draw blood, forces her eye open again. “Be still, girl. Be grateful you are still alive to experience this pain.”

Cinder can barely hear her through the ringing in her ears; she couldn't stop herself from struggling against her restraints if she tried, even if she could remember how to calm down. Tears are streaming down her face, and her whole agonized body is racked with screaming sobs. She writhes in the straps, heedless of how it hurts to keep thrashing her body against them, and wails even more shrilly.

She can feel the Grimm fluid inside her, alive inside her, she can't take this! Any sound she makes is unintelligible, no matter how hard she's trying to make herself understood, so all she can do is look up pleadingly at her master.

Please don't do this to me, please don't do this, I don’t want it, I’ll be better, I swear I will, just please get it out of me!

Salem’s eyes narrow. “Cinder, behave. After the way you’ve disappointed me, it would be unwise of you to disobey any further.”

She seems ready to say more, but is interrupted by the clatter of the lab doors opening and Watts striding in towards them.

“Pardon me, ma’am...I heard our subject was awake?” He, too, is unfazed by Cinder’s utter panic, which is no more than she expected; compared to the human experiments that had gotten him chased out of Atlas, this is nothing. “You know, the children can hear her outside, as well. They’re...getting rather agitated.”

Emerald? Mercury?

Cinder’s heart races even faster. She remembers, a year ago, Emerald’s warm hand around hers, letting her cling as hard as she needed to; Mercury’s arm around her, propping her up as she tried to walk on her ruined leg. Her mind is torn between don't come here, stay away from me and please help me, get me out of here!

“Tell Hazel to keep them out. Clearly I was too gentle last time; Cinder is going to learn her lesson on her own.”

“Very good,” Watts agrees, tapping out the message on his scroll. He glances down at his terrified teammate, listens to her whimpering and uncontrollably fast breathing, and smirks. “Are you done crying for your mother, girl?”

Her eye widens, and a strangled sound comes from the back of her throat.

Ember...Mother...

For a desperate moment, she tries to go back, to return in her mind to that dark and peaceful place she’d been yanked out of and forget that this nightmare was happening to her. But it’s no good: the bright clarity of life has disappeared from that face, leaving only the hard eyes and frozen smile of a lusterless old photograph. The gently caressing hand on her face might as well have been a moment of wind, for all she can remember of its touch. Even the voice is lost; she can picture the mouth moving but not a single word comes out.

Ember is gone, ever the ghost, ever the shadow that she can't reach and will never save her.

What did she say? It was important...What was she saying?

She can’t think of it, no matter how she strains to remember. Beside her, though, they’re still talking about her as if she can’t hear them.

“May I be of any further assistance, ma’am?”

“For now, it’s running smoothly, so we will continue exactly as we discussed. Monitor her vital signs and switch out her IV bags as needed.”

“Shall I sedate her? She seems determined to put up a fight.”

“Not this time. There’s no point in doing this at all if she doesn’t remember, now, is there?”

“Certainly not.”

As he rounds the bed to reach the medical equipment on the other side, he ignores Cinder, but Salem turns her full attention back to her Maiden, who is still trying to tear herself loose.

“Now, Cinder...” All of a sudden, her voice is low and soothing, as she brushes Cinder’s bangs out of her face. “There's no need for you to struggle so. You should know by now that I don’t like to hurt you. This is for your own good. You asked me to make you powerful, don’t you? That’s what I’m going to do. Don’t fight it, accept it. This is what you want.”

“Uooohh!” On a wild, desperate impulse, she tries to cough and spit out the tube, but it's lodged too far in. “Uuoooohhh!”

Her blood has turned to fire under the stinging tubes, every innard is turning inside out as more fluid is pumped down her throat, and dark spots are beginning to cloud her vision. She thinks she can hear another voice shouting from outside the room, but she can’t tell; the sound of her pulse pounding in her ears blocks everything else out. She can feel it inside her, seeping into every cell, clawing into her consciousness and eating at her mind, as she descends into agony.

I don’t want this. Please, I don’t want it!

She doesn’t have a choice. It was what she asked for.

I want myself back, I want to stay me!

Power always comes at a price, she was foolish to forget, and not one she gets to pick.

I want to see my mother and father...I want to go home!

Home is a lie, she’s never had one. Mother and father are gone, and she is alone.

I...I want to die.

Body and soul are no longer her own; she will find no such mercy.

She can’t fight it any longer. Whatever’s inside her is far stronger than Cinder can ever hope to be. With one final, sepulchral moan, she falls back into the dark.

#i watched a cure for wellness and THAT scene from fire in the sky before writing this #so the whole ending is dedicated to dane dehaan's terrified squealing #rwby5 #cinder fall #rwby salem #kaen's fics

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coloursflyaway · 7 years

Note

Hartwin and 7, please

Thank you so much for the prompt!! ♥

“Just…stay.”Eggsy’s voice is soft, sleepy, his eyes half-lidded and dark, and Harry hasonly seen him like this once before, and yet has missed the sight of it eversince. Back at his house, mixing martinis while Eggsy was sprawled on the sofa,watching him with the same, tired eyes; Harry’s thoughts as improper as theyare now. “We can catch up properly tomorrow”, he tells Eggsy gently, although there ishardly anything he’d rather do than heed the boy’s request, stay the night. Ofcourse, Eggsy doesn’t mean what Harry has in mind, doesn’t want lazy kisses andintertwined limbs, doesn’t want to wake up in Harry’s arms the next morning,and it is something Harry has had to remind himself of constantly, ever since theyfreed him from his cell, lest he forgets and ruins a friendship that had hardlyany chance to begin yet.

“Yeah, Iknow”, Eggsy answers, his words slurred ever so slightly, making them soundsofter, sweeter somehow. It’s a privilege, Harry thinks, to see the other like this,vulnerable and sincere. “It’s not about that, though. Just don’t want you toleave.”There is a pause, almost breathless in a way that lets Harry know that if hedoesn’t speak right away, Eggsy will do the talking, might impart some truth hewould have kept hidden otherwise. It’s not fair, he knows it, and yet he can’tstop himself. And he’s right, it takes one, two, three heartbeats, then Eggsy licks his alreadypink lips, and mutters, “It’s just - you know, it’s just that I am kinda afraidthat you’ll vanish once I’ve fallen asleep. It’s silly, I know, but it’s hardto believe that I’ve got you back. We’ve got you back, I mean. You were gone awhole year after all.”

Maybe Harrywouldn’t even have noticed the slip of tongue, if the boy didn’t blush soeasily, pink dusting his cheeks in a way that Harry would only ever haveconsidered seeing in his daydreams. All of a sudden, he feels awkward, hovering near the door, and yet, coming closerfeels just the same way, because Eggsy is watching his every step, his cheeksstill glowing pink. If he could, he’d sit anywhere but next to Eggsy - he might have lived throughhalf a century, but right now, Harry still isn’t sure he should trust hishands, his body to behave - but there is no other option. So he sinks down nextto the boy, careful not to touch him. “I can assure you that I am not going anywhere, Eggsy”, he tells him softly, andmeans it. He has almost died, almost left Kingsman behind more times than hecould count, but almost leaving Eggsy twice was twice too often already. “Notif I can help it.”

Eggsy’slips curl into a smile that looks so delicate Harry isn’t sure it’s meant forhim, but which he knows will stay etched into his memory for years to come; Eggsyturns, and the dim electric light makes his hair gleam like brass, his eyesglisten green. “Thanks. Not that I think you wanted tobe shot in the face, but you know… it’s so weird, because it feels like I’veknown you for so long, but we didn’t really get that much time, did we?” Eggsylooks wistful, and he’s too close, far too close. Harry could just reach outand touch him, brush his knuckles down Eggsy’s cheek, feeling fine stubble raspagainst his skin, see if stroking a fingertip across Eggsy’s jaw would cut itto pieces. “Maybe it’s just ‘cause I kept thinking about you.”

There is noway of knowing why Eggsy thought about him, if it was because of their lastencounter, before he went to Kentucky to die, bitter, painful memories, or ifthere was something more pleasant there. And yet, knowing that, even whenbelieved dead, he still had a place in Eggsy’s life, is so much better thannothing. “I thought about you too”, he confesses, without having exhaustion to cite asan excuse, nothing but his old, treacherous, hopeful heart making him speak. “Notevery day, but most of them. There were so many things I wished I had said toyou…and a few I wish I hadn’t.”

“Me too.”It might be Harry’s imagination, but Eggsy seems closer now still, as if he hadshifted in the few moments Harry had not looked; if he concentrates, he canpretend, he can feel the warmth radiating from Eggsy’s body. “You could – we couldsay them now. Now that we’ve got the time.”He sounds tentative, his voice still soft with exhaustion, with a hint of worrywoven in-between the words, a hint of hope, and Harry has withstood torture andMr. Pickles insistent begging at the dinner table, and yet he knows that hecouldn’t say no to anything Eggsy could ask of him, if he used this voice. Hesounds young, sounds unsure, and still like he deserves the world to bend tohis every whim.

“Alright”,he replies, and tries to ignore the beating of his heart, how it feels heavierand lighter than just a second ago, all at the same time. Perhaps it’s for thebest, to sabotage this friendship now, before he can fall any deeper, and riskruining more; and if there is something more here for his wounded heart tofind, he’ll have a few more days, a few more months or years to hold Eggsy in hisarms. Eggsy looks more awake now than he did just moments ago, and Harry wishesdesperately that he won’t disappoint him, that the boy won’t regret asking thisof a man he could very well think of as a father figure.

A pinktongue darts out to wet pink lips, and Harry cannot look away, as if himresigning to his fate, preparing himself to lay bare his heart, has washed awayall inhibitions. Eggsy might notice, might not, and in the end, it does notmatter. “I quite adore you”, Harry mutters, the words feeling soft, right as they flyoff his lips, not falling flat like he would have imagined them, but beingcarried along with his breath, taking to the skies. “I have, not since I havefirst seen you, but sometime after that. Everything changed, and I didn’t evennotice at first. Not until you stole that cab, and I was more upset than I hadany reason to be, for your sake and for mine. Because I knew you had so muchmore to offer than they let you, and because I wasn’t prepared to lose you to anotherbranch of Kingsman. Not yet. Not ever.” Harry takes a deep breath, wants to go on, because now that he started, it’sdifficult to stop, even if he knows he is rambling, possibly not making as muchsense to Eggsy as he would like to. But the look on Eggsy’s face stops him; theboy looks like time has stopped for him, not breathing, not blinking, not asingle muscle moving. It means something, that at least Eggsy isn’t indifferentto Harry’s heart beating in his own chest, but for him, but Harry cannot saywhat, can’t decipher the expression on the boy’s face.

“Eggsy?”,he tries tentatively, his traitorous hand starting to reach out before Harrycan snatch it back to his side. But Eggsy must have seen the movement at theedges of his vision, since his eyes dart down, tracking Harry’s fingers as theycurl to a fist, as if they could keep each other in check, and Harry wants tosay something, perhaps offer an explanation, but he never gets to find theright words, let alone speak them.

It takes a second,cannot take more, and then Eggsy is closer, so much closer, breath coming inhitches and huffs, feeling like a butterfly’s wings against Harry’s lips; thedear boy is giving him a moment to pull away, Harry realises, but realises farlater, when Eggsy’s lips have kissed him senseless, left him again, with thetaste of chewing gum clinging to his tongue, every inch of skin Eggsy has touchedtingling. He can still feel Eggsy’s kiss, burning like a mark, and it’s just so that hecan resist reaching up to run a finger across his mouth, making sure his fleshisn’t seared off.

Eggsy isstaring at him, lips kissed pink and parted, cheeks flushed once more, but hisgaze unsure, as if somehow, a kiss could have changed Harry’s mind. It’s heart-breakingin its own way, but even before his brain has quite caught up with what hashappened, with what this means, Harry knows what to do to wipe that look offEggsy’s face. He reaches up, swipes histhumb across the boy’s cheeks, down to his mouth, before he curves his handalong the line of Eggsy’s jaw gently, finding that it doesn’t slice into hispalm, but fits perfectly against it.

Slowly,Harry’s heart is swelling in his chest, light with happiness and warm withaffection, realising that perhaps, just like it is beating for Eggsy, the boy’sheart might return the favour. “I meant it”, he mutters, and hopes his breath flutters like butterfly’s wingsagainst Eggsy’s skin. “Every word.”A sigh, and Eggsy’s lips curve into a smile, relief making his eyes shine; henuzzles his cheek into Harry’s hand just so, and Harry uses the moment whenEggsy’s eyes close to brush a kiss against his plush lips.

“Me too”,Eggsy whispers into the kiss, into Harry’s mouth, and curls a hand around Harry’sshoulder, holding onto him. “I meant it.”“You didn’t say anything”, Harry replies, just as softly, and gets his reply asa warm, happy chuckle, another kiss, another few words.“I didn’t have to, did I?”

#kingsman #hartwin #harry hart #eggsy unwin #ficlets #this was fun even if it's far too late and i should have gone to bed an hour ago #whoops #worth it though #thisbirdhadflown #also if you have an ao3 handle let me know so i can gift this to you!

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sugatsby · 7 years

Text

Midnight

Group: BTS Pairing: Min Yoongi X Reader Rating: Fluff Prompt: It’s late and you’re trying to get your rapper boyfriend out of his studio and into your bed. Word count: 1 767

A/N: This is my first ever fanfic. I’m still trying to find my own style of writing, so please bear with me and be nice if you can! I hope you enjoy! :)

“Yes, mom. I’ll talk to you soon. Yes. Love you too. Bye, mom.” You press the ‘end call’ button after saying goodbye to your mother. It’s been a while since the two of you spoke, leaving you to catch up with each other’s lives as best as possible with a long-distance phone call. “She’s unbelievable!” you sigh as you let yourself fall back onto the couch.

Your mom has always had the tendency to keep talking and talking, even if one of you had something to do or somewhere to go. Even though today, you didn’t really mind, you were tired, struggling to hold back your yawns while speaking to her on the phone. With a rough day at work, with a co-worker falling ill and a manager demanding you’d finish a file before going home for the weekend, you were ready to let yourself fall, face forward, onto your pleasantly soft matrass without even making the effort of getting yourself out of your restricting outfit. But, you felt dirty, ready to jump… Well, not jump. That would take too much effort.

You were ready to calmly step underneath a scorching hot shower, to try and wash away the stress that had been building up in your body. After showering and having put on some of your comfiest sweats, you decided to wind down with some bad TV show and a nice warm mug of green tea, waiting for your boyfriend to come home. With your mug empty and the sounds of the TV in the background, your eye lids started to become heavy. With the sudden sound of your phone ringing, you woke up from your little nap, having to answer the call from your mom, who did not bother the check the time difference once again.

You sigh once again, switching off the TV. You press the button on your phone, checking for messages. That’s when you see the time: 02:38 am. No wonder you feel exhausted! And also, where the hell is Yoongi? He should have been at your place by now. At least that’s what he messaged you earlier today. Of course he could have forgotten that and could have gone to his dorm instead. Or the idiot could have forgotten everything around him all together and still be working on one of his songs in the studio. Having known Yoongi for a while, your guess is the latter, but it won’t hurt to check with one of his members, because if he is indeed absorbed in his work, he won’t notice you calling him anyway.

You tap on Seokjin’s name in your messages. Jin is Yoongi’s roommate and a late sleeper, playing games until the early hours of the morning. You’re sure he’s still awake when you send your message. Both your assumptions get confirmed a minute later when Jin replies that Yoongi hasn’t come to the dorm and is probably still at the studio, working. Tonight being the third night in a row that he’s pulling an all-nighter, you start to get worried. Sending Jin a quick ‘thank you’, you put on a pair of trainers, grab your jacket and keys, and walk out the door of your apartment to go and try to convince your boyfriend to get out of that cramped space and sleep in a bed for once, food being one of the best motivators.

The night is quiet. Peaceful. There aren’t a lot of cars driving around here at this time of night. You wish you’d worn a thicker jacket, the midnight breeze going straight through the denim, leaving goose bumps in its wake. You put up your collar, trying to block some of the cold. You start walking a bit faster, warming yourself up with your first destination in sight. Your first stop is a barbecue place where Yoongi took you once, saying they made the best bulgogi in the whole city. After buying that and some galbi for the two of you, you make your way to your next stop, about five minutes away.

When you approach the building you notice most of the windows show darkness, just a few lit up by a warm light. You know that Yoongi is still in one of those rooms, working diligently on the lyrics or melody of a song, sitting in front of his computer screen, clicking and rearranging, an emptied americano next to him, and bags underneath his eyes. You’re making your way to the entrance of the building, now minutes away from forcing your boyfriend to take a break.

Walking into the building, you notice it’s quiet. Only the soft buzzing of the lights hanging off the ceiling can be heard. You make your way up to the 7th floor, where you know most of the studios are located. Big Hit gave Yoongi his own studio on this floor, giving him the space and freedom to produce whenever he wants to. Even if it’s 3 o’clock at night, apparently. After walking through the maze of hallways and rooms, you make your way to the door your boyfriend has been hiding behind. You knock, but there’s no answer. There’s light coming from underneath the door however, indicating someone is behind it.

You quietly open the door, swinging it open softly, only to reveal your boyfriend sitting at his desk, wildly clicking with his mouse, too focused on the screen in front of him to have heard you enter, his headphones not really helping either. You make your way over to him, after putting down the food on the small coffee table near the leather sofa. You softly place your arms over his shoulders, embracing him from behind. You feel him jump slightly, his muscles spasming underneath your touch. He turns his head to look at you with a little bit of annoyance, but you quickly feel his muscles relax when he realizes it’s you that surprised him. “God, Y/N! You scared me,” he says, still surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I am here to feed you,” you tell him, nuzzling your face into his neck. “And after that I’ll kidnap you.”

Yoongi looks at the corner of his computer screen. “Oh.” He turns around to look at you with an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry, babe. I just really need to finish this.”

“That’s fine,” you sigh. “But you can at least take a break. I brought some food, because I knew you haven’t eaten yet.” You sit yourself down onto his lap, your right arm draped over his shoulders, pulling him closer. “Please,” you beg, turning your head to look him straight in the eye.

“Okay, but I’m still planning on finishing this thing tonight.”

“Sure. But first: food!” You jump up from his lap, excited to finally eat dinner. With your exhaustion of today, you fell asleep without eating dinner, which you have been regretting since you woke up from your nap on your couch. You move towards the sofa in the back of the studio, dragging your boyfriend out of his chair.

After your very late dinner, Yoongi moves towards his desk once more, promising he will be finished working soon. “Do you mind waiting a little longer?” he asks, looking at you with a semi-guilty look in his eyes for keeping you from your precious bed a little longer too. You raise your eyebrow at him. “That depends. How long is a little longer?”

Your question makes Yoongi spin his chair around, checking his progress and the time once again. “I think about twenty minutes,” he says twisting his head around to face your figure on the sofa. “I guess I can handle that much,” you answer with a tired smile. He chuckles at your exhausted face and turns to his computer screen while you lean back on the sofa. You pull out you phone from your jacket’s pocket to pass the time while waiting for your boyfriend to finish his work. After a couple of minutes you begin to fall into a light slumber.

You wake up feeling something pressing against you. You notice an arm placed around your waist. After successfully twisting around on the narrow sofa, your boyfriend’s sleeping face comes into view. His breaths are steady, fanning over your forehead, escaping his slightly parted lips. God, he looks so breathtakingly beautiful when sleeping. You smile, noticing a warmth enveloping the lower half of your body. Yoongi must have draped a blanket over you before laying down next to you. Though he won’t admit, Yoongi’s always very thoughtful. You just wish he would think of himself a little more sometimes, getting his well-deserved rest and eat dinner. You always find yourself telling him this, but the stubborn idiot that he is, just shrugs, telling you he’s fine.

You know he’s lying, but you don’t want to confront him in that way. You know he works so hard to keep being able to juggle it all, so you just try to support him the best you can. Just like today. You don’t get mad at him for this anymore, because you know he has got a lot more on his plate. And that’s probably why you two work so well together.

You don’t know what time it is, but you know that the day has already begun, hearing muffled footsteps and voices coming from the hallway. You guess Yoongi has also heard the small noises from outside, because you notice his breathing starts to go a little faster, a deep sigh escaping his nostrils before his eyes flutter open, meeting yours. He doesn’t say anything, just giving you a small smile. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, his embrace around your waist getting tighter, trying to find his slumber once again. And you let him, not caring about the fact that he might have somewhere to be.

You put your arm around his shoulder, your hand finding comfort in his hair, softly running your fingers through his freshly dyed strands. You always find this comforting. As does he, letting you pet him at your heart’s content. Yoongi’s breathing soon finds his steady rhythm again. You close your eyes as well, mimicking your boyfriend, until the sounds in the background fade. Falling into a peaceful slumber in your boyfriend’s arms, you cannot help feeling safe and content. You know that any minute now, there could be someone knocking on the outside of the studio door, looking for him, but until then, you take advantage of this moment with Yoongi, both of you having a well-deserved nap.

#ff #fanfic #sfwbangtan #kpopwonderlandtag #bts #bts scenarios #suga fluff #yoongi fluff #suga scenario #yoongi scenario #suga #yoongi #min yoongi #idol #midnight #sugatsby #btsguild

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ecotone99 · 4 years

Text

[HR] The Harrowing - A quick busride into Hell - Part 2

“There is a way,” Amun continued, inches from Amelia’s shuddering face, tipping his head slightly as he took in her porcelain features. “And if you take me there, I will deliver you from an eternity of torment.” The grinning face moaned, and Hal watched in horror as a slender tongue slipped out and licked Amelia from neck to hair.

She screamed as a streak of red blistered in the wake of his sadistic kiss.

Functioning on an instinct that surprised him, Hal swung at the burned man’s face—missing, but causing Amun to lose his grip as Amelia twisted away at the same time. She dove to the side and hid, sobbing, behind the priest, who held one protective arm out in front of her.

This thing is vile, twisted… Hal thought, backing up again.

In contrast to Hal’s abrupt retreat, Doc Turner pushed forward, moving farther in front of Amelia and the priest, though admittedly, still keeping a safe distance away from the crouching figure of Amun. “Tell us how to get out,” he demanded, a look of violent single-mindedness creasing his heat-stained face.

Lips and tongue were fleshing out from where Amun had licked Amelia, and he seemed to be tasting her, still, as he spoke. “Descensus Christi ad Inferos. I was here when Christ descended and delivered the righteous from their perpetuation in Sheol. I was here when the Son of Man touched the fiery ground of Hades. And where the light of the Kingdom exists, the fires of Hell, cannot.”

Muscle and tissue were beginning to rope backward over face and arm, lending Amun features, fullness… and definitely lending him strength.

He uncoiled from his crouch just inside the door, keeping his motions deliberate and measured as he lowered one leg to the smoking ground. It hissed where his foot made contact, but Amun seemed not to notice, gradually rising to his full height, shoulders straight and back erect.

“I alone followed the wailing of the damned who were blinded by the image of that which is holy—singing for eternity, trapped in a paradox of light and darkness.”

“I’m with the padre on this one,” Hal announced, growing more wary by the second as Amun spoke. He shook his head, squinting against the sulfuric fumes. “This guy’s just trying to use us—look at what he got just from touching Amelia.”

“Oh, I most assuredly am going to use you,” the burned man agreed shamelessly, one newly formed brow ridge lifting in an expression Hal couldn’t quite read. “The torment of Hell is a bit distracting, see, and the climb can prove difficult whilst having the flesh burned from one’s bones.”

Amelia, finally regaining herself a bit, peered around from behind the priest’s sleeve. “Climb where?”

Amun grinned at her. “To the ruins of Sheol, where the fires cannot touch. There dwells an entity who, if reached, will grant a soul one wish.”

“A wish?” Hal barked, not believing what he was hearing. “This isn’t a fairy tale, you twisted piece of shit! This is goddamn Hell!” …Oh God, this is Hell…

“Which is why I require the likes of you fine specimens to see me to the top. And you need me, as well. Only I know how to reach the ridge, but only those with the lingering aura of…” he sniffed deeply, “…Mm… life, about them are capable of reaching it without succumbing to the fires and falling into the abyss. Once that—how did you put it Father? Breath of the Kingdom?—fully fades…” he gave a low, mocking bow at this point, gesturing to himself as a whole. “…you will be as bare to the fires of Hell as all the rest.”

Hal exchanged a nervous glance with the other three, watching the decision solidify in their expressions as they studied each other, and then Amun.

Only the priest seemed to still hold reservations. “Nero? Himmler? And you just expect us to allow you to pass back into the world unchecked?”

A sudden clarion horn blast interrupted the priest’s ire, and Hal turned to see the red glow at the mouth of the tunnel begin flashing and flickering again. Not rescue lights… bodies… Bodies leaking from the walls of Hell like an infection, their purulent flow coursing over the mouth of the tunnel in rapid, fleeting shadows cast from the light of hellfire beyond.

Amun tipped his head in a motion of complete disinterest. “This portal will only sleep for a brief time. Before long, it too will begin to flow again with the souls of the damned at the call of Charon’s horn …What choice do you have?”

The priest’s face hardened. “There is always a choice.”

“—I’ll take you,” Doc Turner interrupted. “I’ll take you myself, just get me out of here.”

The father turned his gaze on the doctor. “You would visit that level of evil upon the world? The last time this demon walked the Earth he fueled the Holocaust—”

“—I don’t want to burn!”

Amun gave a dark chuckle at the argument playing out before him. “Do not fret, Father—I am hardly a demon. Man is capable of enough without any help from the likes of demons. But my knowledge of the occult is unsurpassed. You will not make the journey without me. Our time here grows short. Climb? —Or burn.”

“Climb,” the doctor said immediately, stepping around Hal to stand closer to the tunnel entrance. Amelia looked uncertain, but soon, she too gave a hesitant nod and moved out from behind the priest to stand beside the doctor.

Hal hesitated for a moment, staring at the priest as he weighed his own soul against that of possibly thousands. At the next burst of fiery heat, though, his resolve faltered. Why start caring about other people now? You had your whole life to do that and look how you screwed that up.

“Stay, if you wish...”

Hal looked up from where he had ducked below the cover of his arm, drawn by the indifferent tone of Amun’s voice. He wasn’t where Hal had last seen him. He now stood placidly between Doc Turner and Amelia, unaffected by the raging storm of heat swirling around them.

“...It matters naught, to me. These two are enough to see me to the ridge. I wish you well… for your sojourn in Hell.”

Dammit, he’s going to this ridge whether I help him or not. I don’t care what the padre has to say, I’m getting out of here.

Ducking beneath his arm once more, Hal turned and stepped toward Amun. The burned man gave him a wicked leer but turned without a word and headed for the mouth of the tunnel.

They emerged to the press of the burning, fetid wind, and the cries of the multitude of wailing souls was nearly deafening. Amun hesitated as the full brunt of Hell’s sweeping blaze washed over him, the exposed muscle fibers above his blackened jaw flexing and bunching in a poorly disguised shudder.

“The way is treacherous,” he began, his voice—far rougher than it had been inside the tunnel—barely audible above the drone of screams. “If you fall, there is no return from the lake of fire.” He turned a searching gaze over his shoulder and up. Taking a deep breath through the hole in his face where his nose should have been, he went on. “We must ascend to the next sleeping portal before you are lain bare to the fire.”

Amun moved to begin scaling the wall, but when no one immediately followed him, he jerked to a halt, curling in on himself as he apparently reached some sort of invisible limit. He turned back to them with a frustrated stare.

“If it is your intent to linger until your flesh ignites, do tell me now, and I will abide a while longer in the peace of the portal while I watch you burn.”

That was enough to get Doc Turner moving. Hal followed once Amelia began climbing, and to his surprise, saw the priest emerge from the mouth of the tunnel, as well.

“Change your mind, Padre?” Hal called over the howling, but the priest didn’t respond, only gave him a grim look and took to the wall beside him.

The climb was impossible—a fact which Hal kept reminding himself of every burning, scraping inch, pulling himself hand over hand up the jagged rock face. Checking above him, he found Amelia and Doc Turner—younger and with much slimmer bodies—not having nearly the difficulty he was with his slightly-more-than-middle-aged, overweight frame. The heat billowing up from the lake far below kept him moving, though, one blistering handhold after another.

They climbed for what seemed an hour, the updrafts ever worsening as they licked up the concave walls of Hell’s outer reaches. Hal looked up, gritting his teeth against the burning ache in his limbs as he pulled himself ever upward, the pain in his muscles a dim shadow against the scorching wind constantly racing over his flesh.

Amun had reverted to the struggling, wailing creature they had first met him as, and he scrabbled over rocky cliffs and rises with the single-minded determination of one who was running from oblivion—and finally had the end in sight.

Suddenly, Amun’s grotesque form disappeared over a rise. Doc Turner, closest behind him, soon followed suit. Eventually, Hal slapped a meaty arm over the edge of the rocky landing, the cracks and blisters across his skin giving him a moment of angst as his eyes focused on them. He looked across the ledge for the others. Amelia and the doctor were dragging Amun by the arms into the shelter of a dark crevice, narrow and jagged against the harsh light of spurting flames.

Gaining the rise, Hal struggled forward a few inches on hands and knees, breath heaving and lungs burning. He spit the grit from his mouth, only to watch the globule of saliva hiss and immediately sizzle into nothing.

He jumped when he felt a hand under his arm, and a sharp tug brought his gaze up to find the priest trying to pull him to his feet. Desperate, he clasped at the hand and heaved himself up, leaning heavily on the other man as they struggled forward.

Hal knew the instant that they passed into the crevice. It was like a breath of cool spring air washing over him, and he suddenly realized just why Amun had been nuzzling the dirty rubber aisle mat when he had first crashed upon them. It must have been bliss. -Is this what just the memory of mortal life feels like to the damned?-

Doc Turner was holding a hand to Amun’s head, as if in benediction, as Hal and the priest struggled toward them. Flesh and sinew squirmed and spread beneath his hand—but not as quickly as it had before, with Amelia… Were they losing their protection that quickly?

Amelia turned at the sound of them approaching and gave them an unsteady smile. Rubbing her hand against her arm, she asked, “Where are we?”

“Hell,” was Amun’s immediate, hoarse answer.

Amelia took an impatient breath and kicked one of her heavy-booted feet. “Thanks, Sherlock. I mean, why does it feel so nice here? Nice isn’t supposed to be part of Hell, I assume?”

“The gateways into Hell are eternal,” he explained, bliss radiating from his voice as he continued lapping up energy from Doc’s touch. “But just as with me, the residue of the mortal coil leaves its mark. Frequently, the tunnels sleep, clogged and sullied by the taint of humanity left by the multitude of souls passing through their walls.” He tipped his head slightly to look up at Amelia from beneath the cover of Doc Turner’s hand. “You four are fortunate. The gateways vomit the souls bent for eternal torment down to the lower levels without prejudice. Had your… contraption, not become lodged in the tunnel’s gluttonous throat, you would be burning in the pit with all the others.”

Hal gave himself a mental shake to chase away the memory of the writhing masses of bodies. Motioning to the priest, still at his arm, they staggered farther back into the cave.

“That one deserves to burn here,” Hal grumbled as he flopped down onto the blessedly cool stone floor of the cave. Fire continued to stutter and burst from cracks in the walls at frequent intervals, but Hal felt nothing of their heat.

“But not you?” The priest’s voice held a questing note and Hal turned to look at him.

The priest was watching him, eyes tipped upward beneath his brows from where he sat slumped against the opposite wall. The space was small, and Hal could see the streaks lining the priest’s face where sweat had tried and failed to linger.

Hal shrugged, trying to appear as if the idea didn’t bother him as much as it did; it freaking terrified him, now. “Dunno. I never masterminded any evil regimes… but, I suppose I never really worked that hard at staying out of this place, either. There’s retrospect for you, huh?”

The priest gave a dark laugh. “I suppose so.”

Hal rested his head back. “How about you, Padre? What lands a priest in the fiery furnace?”

The priest didn’t immediately answer, but Hal could see in the way he sat silent, brow wrinkled together, that the question bothered him.

“I believe our crispy friend over there said it best,” he finally began, making a subtle motion with his head over toward Amun and causing Hal to chuckle a bit, despite their current circumstance. “I was an unworthy servant.” he went on. “My great sin was doubt. I doubted the gospel, doubted the resurrection… but what was worse, I encouraged others to doubt, as well.”

Hal sobered at the other man’s heavy words. “Isn’t that a good thing, though?” he asked, running his fingers back through his thinning hair as he spoke. “Shouldn’t you encourage people to think for themselves?”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, his voice hesitant. “A healthy amount of doubt from the average person can, certainly, strengthen one’s beliefs. But when that doubt is coming directly from your church leader… well, it tends to have a much greater impact. Especially on those who had a shaky belief to begin with. My colleagues found out, of course, and I was taken away from my parish to be reassigned to the city hospitals, where my work primarily consisted of administering the last rites.” He gave a deep sigh then, the regret heavy in his voice. “Who knows how many souls I helped deliver to this place.”

Hal could only stare at the poor figure in front of him. And I thought my hindsight was screwed…

“Hey…”

Hal turned at the soft voice. Amelia was standing there, her cheeks and shoulders showing angry red blisters, as if she had spent the day frying in the sun. What Hal wouldn’t give for this all to be just a bad sunburn…

“Amun says we need to keep moving. He’s able to walk again now and, well… it’s time to go.”

Hal hung his head for a moment and nodded, taking in what little bit more of the crevice’s reprieve as he could. “Alright.”

Hefting himself off the cave floor, he reached a hand down to the priest. Glancing up, the priest nodded once and took it, allowing Hal to pull him to his feet. He kept ahold of Hal’s hand, though, even after he was fully upright, and Hal glanced down at this before checking the priest’s face.

“Nathan Donahue.”

Hal blinked. “Pardon?”

“Before, at the bus, you asked my name, and I very rudely refused it.”

“Oh, ah… right, um—Hal. Hal Richardson.”

Father Donahue didn’t release his hand. “Hal. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this—as you seemed to be the only other one among us who has reservations about this plan—but, don’t trust Amun. He needs us, now. But will he later?”

He released Hal’s hand with a meaningful squeeze, and Hal followed his gaze over to the three figures silhouetted by the red glow beyond the crevice. Amun stood erect and strong once more, but Doc Turner and Amelia seemed… less—slouched, tired… drained.

With a nod to Father Donahue, Hal moved to join them at the entrance.

“How much farther?” he asked as he reached them, his shoulders tensing as he eyed the light coming from outside.

Amun looked at him with distain. “You were fortunate, my rotund friend. Your gateway was quite high, relatively speaking. You have but a day or so’s journey ahead of you, as you are right now.”

“What do you mean, ‘as we are’?” though he thought he already knew.

Amun gestured broadly to the scene outside the mouth of the cave. “Imagine, if you would, making this climb blinded with pain, your skin peeling from your flesh as you drag yourself up the escarpments, your bones charring away, only to regrow in a perpetual cycle of torment—and yet you climb; climb from the lake burning below, from the uncertainty of whether falling will lead you into oblivion—or an even greater inescapable torment.”

Hal didn’t meet Amun’s burning gaze as he went on.

“I’m sure you could imagine it taking quite some time, in this state. As you are, though, the journey is swift. Likely only several weeks from the lake to the ridge, but I—I have been climbing for forty-five years, and I have climbed for much, much longer. Alone, stealing from sleeping gateway to sleeping gateway, the remaining journey might take me months—years even. And that’s assuming I don’t fall…”

Amelia cast a nervous glance out through the opening in the wall. “What—what happens? If you fall in the lake, I mean.”

The first notes of disquiet marred Amun’s practiced façade. “I do not know. But those who do, do not reemerge.”

A horrible prickle ran up Hal’s back, and he looked away. “Let’s go then, before this temporary buffer wears off.”

The climb was worse this time. Much worse. Hal could feel baked skin splitting over his knuckles. Blisters rose and burst over the flesh of his back, and the hair on his head and arms slowly diminished to crisp, blackened shrivels. He felt the fire now, when it burst through the crevices surrounding him. He felt his body cracking and peeling, and he felt the hiss of skin on stone with every passing grip as they slowly ascended the barren rise, creeping ever closer to the terrible, black event horizon obscuring the upper reaches. Hal could feel the draw of it, pulling the waves of heat upward from the lower levels in a turbulent blaze, drawing in everything, even the light, dim as it was from the lake below. All disappeared into its ravenous maw.

By the time Amun sniffed out the next gateway, Hal was having serious doubts as to whether or not this climb would be physically possible. With a tight-jawed moan, he collapsed into the mouth of the small, round tunnel, inching forward on his elbows as he held his blistered palms away from the stone. Then, he simply lay there, shaking, weeping, sucking deep gasps in and out through gritted teeth.

When finally he was able to lift his head again, he looked forward. Doc was laying hands on Amun again, though he, himself, seemed not too much further behind the wretched creature. His scrubs bore large, blackened holes, revealing scorched and blistered skin beneath. His breathing was labored, and his shoulders seemed too heavy for the young doctor to carry.

Father Donahue, Hal saw then, had abandoned his polyester jacket, though the melted remnants of it still marred the once-white cotton of his shirtsleeves, and Amelia, who hadn’t had much in the way of protective garments to begin with, showed bright red, cracked skin from fingertips all the way across her back and over her face. Her hair, once long and shiny, had been singed nearly to her scalp and now stuck out in twisted, spiky tendrils.

Recognizing he must not be in any better state, Hal fumbled out of the melted remains of his duty vest and tossed it aside, brushing away the last bit of charred sleeve from one arm. Rolling onto his back, he breathed deeply of the life-tainted air. A sucking gust rushed past him, and his vest was suddenly ripped from the tunnel, swept away by the constant draw of the ominous dark nimbus looming outside their refuge.

Amelia’s hushed voice drifted up through the distant sound of wailing. “Amun, what happens if we’re sucked into that black hole up there?”

Hal listened carefully; he had been wondering that, himself.

“Thinking of an escape, my sweet?” Amelia didn’t answer, so Amun continued. “I wouldn’t advise it. Though I have never attempted the feat, myself, I have, in the past, crossed paths with one who has. You are not erased, nor spit back out on earth, nor out into empty space. You are simply regurgitated back through the gateways to take your chances sliding down the river of souls when next Charon calls you home. There is no escape from Hell, you see.”

“Except for you?” Hal croaked, the act causing him to cough nearly to convulsions.

He looked back up in time to see Amun smiling at him in a chilling sort of way. “Yes, except for me. And those fortunate enough to have crossed paths with me early enough in their journeys.”

Because otherwise, you’d have no use for them, he thought darkly. A glance at Father Donahue told Hal the priest was having a similar thought.

Seconds later—or maybe hours? Hal couldn’t quite swear to which—Amun shot to his feet, posture hunched in the small space as he crouched with his head slightly tipped, as if listening, his whole body held rigidly still.

“We must flee.”

Hal’s gaze sharpened on him, and then rapidly flicked around to Father Donahue and the others. “What?”

“We must flee!”

And before Hal could question him again, Amun darted for the cliffs.

Then a sound met his ears—a sound like boiling thunder, emanating from the deeper reaches of the cave. It was quickly followed by a blast of fetid wind, putrid enough to make Hal’s eyes water and he struggled to his feet.

“Climb, you fools!” Amun’s furious voice echoed back. “The gateway—it wakes!”

Realizing, then, what the horrible sound must be, Hal spun and scrambled toward the opening, desperately racing ahead of the wave he knew was sure to come.

The horn sounded, and Hal cried out as it echoed through the passage, rattling his eyes and traveling down the darkened tunnel like a beacon calling home the souls of the dead.

The burbling sound grew louder and the rush of air increased. He was right on Father Donahue’s heels, but they weren’t moving fast enough. The burbling was changing to a roar and Hal threw one terrified look over his shoulder to see a dark, roiling mass racing toward them.

Continue to Part 3 tomorrow

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ecotone99 · 4 years

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[HR] The Harrowing - A quick busride into Hell - Pt 2