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grumpygreenwitch · 1 year

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The Fairy and the Prince #17 + #18 + #19

Part 1 - Part 2 - Parts 3 & 4 - Part 5 - Part 6, 7 & 8 - Part 9 & 10 - Part 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 & 16 - Part 17, 18, & 19 - Part 20, 21 & 22 - Part 23, 24, 25 & 26 - Part 27, 28, 29 & 30 - Part 31, 32, 33 & 34 - Part 35, 36 & 37 - Part 38, 39, 40 & 41 - Part 42 & 43 - Part 44 & 45 - Part 46 & 47 - Part 48, 49, 50 & 51 - Part, 52, 53 & 54 - Part 55 & 56 - Part 57, 58, 59 & 60 - Part 61, 62, 63, 64 & 65 - Part 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71 & 72

Originally posted 11/9/2022

Winter came and winter went. Princes went into the woods; some came back. Every now and again one made it into the palace; the occasional nightmare would plague Adam long into the years of his life of Alaric, snatching up a bread knife and rushing at the Dowager during a celebratory breakfast, screaming in a language that hurt the ears and the mind. He found himself in the incredibly odd situation of no longer being the youngest prince, as more boys were sent to the palace by their parents. Most did not want to come, but the lure of the crown, of being named heir, of the wealth and power that would fall upon their families if they should succeed where so many others had failed and died, guaranteed that the Queen Dowager never ran out of potential princes.

No one doubted the curse anymore. Master Leminy’s sparse hair had gone completely white. He refused to train a replacement, though, and Adam found some degree of respect for his old enemy, because the Master of Scions simply refused to drop someone else into the mess, refused to burden anyone with the nightmares he already carried. He alone would bury the princes until he could see a King chosen.

It became impossible for Adam to hide the fact that he had friends no one could find in the palace grounds. On his thirteenth birthday the Dowager kept him for three torturous hours over tea only she drank and cakes neither of them ate, and every question was a trap. Some were subtle, some were more obvious, but each one begged him to betray Linden. He could scarcely breathe when she at last excused him, her mouth pressed into a thin line of disapproval, her blue eyes gone to ice with anger that wouldn’t betray through her gracious tone or her kind words. Adam was told she would write to his parents, asking why no one had come to visit, why no presents were sent for his birthday or for the many holidays, why he was not asked to visit home. After all, he’d made it clear to all and sundry he didn’t wish to become King, did he?

It felt like a threat, and he couldn’t have said why. He spent those blustery, chilly days after his birthday, while he waited for Linden, sneaking around trying to figure out if she’d put someone to follow him. He had far less faith that he could turn an agent of the Dowager to his side.

But she did nothing, and he met his friends when spring at last truly and fully arrived. To them he confided everything as they traded coming-back and waiting-for presents, much to Needlemaw’s amusement, not that she minded the gift of a beautiful pearl and silver button stolen from Arditty. Certainly not from a defeated enemy, but too pretty for her to reject, she’d added it to her girdle. She convinced the others that Adam had a rightful concern; while all their experience might be with their own Royals, there was no reason to believe an old crone perched on a throne and throwing young boys at the woods in the hopes one would stick was any better.

They taught him to disappear. Hiding the prince under a plain woolen shawl, Boulder taught him to become little more than a stone on a field, a tumbled-down wall in the garden, a weathered stump in the woods. While he still couldn’t understand the language of the trees (or even hear it), Linden still taught him to take their hand so they could take him around one vast craggy trunk and out from behind another. They had to be trees that liked him, but then, Linden assured him that most of the trees in the Royal Woods did.

Needlemaw taught him to stalk. To creep up along walls and ceilings, to climb using the most slender of cracks in mortared stone, the finest of fissures on a beam or a pillar. To turn the tables on anyone who might be following him, to become their shadow instead. She didn’t escalate those teachings to what she actually did when engaged in such sport, but she did let them practice on her. They failed to surprise her every time, and their punishment was usually that of any youngling of her clan: being pinned down and tickled until they could scarce breathe.

She reminded them that growing up didn’t have to be unkind.

For a while everything was as it had always been. The only notable event came when spring and summer hung perfectly in balance against one another. Adam and Linden had gone to check the nests under the many eaves of the palace - there was a cat roaming about, and Linden did not approve. They liked the finches, chatty and fearless, the ferocious sparrows with their chests always puffed out and ready for a fight, the swallows that spoke of distant lands full of strange wonders. When they returned, they were informed that someone had indeed come looking for the young prince, but he’d not seen Boul, and Needle had made pleasant enough conversation with him.

“Nice as bread in milk,” she described him, and Adam had to turn to Linden.

“Bland, she means.”

“Is that… good?” he asked hesitantly.

Needle laughed a little. “Good enough. Bland hardly ever asks questions. Don’t neither of ye worry about it, I’ll be dealing with him if he’s for poking his fine an’ elegant nose in our little pie.”

Adam made his own minor inquiries, through Culli-maid and a few of Arditty’s suitors, with whom he’d made friends after they’d be cast aside by the fickle young woman. He had to, because as summer gained strength they began to see less and less of Needlemaw, and more and more Boul would report that she’d gone off to distract the lurking presence.

Bread in Milk, he found out, was Prince William of Astings, about to become sixteen when autumn arrived that year. He had to agree with Needlemaw’s opinion: William was intelligent enough, smart enough, funny enough, capable enough. He was a whole of ‘enough’ without any single exceptional point to his favor. Even his looks were appealing enough and little else. He welcomed Adam’s overtures of friendship, the younger boy once again having the advantage of being 'safe’; Richard knew he faced no competition for the crown there.

For the life of him Adam couldn’t tell what Needlemaw saw in William that kept her from making the older prince disappear. He didn’t fool himself as to what she was and what she could do; he’d had plenty of time to learn that she was the least patient of them all, and that by a very broad margin. He’d half expected her to come back from one of her forays with William chewing on one of the older prince’s limbs, the rest of him gone into the blackness of the maw beyond the needle-like teeth. But William was alive, and she kept going off with him at least once a week.

They missed her, and Adam was the first to tell her so, just as the first leaves began to turn. It brought the redcap to perfect stillness.

“It’s not in a silly way or anything,” Linden hurried to add as they stood, stalwart as ever, by Adam’s side.

“Very little of what ye all do has ever been silly,” Needle replied, her voice low and full of unknown currents.

“Even the kelpie?”

“Dealing with the kelpie were dangerous,” she replied. “But never silly. If yui’d been silly then, none of us would be here and the water-horse would be awful well fed.” She dropped to a crouch before them; both Linden and Adam were beginning to shoot up, the first more than the latter, day by day growing further away from childhood. But she was still taller than both; only Boul outstripped her in both height and mass. “Why would ye miss me? There’s a handful, a dozen, a hundred like me that could take me place tomorrow if aught came on me head.”

“Yes, but they wouldn’t be you,” Adam replied. “They wouldn’t have come climbing with us, they wouldn’t know the secret ways into the caves, they wouldn’t have done and said and shared all the things we’ve done with you. They wouldn’t be Needlemaw, they’d just be someone else.”

Linden shrugged. “And don’t say they’d be the same if they called themselves Needlemaw. They’d just be someone called Needlemaw, they wouldn’t actually be Needlemaw. Bit confusing, that.”

“In a grove of linden trees I’m nae sure yui’ve a call to be talking about confusing names,” Needle replied, reaching out to ruffle Linden’s gold-tipped hair. “I didnae mean for ye to miss me. I’ve not been missed ever before, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Just hang around a bit. When you can.”

“Adam…” She tugged her cap low, kissed the tips of her fingers and touched their chests. “I’ll do what I can.”

She kept her word. She lingered on long after Linden and Boul couldn’t come, as summer turned to autumn and then to winter, cold and dry, the air crackling with the season. Part of it, Adam guessed, was because she wanted to see William. But she spent a great deal of time in Adam’s quarters as well, much to the initial unease of the young prince’s companions. She charmed Dane by teaching him wrestling moves the masters of the palace didn’t know, and she allowed Beli to teach her letters, though she couldn’t be bothered with numbers, betraying her narrow interest when Adam shared with them both primers on tactics and strategies, and books on battles of yore. But mostly she was found sprawled at Culli-maid’s feet, helping with her knitting and her mending, fascinated by the way thread became fabric became cloth, and making a friend of Culli by her honest admiration.

For a while Adam fretted that someone would barge into his rooms and see her, the conversation with the Dowager looming large in his mind once again. Until Arditty actually did barge in, and Adam realized she couldn’t see Needlemaw. He wasn’t sure what the lady-in-waiting saw, it was a blur, a shadow behind Needle’s real shape, the shape of a big cat or a lanky hound, or something in between. It hurt his head and made his eyes burn if he tried too hard to focus on it.

But eventually she, too, had to leave. “The doors close, Adam. 'Tis the season of parties in the court, and she would have the guts and gizzards of any as didn’t show up. We all throw a party for the twins, each clan and burrow and nest and wee court. They hardly ever show up, but one cain’t risk the time they do decide to come, aye? So there’s parties and competitions and challenges and all sorts of posh and politics…” She stuck out her long black tongue and made a disagreeable sound.

“Will you be alright?” Adam was trying not to feel forlorn, and he knew he wasn’t doing too good a job of it.

She reached out to brush back his hair. “Well as can be. Will ye?”

“I always try to be. Winter seems longer and longer each year.”

“'Tis not,” she assured him. It wasn’t. It was actually growing shorter, because during winter the Folk in the Woods couldn’t have the full measure of their cruel sport. They had been applying a fair measure of their immense power to bridge that gap, and it was beginning to show. “We’ll all be back before ye ken.”

With that, Adam had to be satisfied.

***

It was spring nearly fully fledged the next year when his birthday rolled around again, and once again the Dowager Queen closeted herself up with him. This time there was a parcel from home, a basket of sweets he’d not had since he’d left, and a belt with a silver buckle - gifts for a child. The Dowager pursed her lips, her disapproval mute as she presented the gifts, and Adam found himself torn between his fear of the old woman and her questions, and some measure of appreciation that at least one person knew he was being treated unfairly by his own family.

To be fair, he never really thought of his parents anymore. He seemed to recall his mother had wept when his father had set him in the coach that had brought him to the palace, but it seemed so long ago sometimes that he didn’t trust the memory. It was hard to love people who had forgotten him so thoroughly, who never wrote, who thought he was still nine years old. Even Lemony-Leminy found a more apt peace offering for his vexing charge, gifting him access to the Dowager Queen’s library, which was usually reserved only for those princes sixteen and older. It was given to him under the excuse of saddling him with more studying, but Adam knew that the years had taken a great deal of Leminy’s spite out of him. To some degree, he suspected the Master of Scions was simply glad that Adam had managed to stay alive so long.

William came to him on a foggy afternoon. The encroaching darkness was warm and full of promise, and Adam felt nearly sure he could hear the whispering of the trees after all, even ensconced in a big chair in the library, a treatise on architecture on his lap. Spring would end winter’s reign that night, and morning would bring his friends back to him.

“Adam,” William’s formality had the younger prince instantly on his guard.

“William.”

“I heard your birthday just passed. Fourteen, is it?” When Adam smiled politely and nodded, the older prince added. “And still standing by your choice?”

“I don’t see that the Queen gets any joy of her crown,” Adam shrugged a little. “I don’t know why anyone should want it so badly when she’s our example.”

At that William did laugh, surprised more than anything. “The things you say!” he chided. He drew a deep breath and looked out the window. “It should be spring proper soon.”

Adam felt even warier. “A day or two.”

William nodded. “I…” He hesitated, and then stretched a hand out to Adam, who nearly threw himself out of the plush chair; just because all the others knew he was no competition didn’t mean he’d not learned to be cautious of them. He stopped when he realized there was a small parcel on the older prince’s hand.

“Just… I mean.” William worked his lips into a thin line. “Would you?”

And Adam understood with a crashing, shocked sort of disbelief. “William.”

“I know it’s not much,” the older prince stumbled hurriedly over his words. “We’re not wealthy, my family. But I wrote them and they know I’m seeing someone and I didn’t… tell them much.” He ran out of words and rocked uncertainly on his feet. “And they didn’t mind.” A little sheepish chuckle escaped him. “They didn’t care. Shows what they think of my chances, ah?”

“William, I’m sure it’s not like that,” Adam protested, because he desperately wanted to believe on William’s behalf that it wasn’t like that, even though he was terribly certain that it absolutely was.

“Anyway!” The older boy rallied. “I just, if you could just… let her know that I think well of her. That I missed her.”

Adam took the small wrapped parcel gingerly, feeling a hard, tiny box inside the fine paper.

“I’m not elf-touched, you know. I went to the priests and checked,” William declared almost defiantly.

“Elf-touched?”

“Yes. When they put their power on you, on your heart, and you can’t think or say or do or breathe anything but them.”

“She wouldn’t,” Adam protested before he knew what he’d done.

William stared at him, then looked away at the world beyond the window. “Well, I suppose you’d know. But I checked. And I’m not. Just in case she’d think the present was for - Anyway. Would you get it to her? Please?”

Adam stared at the little gift, feeling as if something, some immense trap, were hovering over both William and Needlemaw. But he also knew he couldn’t refuse. The choice of what to do with whatever might be inside the little box went only to one being. “I will,” he assured William.

“Thank you.”

***

Against his best judgment, Adam kept his word. The foggy weather turned into pouring rain the next day, but the day after it was a rainbow-kissed drizzle, and he launched himself out to the woods, feeling as if the palace were trying to strangle him. When he met Linden and the others they all fell in a heap of glad laughter under the gracious linden tree, covered in early green buds. They all took time to admire the tiny mushrooms growing out of Boul’s shoulders, a mark that the young troll was, too, leaving childhood behind. They exchanged coming-back and staying-and-waiting presents, much to Needlemaw’s quiet amusement. Adam shared out the candies he’d been given, and they all rolled gleefully on the damp green grass, simply glad to be free of the cold season, glad to be together once again.

Adam almost didn’t give the redcap William’s present, but it would have weighted on him like a knot of briars around his heart. In the end he washed his hands carefully so he could present it without smudging it with mud. “William sent this for you.”

In the silence that descended over them, only the drizzle whispering over the new green could be heard.

“He didn’t,” Needlemaw had gone very still.

“He did. He checked. He’s not charmed or anything. He…” Adam sighed. “He missed you.”

“What a foolish thing it is, to miss the likes of me,” she whispered, picking up the small bundle with the very tips of her black, deadly talons. “To hurt on my behalf.”

“You’re our friend,” Linden replied simply. “It comes with everything, that. The good and the bad and the everything else. Wouldn’t you miss us, if we were gone?”

Needlemaw couldn’t answer. She shouldn’t, she knew. Her people were legion, an uncounted mass, a horde that overran and drowned. No one counted them one by one except their own kind, their own kin.

Except for one young mortal boy, an even younger troll, and a wild fey sapling, first in centuries sprouted by the Green Court.

“What is?” Boul asked.

“Who cares!” Needlemaw declared tartly, and threw the little parcel in her mouth, swallowing it in one gulp and tackling Linden in one arm, Adam in the other, picking them both up and running wild through the woods, howling like a moon-drunk wolf.

It was the longest time she’d spend with them that spring. From then on, nearly as soon as Adam met them she would disappear, returning only when it was time for them to part for the day. Linden could call for her, and she’d always unfailingly come, but it was obvious she didn’t appreciate being summoned so, and Linden grew as loathe of doing it as Boul and Adam were of asking.

They ended up following her, of course. Much later on in life, Adam would nurse a suspicion that they’d only succeeded in the end when the fairy maid had at last become too distracted to balk her pursuers, or when she’d simply stopped caring about hiding from them.

One early summer day, with Boul gone to rest for the day, Linden and Adam caught up with her in a gazebo that sat half over the waters of a still, gracious pond on the older side of the palace grounds. The pond had sat there long enough to grow shallow with the silt of many years, home to the occasional heron and family of swans. An ancient wisteria twinned heavy, powerful vines around the pillars of the gazebo and its deep violet blossoms made a nearly perfect curtain between its occupants and the world. For the first time Adam saw what William saw, a lovely young maid with wild and curly red hair pinned at her back in a rough braid, the predatory yellow of those bright eyes gone to a sharp hazel that seemed dull in comparison, Needlemaw’s mouth small and plain and boring.

He couldn’t look very long; his head began to pound if he did, because flickering under that sight he could still see Needlemaw, deadly and alien and dangerous, even as she combed long black talons through William’s curling brown hair, even as the two shared a bottle of berry cordial and a tray of grapes and cheese tidbits, laughing and speaking in quiet tones he’d grown to recognize from Arditty and her many beaus.

Neither Linden or Adam said anything, of course. They didn’t know what to say. Adam only knew that Linden was upset, and he couldn’t quite figure out how to ask why without asking why. They slipped away to the shady, cool space beneath several rows of ancient peonies and laid down, head to head, backs on the cool dark ground, staring up at the patches and pieces of the pure spring sky.

“It’s not forbidden or anything, is it?” Adam dared at last.

“No,” Linden replied curtly. “But it’s very stupid of her.”

“Oh.” Adam popped his lips soundlessly until Linden smacked his shoulder for it. “They seem to be fine.”

“Adam, do you really think Needle’s for marrying a princely sort?” Linden demanded tartly.

“Well, no. She’d be bored to death five minutes in.”

“Yes.” Linden shifted to rest their weight on their elbows, and Adam canted his head to stare at those angry, shattered, many-colored eyes. “Do you need me to explain what happens when someone like Needlemaw gets bored?”

Adam bit his lip. “Oh.” When he tried to pop his lips again Linden swatted him once more. “Well, she doesn’t look bored is the thing! Maybe William’s nice, maybe she really does like him, and he likes her.”

“Not her. Not the real her.” Linden seemed to think, chewing on their lip, and finally dropped their head to their hands with an impotent, impatient sound.

“Yeah, I’m not telling her, either,” Adam agreed.

#the fairy and the prince #linden and adam #linden the fairy #adam the prince #fantasy #writing #fantasy writing #my writing #original writing #boul the troll #boulders-for-brains #needlemaw #needlemaw the redcap

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zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

i am the anon who asked earlier about the character limit ! i’m ready to send my ask now-

so could you write something about a female mc (or gender neutral it’s up to you !) that doesn’t take a shit form anyone ? like when someone bother she just “tsk” before threatening them and the bois are like “wtf that was kind of hot tho-“ .

i can see them just simping for her like we simp for them and it’s making me laugh-

also i’m not really sure if you write for them but a small reaction of perhaps side-characters to her ?

i’m really asking for too much skdkdjdksowkw-

thank for reading it and i hope i’m not bothering you ! ( ´ ▽ ` )

Alright, for this one, anon allowed me to pick some Twst guys to react to MC

But, ahem…. hope they’re (and y’all are) happy with the way I carried this out

Neige (& dwarves) + Che’nya are also included, as they wished to see side characters react to this MC too

Let’s get started (bc it’s loooong)~!

HAPPY 1st ANNIVERSARY, EVERYONE!! 🥳🎉

-- -- --

OVERVIEW

Heartslabyul: Riddle is very surprised at her behavior and may scold her for it, but he secretly admires the confidence and will to stand up for herself. Trey is also taken aback, but well… if that helps her get through NRC, fine by him (he pretends not to see). Cater SIIIIIIMPS like duuuude THAT ATTITUDE IS WHAT HE DESIRES TO HAVE AGAINST HIS SISTERS (she’s his role model now). And man, do I even need to say what Ace and Deuce think? PLAIN FUN, and they simp, Deuce a little more than Ace.

Savanaclaw SIMPS and simps HARD. Ruggie and Leona due to females in Afterglow Savana being overall more respected. Not to mention IRL lionesse are in charge of hunting and female hyenas are the dominant ones in pairs. Jack I see as someone who admires people who are strong and can stand for themselves, and a no bullshit MC is wow… but perhaps he thinks maybe she could be a little more polite.

Octavinelle is a little hard to read. Azul first is very surprised and a bit offended, but once he finds out she acts this way towards everyone and anyone… Be ready to become his 3rd bodyguard lol. Leech Twins adore to annoy her, Floyd provokes her more with tugs and shoves while Jade can just throw ANY comment her way with that smile to trigger the instinct; she’s become their little plaything of sorts.

Scarabia: Kalim is SHOOKED!!!! The first time he hears her comments leaves him with a surprised pikachu face. Jamil is startled a bit, but man… SIMPS, and is like "you speak my inner thoughts".

Pomefiore: Vil is also VERY surprised, but admires the way she so willingly defends herself with only words and harsh glares (anger looks very pretty on her). Rook SIMP, yuuup. He's amazed at how just one comment and death stare from her has magic wielders cowering in fear, gets goosebumps from excitement when those are directed at him. Epel simps too! Like DAMN HE WANTS TO STAND UP FOR HIMSELF LIKE THAT!!! No more stupid etiquette classes, time to be tough! (Vil quickly turns his plan to dirt tho lol)

Ignihyde: Idia is ?????? At times, he's very intimidated by her, but on other occasions he's ready to talk back (this especially when he's communicating through the tablet). Ortho is shook, too. For someone who comes from another world and is scared by many possible scenarios in this Wonderland, they're surprisingly brave. He likes her! Get ready to be his Big sis

Oh man, Diasomnia… Malleus is surprised when he first sees the change of attitude, since she's nice in his nightly visits to Ramshackle, but very soon he'll be like "I like this human" Slowly becomes her simp. Lilia is VERY amused by her behavior and sometimes likes to provoke her. As soon as a threat is thrown his way, however, he'll be ready to throw one back as he smiles brightly. Silver is surprised, they all cower before her, how?! He may or may not simp, but he absolutely looks up to her (wishes to be more assertive like that). Boy oh boy… Sebek… SHOOKED; just try to say something rude to his Young Master, get ready for the loudest "EXCUSE ME?!" and following rant. Shooked and shooked TO THE CORE.

ALL the staff are very irritated by her antics, but the ones more vocal about it that have a little back and forth with her are Crowley and Crewel. Sam just laughs it off, besides it's rare for her to threaten him (mainly bc he gives special discounts for her).

BOY...RSA… Neige is SHOOKED, but rudeness never stopped him from making friends and pull a smile out of them (well, ya better stop right there bc she's ready to PUNCH). Needless to say, majority of dwarves are surprised too… except, Grant who just chuckles and says like Jamil "speaking my inner thoughts". Che'nya acts as if it's the most normal thing, doesn't flinch back or anything ("we're all mad in our own ways~ it's the norm here")

In the end, all of them simp for her, one way or another~ (and let her get away with a handful of stuff bc simps)

Heartslabyul

"Aren't you the cutest little thing~? Look at your lil' nose sniffing my finger so adorably!!" The [color] haired girl gushed at the hedgehog in her hand, carefully petting its colorful quills.

Someone sighed in irritation at her behavior, "Stop that! We're not allowed to pamper the hedgehogs like that, so cut it off!"

[Color] eyes narrowed at the intruder, "And who here says I care what you, or the rules, say? They're animals, pets practically. You need to show them affection for them to live long, happy lives, dumbass."

At the small scene, Trey interrupted, “Let's please act accordingly. Come on, we need help painting the roses." The 3rd year signaled the other Heartslabyul student to follow.

"What?! No, not fair! How come she's not getting punished for this when we get scolded for it?!" He raised his voice.

"Hey now, leave [Name]-chan alone, she isn’t bothering anyone. Be a good kouhai and listen to Trey-senpai. Remember vice dorm leader is just as respected as dorm leader here." Cater cut in, trying to somehow make things lighter.

"Bull-!" Before the guy could even finish his sentence, Riddle appeared.

"What seems to be the matter here? At this rate, if you keep getting distracted with unimportant things, we won't have our preparations ready." The redhead followed their gazes to the girl sitting on the floor surrounded by a rainbow of hedgehogs.

"Ah, I understand." Riddle nodded.

"Thank-!" However, the student was once more cut off by the 2nd year.

"[Surname] was appointed by me personally as hedgehog caretaker. Her activities consist of cleaning cages, feeding, and the important task of pampering them with affection and love." Heartslabyul's dorm head explained, "We do play croquet frequently, and many 1st years don't treat our animals superb. Not to mention, it is said the Queen of Hearts herself would pamper her hedgehog just like [Surname] is doing… Admirable, don’t you think?"

"Are we clear now?" Slate grey eyes looked sternly at his dormmate.

Defeated, the boy accepted. "Yes, dorm leader Rosehearts."

"Go help Cater and Trey with rose duty." Riddle dismissed the boy.

On his way out, a certain troublesome 1st year made an indirect comment.

"That's why you get informed before complaining about things~" Ace teased.

Deuce smacked his friend on the back of the head, "Shut it, we committed the same mistake when we first saw [Name] baby talking the hedgehogs."

"H-Hey! There was no need to reveal that!"

Savanaclaw

Full cafeteria, the worst scenario ever. Not to mention both [Name] and Grim were starving.

So, when she saw an opportunity to get in line for the (oddly) short line for [fav. food], she did. However…

“What the fuck’s up with you?! Just because you’re a girl ya think ya get special treatment, dumbass?!” Some random rude student said.

Oh, bad move, idiot.

All [Name] had to do was throw an icy glare their way and turn away slowly for the boy to tremble in his socks.

Human and Grim picked their full and finally headed to any empty spot available, which resulted in them sitting with the Savanaclaw students, who watched the scene unfold.

“[Name]-san, that’s some temper you’ve got-” Ruggie began talking, but was immediately silenced by the same icy stare.

“To hell with that, I am hungry and ready to destroy the world, so better keep your mouth shut to see your future.” The girl grumbled, taking the first bite of her precious meal.

Three pairs of ears flattened in shock, looking at one another to agree on what they experienced right now.

“Wait a second…” Ruggie thought, breath hitching after receiving such cold glare.

Jack kept a watchful eye as he drank his water, strange warmth crawled up his face. “That was…”

Leona, for once, looked awake enough. Green eyes with a tinge of respect reflected in them, teasing smile slowly developing on his face. “Seems like the herbivore has some fight in her… Nice, very nice…”

“That was… very attractive…” The trio gulped down whatever they were eating, before averting their gaze elsewhere to hide the blush. Except Leona, he chuckled silently before looking down at his plate to recover from the little display of power from her part.

Meanwhile, the otherworldly student and cat monster shared a confused look. “Weirdos… Do they enjoy seeing me eat? Yeah, not sitting down with them again.” [Name] decided.

Octavinelle

"Keobi-chan~!"

"Not again…" [Name] grumbled between teeth. Just as she thought she was out and away from the whole Octavinelle trio, these two come again for her.

"Let's go, koebi-chan! Azul wasn’t done talking with you~” Floyd grabbed onto her arm and tugged.

“You two never know when to stop, or do you?” Grim swiped at Floyd’s hand as best he could from the girl’s shoulder.

Then came the chuckle she hated most, that instantly ignited that fight or flight instinct in her. “Please, Floyd is simply stating the truth. Azul is adamant in speaking to [Surname]-san, it’s only expected of her to allow him some time. After all, he was so gracious to lend his help when she most needed.” Jade linked his arm with her free on and began walking.

“Oi! Get your hands off me! I’ve heard enough from Azul! I’ve declined the offer more than enough times for it to get through his head!” The [hair color] stood her ground as much she could, but the two towering eels still dragged her to their destination.

Floyd laughed, “Little shrimp fighting for her life when she’s already lost~” He shot Jade a look and his twin immediately knew what he wanted to do. They lifted her from the ground and began swaying side to side.

“What the hell?! Let me down, let me go! I’ve had enough of you! We’ve helped Azul more than enough already!” [Name] and Grim were left to flair and yell more protests while the twins chuckled and laughed at their predicament.

Eventually, they arrived at Octavinelle and the two-halves-of-a-whole students were plopped down onto the couch inside Azul’s V.I.P. office. The tweels left them with those sinister pointy teethed smiles of theirs, sending chills down the duo’s spines.

“Now now, [Name]-san, Grim-san, do keep your voice down. I’ve got a deal much better than our last offer. Hear me out, now would you?” Azul spoke, suave and sleazy as ever.

“No, cut it out already! Just accept I won’t-!” Her complaints were interrupted by the octomer’s firm statement.

“One meal!” After noticing he had their attention, the dorm leader continued, “One free meal for the two of you each day, along with some Madol… All for [Name]-san’s intimidation services and Grim-san cleaning dishes.”

“Make it TWO meals and it’s a deal!” Grim quickfired.

“NO! No, no!” The [color] eyed refuted. She leaned close to Ashengrotto over the desk, eyes narrow and eyebrows furrowed, “...Make it two free meals AND drinks daily, with a nice pay… and throw in some deluxe tuna cans from time to time…”

Grim perked up at that, eyes shifting from human to merman as they stared each other down to see who relented first.

Azul sighed, “Very well…” A gloved hand came forward, “Have we got a deal?”

[Eye color] looked into baby blue, before nodding and shaking his hand. “A deal it is, but” [Name] leaned even closer, right on the gray haired’s face, “Let it be known that just you fail once on giving the pay and it’s over, Ashengrotto.”

He snorted, “Oh, no need to worry about that, I always hold onto my end of the contract.” Taunting gaze mocked the [hair color], “The thing is, can you?”

“This damn Octavinelle people..!” [Name] felt fire light up her veins from anger and irritation at his words.

Scarabia

“Grim, look! We once more have a delicious cream cheese for you to enjoy with crackers!” The ever excitable Kalim exclaimed, reading a pair of crackers to feed Grim.

Before his hand could get any close to the scared cat’s face, [skin tone] hads grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Kalim, how many more times do I have to tell you?! Stop that!” An exasperated sigh followed her words. She let go of his arm.

Kalim (and pretty much all of Scarabia) looked at her. “No, not those big round cute ruby eyes…” The girl thought, feeling herself relent already. “Only for you… only for this ray of sunshine will I try to be less on the fence…”

[Name] cleared her throat, “W-Why don’t you… try asking Grim properly if he would like some first, instead of just shoving the food in his mouth!” An awkward giggle left her lips. “Was that better?! That did not sound better, at all! No!! It was harsh!”

Silence carried on afterwards, making her feel even more awkward and nervous of her actions. There’s a first time for everything.

“She’s right on that. You understand, don’t you, Kalim?” Jamil broke the silence, turning everyone’s eyes to him now. “As host, you should offer your visits amenities correctly, not force them upon them.” The dark haired boy remained focused on his plate of curry while he informed his dormmate.

“Oh! Of course, of course!” The dorm leader snapped out of his zoning out, “Apologies! Grim, would you like to try the cream cheese?” Kalim recovered his pep, bringing close the plate of cheese and crackers to Grim.

“Ah… No, thank you…” The monster declined. “However… I would like to try the dates you have over there.”

“Sure, no worries! Try as much food as you like! This banquet is for everyone to enjoy, after all!” Just like that, everyone’s spirits were lifted, and the party returned to its full swing.

From across the table, Jamil threw the [hair color] a smirk and a nod. She looked away with a faint blush on her cheeks.

Pomefiore

“She dares show her face here, dressed like that?”

“And with a stinky, dirty raccoon hanging from her shoulder.”

“As always, these pretentious idiots…” [Name] tried to steel herself, taking deep breaths as she carried on towards the Pomefiore common room. Vil asked for her presence here for some idea he had in mind and wanted to carry on.

“Fuh-nyah, this place always smells like perfume… Has me sneezing all over, eugh.” Grim rubbed his nose to ease the itching.

The girl giggled lightly, petting her companion. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the smell in a few seconds.”

“Ah, Trickster [Name], Monsieur Hirsute! Bienvenue à Pomefiore!” Rook welcomed them, as colorful as ever.

“[N-Name]? You’ve been… summoned here, as well?” Epel seemed surprised to see his friends here.

Vil stood up from the throne, “And just in time you’re both here. Could’ve done with a few extra minutes of head start, but at least you’re here and didn't arrive late.” The elegant 3rd year went over to explain his idea to the 1st years.

However, as the dorm head explained, the comments continued…

“Seriously, can’t she take the hint she’s not wanted here?”

“As a girl, she should know to take better care for herself.”

“Alright that’s it.” The Ramshackle prefect took a very deep breath and interrupted Vil, “Yeah, uh, apologies for cutting you off, but let me take care of some matters.” Turning around, the [color] haired looked over at the group that kept saying unasked opinions.

“Hey, you pompous people with deliriums of grandiose!” At the start of her screaming, Vil and Rook braced for the worse while Epel drew a very big smirk.

Everyone kept their dignified faces, sure that their dorm leader and vice head would have their backs.

“I dress bad? I don’t take care of my skin, nails, lips, hair? Grim isn’t always smelling nice?”

“Hey! What with that, [Name]?!” “Shush, you…”

“Just because I’m a girl you dare assume what I should act like?!” She scoffed, “Well, let me see you survive in a world far different than your own, disoriented and with no means to go back, live on a tight budget along with your equally as disoriented monster friend, with the only clothes you own being very mistreated and old uniforms students left in a rundown dorm!”

Everyone looked at her and murmured.

One of the students spoke up, practically laughing at her face, “What? Want us to feel pity for you? Sounds to me like you’re not trying hard enough.”

Grim himself was ready to burn this scum to a crisp, but thankfully, someone else stepped in to defend their friends.

“Oh? Like you’ve clearly not been doing?” Vil glared at the boy harshly. “Don’t think just because you’re good looking you have an immediate pass to be a student of Pomefiore, of NRC. Your grades are lacking, and for someone in this dorm to be that terrible in alchemy is ruinous. Seriously, an F in potion making? You strive to be as resourceful and tenacious as the Beautiful Queen by not being able to brew even a simple potion?”

The mob cowered back, shocked at their dorm head speaking that way to them.

“Doesn’t feel good to have yer flaws n’ failures spoken of, eh?” Epel yelled from a few miles back. He could see Schoenheit stiffen at the use of his distinct accent, but the farmer boy could care less in this moment… and so did Vil.

Rook stepped over with a friendly smile, placing a hand on the student's shoulder and on Vil’s. “Please rest the case, lest we want our hearts and faces wrinkle up from anger and stress.” The hunter squeezed the boy’s shoulder, applying pressure on one of the nerves to get the message across. In case that was not enough, narrow green eyes spared him a side glance full of ill-intent, “Any more comments like that, and your heart will be carved out of your rib cage and go in a jewelry chest to display as a trophy.” Was his message.

“Y-Yes, Rook-senpai!” The mob immediately answered and made their way out to somewhere else.

The actor rubbed the bridge of his nose at the scene, “I apologize on behalf of my dorm, those types of comments are absolutely not tolerated, but there seem to be more potatoes to wrangle than what I imagined.” He sighed, “But anyways! Let us continue with our original plans. [Name], Grim, Epel, follow me. We shall start with having you all take a nice bath and do proper skincare...and furcare, I suppose.”

“Oh, I would very much like some hypermosturizing serums and a bathbomb or oils to help destress, please!” The [hair color] said.

Vil chuckled a bit, “After that, you need all the lavender oils in the water.”

“Wait, does that mean…?!” Epel became unsettled and looked at Grim.

The monster finished the lilac haired boy’s thought, “We’re gonna end up smelling like a potpourri or somethin’?!”

Rook came behind them, pushing them lightly forward to walk in the other two’s direction. “Come now, moniseurs! Bath time is a great time to spend relaxing and planning your activities for the day!”

The rowdy duo only groaned at his words.

Ignihyde

“Oh, [Name] [Surname]-san, that was an amazing play!” Ortho congratulated while spectating the game going on between you and his brother.

The girl chuckled, “Thanks, Ortho… Did that specifically to show your brother not to underestimate a magicless human’s abilities in games such as this.” Sizzling could be heard coming from the older Shroud as he silently fumed, but his flaming hair betrayed his silence.

“That’s right, get mad and lose your temper. It’ll be easier to defeat you like that… defeat you once more.” [Color] lips turned into a mocking smile. “Talk shit, get hit, bruh!”

Idia desperately played his following moves, a supposed combo to take you down considerably. “I don’t believe you’ll keep that smile in your face for long.”

She chuckled, ominously now, “Ohoho, I believe I will be keeping this smile… and victory with me~!” The 1st year kept laughing as she played her last strategy, leading to his defeat for the 6th? 10th? time today.

The dorm head took a deep breath before he could yell his frustration out, hair turning a shade of dull red, telling the other occupants of the room of his temper.

“How’s that for underestimating the skills of a human, Idia? Tired or eating your dirt yet or not? Told ya this would only lead to absolute defeat-!” Before [Surname] could boast some more, Idia stood up and dropped himself on his bed, back turned to them all.

The robot boy floated over to the enraged 3rd year. “Big brother? Your vitals are erratic, heartbeat is quick and body temperature is on the raise. Would you like some help relaxing?”

“I believe it’s better to let him be, Ortho.” The girl reassured. “Wanna play a game with me? See if you can beat me?” She suggested.

The android quickly cheered up, “I would love to!”

- Few minutes later -

[Color] eyes stared at victorious play.

5 times… It had only been 30 minutes and already 5 times… She was beaten by the younger Shroud 5 times already!

Ortho smiles at her (or at least she assumed, with him keeping his mouth coveron). “This is entertaining, [Name] [Surname]-san! Can we play one more time?” Those innocent yellow eyes looked up at her tired, irritated ones.

“I- uuuh… S-Sure, Ortho..!” A strained smile stretched her lips.

Idia sat down somewhere near, teasing pointy smile on his face now. “How does it feel, [Surname]?”

“Shut the hell up, Shroud, you’re no one to speak like that.” The girl whispered through gritted teeth.

Diasomia

Blah, blah, blah… chatter, chatter, chatter…Loud booming voice annoying everyone around.

“Alright, damn it all!” [Name] slammed her hand on the table. “For the love of all that's holy, shut the hell up, Sebek!!”

Everyone was stunned for a moment at the outburst, Silver jumped awake at the shouting.

Sebek looked at her with the most indignant look, “Excuse you?! That is something extremely rude to say! Even more so because you interrupted my conversation with the Young Master!”

“What do you even mean?! You interrupted my conversation with Malleus in an even more impolite way first!” She reminded her fellow 1st year.

Zigvolt scoffed, “Only because you don’t possibly have anything of interest to speak with Master Malleus.”

“Sebek I swear to god!”

“Silence, human! Stop pestering us!”

“You are the one doing the pestering here!”

And just like that, both students began bickering.

Silver looked at Lilia, ��Don’t you think we should do something about this?”

The old fae sighed into his tea cup, placing it back down before taking a sip. “We absolutely must, Sebek’s voice was already inflicting a headache, now we have... that…” Red eyes looked at the brash underclassmen arguing.

Malleus, meanwhile, rubbed his temples at their antics.

“Children, stop it now or else-” Vanrouge noticed how his words were going unnoticed, so he decided to raise his voice some. “Children-” More shouting, silencing his call for attention.

“Children!” Lilia’s voice boomed around the room, along with the stomping of his heel on the stone floor. The surround sound effectively made the misbehaving students shut up.

“Thank you.” He said with a closed eyes smile, “Now, to settle your senseless screaming, why don’t we try asking Malleus himself what he believes happened, hm?” The bat suggested, turning to look into lime eyes to urge his master to speak up.

“Oh..! Hmm… Well… It is true Sebek interrupted the conversation I was having with the child of man,” [Name] looked at her friend with an I-told-you-so smile, “And I disagree with him, [Surname] was telling me very interesting things about her life and experiences in this Wonderland.” That made the girl stand even prouder.

“However,” The pistachio haired male looked at his superior with hope in his eyes, “I agree with his comment on how interrupting conversations the way [Surname] did is very rude.” Now it was his turn to boast a little. “But let’s not forget he interrupted us first, and therefore is rude himself.” Sebek deflated at that.

Lilia clapped his hands with a bright smile, “Problem solved! Now,” The fae looked at the tall 1st year, “Sebek, dear, [Name] is our guest today, treat her with respect. She is Malleus’ specially invited guest, let her spend her time occupying our leader’s time as she pleases. He invited her for that reason, after all.”

“U-Understood, Lilia-sama…” Zigvolt agreed against his will.

“Thank you, Lilia!” [Name] thanked at the same time Sebek spoke.

“Very well, let us enjoy our tea time in peace now.” Finally, the youthful soul sat down and picked up his cup to take a much needed sip of the amber liquid. “Young ones these days, I swear...”

NRC Staff

Shouting and yelling resounded around the meeting hall, leading Mozus to rub the bridge of his nose to try and ease the oncoming headache.

“Hello-!” Vargas was cut off.

“Not now, Professor Vargas, I need to knock some sense into this crow!” The 1st year yelled at the muscular P.E. teacher.

He sat down near Trein with a sigh, “They’re at it again this week?”

“Yes, they are…” The old man grunted.

“Been at it for 20 minutes now, can’t believe it.” Crewel tapped his finger on the wooden table in irritation, “Headmaster Crowley should already relent and give her more allowance if it means we can get our meetings done!”

“Absolutely not,” Trein disagreed, “[Surname] should learn to handle her finances better, budget things appropriately and spend the least on useless things.”

Crewel let out a single mocking laugh, “Really now? Have you heard what biweekly amount of money he gives her?! It’s not even enough to buy a steady supply of meals from the shop for a week!”

Soon enough, the two teachers joined their respective sides in the battle of Crowley vs. [Name], while Vargas watched with the most uncomfortable look.

And, after a good more minutes of shouting, the last call was given…

“You know what?! I’m done!!” The [color] haired girl made her way to the exit, “It’s always “Because I am so kind” blah blah blah! But you never do anything to help me!” She made a bad impression of the Director on purpose.

“It’s not only me in the dorm, it’s also Grim! And he’s a sizable cat, he needs to eat properly and plenty, too!” She turned around before leaving, “Seriously, Headmaster, I don’t know anymore how to scream at you that we need help! We’re sleeping on dirt every night, we’re breathing mold and dust everyday inside the rundown dorm! We need food and clothes and bedsheets and hygiene products!”

[Name] had to take a deep breath before saying her last words, “If you’re not going to help me search for a way back home, then… at least help me make that crumbling building feel like home…” With that, the heavy door shut close.

The young girl quickly made her way out of the building, trying her best to keep her emotions at bay and not let them overflow. Out of habit, or maybe it was her consciousness trying to search for comfort, her feet carried her to Mr.S’s Mystery Shop.

The simple ringing of the bell signaling a new customer already made her feel better.

“Welcome, little devil! What can I help you with today?” Sam greeted with his typical energy.

The [hair color] sighed in relief, making her way to the counter. “Hello, Sam.”

“Aaah, another fruitless fight with the Headmaster?” The shopkeep inquired, identifying that tired tone in her voice.

“Indeed…” She let head lay upon her crossed arms as the rest of her body leaned on the counter. “I ask myself why I even keep trying it, nothing will ever change…”

A shadow friend pat her head to try and comfort her.

“Because you’re perseverant and a fighter, and wish to have a school life as nice as the one your friends in established dorms live. It’s not an unjustified fight.” The mysterious clerk said, full confidence in his words.

“You believe so?” Curious [color] eyes looked at his moving figure.

“Of course! Everyone else has a nice room to sleep in, why shouldn’t you? Besides, the Headmaster decided to take you in, a responsibility he can’t ignore.” He placed a small mug in front of your head, “Go ahead, take a drink, it’ll help you in more ways than you can think of.”

Carefully unwinding from her position, a hand took the mug and brought it under her nose. One sniff and the girl could tell this was [fav. drink]. “Sam, I’m-! How did- How did you know this is my favorite?!” A pleasant surprise that brought a smile to her lips.

“You always buy it, guess you must really like it.” Magenta eyes watched as she took a sip, “Comfort food and drinks are perfect after an upsetting experience.”

[Name] threw him a tender smile, “Thank you, Sam. All you do for me and Grim is very appreciated… Don’t think I don’t notice those special discounts.”

All he did was wink at her as he turned to welcome a new customer.

Royal Sword Academy

Helping put up a stage was not an easy task. Could anyone really blame her for being so mad at everyone who got in her way after being overworked like that?

Who knows how many times she yelled at people to hurry up and move away from her path already.

And it just so happened a playful cat decided to scare the soul out of the 1st year at the worst moment, just as she was trying to take a short power nap.

“Found mew (pronounce it as m-you-w pls)!” A floating head and apparently dismembered arms appeared before [Name], hands falling on her shoulders.

She screamed bloody hell at the boy, “WHAT THE F-CK, CHE’NYA?!?!” A coughing fit followed due to the sudden loud yelp, “That was,” Cough, “My heart I just spat out!”

Meanwhile, the RSA student laughed his head off at the startled girl.

It irritated her, “And what do you think you’re doing laughing like that?! I could’ve tore a vocal cord or actually have a heart attack, you dumb cat!”

Oh… Never in his life had he been called that, at least not that he remembered.

They remained in silence for a while.

Eventually, Alchemi giggled once more “Aha~, nice to see you’re mad too! Told nya it was the norm here~”

The [hair color] nodded in mock agreement, “Yeah, can finally see all of you are damn BONKERS!”

~°~ ~°~

This boy… what is his problem?! Suddenly approaching a stranger all smiles and good vibes? [Name] knew this was a twisted world, but this was plain creepy…

So, of course, the fight or flight instinct kicked off.

Yanking her hands out of his hold, [color] orbs sharpened to the meanest glare she could muster right then and there. “What do you think you’re doing? I am not a princess, and I definitely am not your princess! That’s way too creepy to tell someone you’ve just crossed eyes with.”

A multitude of gasps was heard. “Ah, that’s right, he has tiny friends with him…” [Name] could only inwardly sigh and groan.

Neige himself gasped too, what a rude person!

A little giggle was heard, “That’s exactly what I wanted to tell him.” Grant whispered, amused by the whole scene.

“Alright, okay, uh… Gotta go now. Pleasure, or not, to meet you. Goodbye.” The NRC student walked past the strange students. “And I thought there was nothing crazier than NRC… B O I was I wrong…”

The dwarves looked at their stunned friend.

Dominic tugged at his pant leg, “Neige, are you alright? Just let her be, I’m sure she reacted like that due to being cautious about strangers.”

“Yes, I’m fine…But,” Round chocolate eyes remained on her retreating form, “Nothing has ever stopped me from befriending even the grumpiest of people! Or has it, Grant?” The brunet smiled at his friend.

“I suppose not- Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!” The redhead complained while the rest laughed merrily alongside LeBlanche.

-- -- --

THE MADWOMAN DID IT OMGGGGGGG MY EEEEEEYES ASDFGHIMKLF

HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY!!! What other way than to celebrate with LOOONG request including most, if not all, of the Twst characters!!

LET US SHARE MANY MORE MEMORIES TOGETHER!! CHEERS TO US ALL!!!

(P.S. OMG if you see shifting between fem pronouns, they/them pronouns and "you" stuff... PLEASE FORGIVE ME!! My brain got a bit confused in a part! Hopefully I corrected it all)

799 notes · View notes

juminly · 3 years

Text

Poison & Wine (Dabi x Reader)

Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia. Pairing: Dabi x Female!Reader. Summary: Dabi just wanted you to pour him some wine. Things just get a bit more heated from there as you when you get a good taste of him... and he just does the same. Rating: Explicit. (Minors, DNI) Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, Pet-Play, Teasing, BDSM, Desk Sex, Rough Sex, Slight Degradation, Blow-Job, Hate sex?, A tiny tiny bit of Gore, Doggy-Style, Hair-Pulling, Creampie. Word Count: 4.7k ~ –♥– There he goes again. Calling you a puppy and asking you to go fetch him a bottle of wine. Emphasis on the word bottle cause God forbid you got him something else, he was going to burn something to ashes and you would have to suffer the consequences, for whatever reason that may be. Out of all of the villains you met, Dabi was the worst of them all. You've heard much about him, those bright and deadly blue flames of him that strike both fear and bewilderment in your heart.

He was different from them all. You knew exactly why but never dared to say it.

You had no idea why he was in Kurogiri/Shigaraki's study and you couldn't care less. Or that's what you told yourself. Even before you found yourself accidentally associated in one of the League of Villains crimes, you had no choice but to join them, even if you were but a mere quirkless human. You used your talents to do research, aka gathering intelligence on the public's opinion on the war between heroes and villains in return for their protection, keeping you from getting locked in prison for life, for a crime that you didn't even commit.

Opening the door to the study, a small gasp escaped your lips which you immediately masked with a few words, the surprise you felt betrayed you and ringing clearly in your voice even when you huffed as disgruntledly as you could. "H-Here's the bottle. Where do you want it?"

Sitting in a disheveled button down white blouse, his chest was on full display, showcasing the staples that joined the curved lines of his pale skin with the wrinkled burnt flesh, the contrasting purple was never something you could get used to, especially when you thought about how he even suffered such atrocious injuries. But it was... his hair, stark white compared to the usual black that he wore, the spiky locks appeared to glow when he brushed a scarred hand between them while he looked up blankly at the ceiling.

When was he going to acknowledge you? Or at least the wine that you brought him?

Even with his physique covered in marred skin, his turquoise eyes gazing at you with nothing but complete disinterest, evidently bored with your mere existence as he always seemed to remind you with either his words or his actions. You could offer him nothing, annoying him to the point of contempt. Why was he so pissed off with you being around? Why did he treat like you were some sort of slave? You had no idea.

Well, he could kill you right on the spot so you had better do as he said, having the power to go down in flames in a split-second, turn you to nothing without a blink of his gorgeous eyes. It was a challenge, you finding him incredibly and criminally attractive, spending countless nights with your fingers, knuckles deep inside your dripping cunt, calling out Dabi’s name… wishing that you knew his real one.

Fuck him for making you feel this way. Literally.

If only.

"Is that how you speak to your Master, little puppy?" He smirked, the words dragging from his lips as he drawled teasingly, not even bothering to sit up and look at you as he addressed you. You were wondering why he didn’t even speak to you when your feet had been frozen in place, your mind travelling to a place so far away… a place that could never exist. One where you… "If you know what's best for you, come here and pour me some." Dabi interrupted your thoughts, his raspy voice portraying his bubbling frustration.

Fucking son of a bitch. Walking towards him, you stood behind the chair he was slouching on, looking down at him yet his eyes were still trained on the ceiling, flickering only momentarily towards you then back on whatever it is he was staring at. What the hell was he looking at? Tilting your head upwards, you found nothing. Just the plain white ceiling. Okay… weird. Sighing, you brought your attention back to him and droned, your own irritation with him growing. “Do you have a glass somewhere around here? You just asked me to fetch the damn bottle.” Idly lifting his hand towards his face, you watched as one of his long bony fingers pinched one of the staples by his lips, plucking them out without even a wince and he did the same on the other side, snickering at your reaction. He didn’t even have to look at you to see you wince at his seemingly masochistic behaviour, the pain actually a feeling that he welcomed with open arms, amongst other sensations that he sought. Right then, he just really wanted some liquor in his system and to spite Kurogiri. It was no one’s business why he wanted to do so but unjustifiably consuming heaps of the man’s favourite wine. That would definitely do it. “Quit your damn yapping? I swear, you’re worse than fucking white noise.” Now that he removed one of the staples, Dabi could open his mouth even wider, his long tongue lapping up at the small trail of blood that oozed from the small pricks on his skin, the familiar metallic taste settling on his tongue eliciting a small groan of approval from him. “Why would I need a damn glass when I’ve got a puppy to help me drink it all up?” Without even waiting for your response, Dabi glared at you from the corner of his eyes, his head tilted back with his mouth wide open, waiting for you to actually move. You didn’t know why you let him string you along the way he did but here you were, popping the wine bottle open and tipping it slowly, watching the vinaceous liquid flow into Dabi’s expectant mouth. Your eyes remained trained on him, observing how he let the liquid accumulate in his mouth, then swallowing it in large gulps, his adam’s apple protruding visibly from his throat, you found yourself mesmerized by the way it bobbed up and down as he continued to take more and more of the wine inside his body. The moment you tried to tip the bottle back a bit, easing slightly on the amount you poured, a threatening groan rumbled in his chest, making you roll your eyes at him. “You can choke on that damn wine for all I care. I won’t stop until you finish the bottle then.”

The corner of his lips, of his face to be more accurate, turned up into a malicious smirk, as derisive as he ever was, his turquoise eyes staring into yours as the wine began to seep past his lips and broken flesh. A blood-red trail began meandering down his face, tracing the skin of his neck as it began to flow freely, painting a stream of crimson rivers along the valleys of his sculpted chest, as if it were worshipping the ripples of his scarred skin and reaching down to the end of the path, right by his Adonis belt where Dabi’s low-hanging pants lied. You could feel your throat getting dry, thoughts playing over what the man that lounged before you looked like past his well-defined V-line. How much of a tease could he be? Not only was he sitting in an almost indecent manner, practically asking for you to drool and swoon all over how fuckable he was? God knew how much you craved him, the countless fantasies of yours where he just gripped you by the neck and railed you, leaving you breathless, with a sore pussy and legs that practically turned into jelly.

“Hey!” He snapped you out of your lustful reverie, realizing that you had already emptied the bottle, tiny droplets were now falling on Dabi’s face and trickling down his chin. He cocked an eyebrow at you, not bothering to wipe the rivulets of wine that joined the red roadmap that you drew on his imperfectly perfect banging body. Hngh, why the fuck did he make you this thirsty? “Yo, pup. You gonna stop spacin’ out and clean up this damn mess?”

Normally, you would’ve just walked away but something kept your damn feet glued to the floor, your eyes searching around the room for napkins. It wasn’t like anything in this damn room could be used to get those wine stains off his shirt. With the same hand you held the wine bottle in, you placed it over your hip and the other on your waist, informing him despondently. “There ain’t any tissues here so you’ll have to make do with that already ruined shirt of yours.

“You’re running that pretty mouth of yours. I’m sure you could put it to better use.”

“Yeah, I could.” You replied, without even realizing the implications of your own words.

”Then get on with it.” Dabi rolled the chair a tad and spread his legs even wider, giving you enough space to step in between them and you did exactly just that. With his eyes closed shut, he just let you take matters into your own hands, thinking you were the one in control. You didn’t think your actions through but you found yourself hovering over him, balancing yourself with your hands on the back of the chair. Leaning down, your tongue trailed over the corner of his jawline, the tender feeling of his marred skin strange but not revolting in the least.

It was exhilarating, finally being able to have your lips on his body, to know how he felt and especially the part of him that made him seem even more of a ‘bad guy’. In your eyes, he was the hottest fucker you could have your hands on and right then, your lips wantonly kissed down the column of his neck, sucking on his skin, looping your tongue around his collarbone. Hiking down his chest, you lapped up the crimson liquid, sucking on the piercing rings that adorned his nipples. Why was he like this? Why was it that he didn’t seem the least bit affected by this? You could already feel your body running hot, adrenaline rushing through your veins. He didn’t ask for you to do anything to pleasure him but this certainly came as an added bonus, his pants tightening with every brush of your wet tongue, every kiss from your soft perfect lips on his hideous self. The smile that turned up the corner of his lips was an involuntary one, a certain anticipation building inside of him to see how you would react as you travelled further down his ripped body, reaching where his pants were feeling tight as shit. Oh well, it was going to hurt if he just relieved himself as you did your thing. Now, would it? His hands were focused on freeing his half-erect cock from his pants and damn, it was a good day to have gone commando and be chilling with wine just streaking his body and a good puppy just licking it all off. Now that your lips had already found his rib cage, intricately and delicately licking all traces of red from his skin, a small yelp escaped you as your upper lip got caught on one of the staples. While crouching down so you could tend to his abs, completely ignoring the nick of your lips, Dabi grabbed your chin and tilted your head up before your knees could touch the floor, before you could finally get to the part you’ve always dreamed of. Licking his abs. With your eyes locked on turquoise, you gulped loudly as he hunched forward abruptly, capturing your upper lip between his and sucked lazily, dragging his tongue lazily over the bit of blood that dripped from your soft flesh. To keep yourself from falling, you stabilized yourself with your hands on his knees, reeling over him hungrily as he teased you by letting his tongue delve into your mouth, brushing against the roof of your mouth, having you let out an involuntary preen at the shivering sensation that washed over you. Before you could even kiss him back or even get a better taste of him, he broke your bind with a final suck, licking his lips as he slouched back against the chair once again. Fuck. You knew that he was packing under the belt but holy shit, you weren’t expecting to see Jacob’s Ladder pierced from the base of his cock right to his tip. His loose grip on his length made your mouth water, your mind certainly no longer focused on his abs but on the way you saw his thick shaft lay heavy in his palm, hardening by the second as he brushed the underside with his thumb. “You’re really provin’ to be a bad pup. There’s still some wine left.” Giving him your best glare, you propped yourself comfortably between his thighs, slapping his hand away from his cock, earning you a warning glare of his own. “Shut up. I’ll get to it later. Let me help you with this.” You grumbled, wrapping your lithe fingers around his girth with one hand, dragging your fingers up and down the underside of his cock, feeling the bumps of the cool metal in the experimental trail you drew, just to gauge his reaction. Staring at you with half-lidded eyes, his face stretched into a lazy smirk, his tongue wetting his lower lip in a swift sweep. “You’re just hungry for my cock, huh? Could’ve just said so.” Lifting his hands to cradle the back of his head, he was ready to enjoy the show. Prying your mouth slightly ajar, you began by giving him kitten licks around his tip with your palm squeezed the base of his cock, focusing on pumping him with a steady rhythm. Your curiosity guided you as you enveloped his tip with your mouth, suckling on it harder while your tongue swept on the underside of his shaft, teasing him around the metal circle you found there then up to his slit, feeling the salty taste of his pre-cum hit your tongue. You really tried, really did but ultimately failed when you moaned appreciatively as he got thicker inside your mouth, motivating you to open even wider and take him even deeper into your mouth, releasing your hands to tend to his balls, kneading them with enough pressure to have him twitch against your tongue. Your eyes fleeted up towards him, finding Dabi still wearing the stoically unimpressed expression he usually had. You had a fucking mouthful of his cock and he wasn’t even batting an eyelash. What kind of self-control did this guy have? “Didn’t know that you like having your mouth full of cock, puppy.” He chuckled deep and low, the rumbling only infuriating you… and arousing you too. Lowering yourself down further, you flattened your tongue against him, letting it glide over his hard cock, sucking him deeper as while you hollowed your cheeks, choking slightly the moment he hit the back of your throat. Wait… he wasn’t all the way in yet! You were going to have to ease him even further inside in your next try. Sucking in a deep breath, you swirled your tongue around his length languorously, making sure that every bit of him was warm and slick, your mouth feeling immediately lighter as you suckled on his tip. Just thinking about how big he is had you squirming, your panties growing slick with the thought of him stretching your tight pussy with his thick cock. With your strong resolve, you relaxed your jaw and swallowed him whole this time, bobbing your head over him as drool dripped from your lips, the wet noises of your sucking getting louder as you moved with smug eagerness. If you were looking to get a reaction out of him, well… you were better off looking elsewhere.

“You’re gonna keep wagging your tail like a bitch in heat?” You suddenly felt his hand on you, gripping your hair harshly. He yanked your head away from him, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a loud wet pop, you licked up the drool seeping from the corner of your mouth. “You wanna choke on my dick or stuff your dripping pussy with me?” He spoke harshly between his teeth, the aggression in his words making your core clench with need, fucking reeling just for him to finally fuck you the way you always wanted. “You’re drooling for my cock and I’m being nice enough to ask you what you want. Answer me.”

With your lips parted, you gasped for air, the heat pooling between your legs was something that you could no longer ignore despite the fact that you hated how much your body just ached him. ”Get your fucking hands off me.” Gripping his hand tightly, you sank your nails into his skin and removed it from the crown of your head and back to his side. “Since you asked me, ‘nicely’, what I want…” You spat venomously at him, unzipping your pants and popping the button before shimmying out of them, your hips moving side to side as you slid your panties down along with it, turning around to step your feet out of them, exposing your bare ass to Dabi’s now slightly more interested eyes. “Mhm… I always thought you had a nice ass, puppy but I’m actually impressed.” You felt a bit smug that he found you at least kinda attractive, or that’s at least what you thought he was trying to say. You were able to get it up for him and please him thoroughly with your mouth, so it seemed fair to assume so. Still, why the fuck did you care what he thought of you? You really… really hated how cold and impassive he was with you.

“Fuck you, Dabi.” You growled out. With your hands settling on either side of his head, gripping the back of his chair while you placed one knee on it and then the other, finally straddling him and feeling the tip of his erection brushed against your lips.

“Haha, most gladly. But this is not gonna go the way you want.” Mocking you with a derisive smirk, his hands grabbing onto your waist and lifting you off the chair as he stood and kicked the damn thing away from him. With your feet now dangling off the floor, he grinned widely, his face was the true representation of malice and chaos. “I’ll give you exactly what you asked for.” He breathed raspily, the threatening edge to his voice made you want to squirm in his hold yet you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you weak for him. You already felt the wetness of your slick pool at your core, drenching your lips and drip down your inner thighs, a sensation that you were so familiar with when you spent so many nights just edging yourself with wet daydreams, initially refusing to give in to your lust for the despicable man. One moment, you were facing and the next, he flipped you onto your stomach over the desk, basically slamming your body onto the wooden surface, spreading your legs apart while you scrambled to plant your feet on the floor, reaching for the edge of the desk and gripping it with all your might. You were right in doing so because the second you were parallel to the floor, Dabi lined his cock at your entrance and thrust violently inside of you, impaling you as he stretched your tight walls with no prelude whatsoever. The mixture of pleasure of being filled so deliciously made you cry out but didn’t keep you from wincing, your breath coming out in gasp at the sore sensation in your pussy, having been jabbed into so abruptly. “Still too early to whine, puppy. We’re just getting started.” He chuckled mockingly, his voice still as monotonous and raspy as it had always been, as if he wasn’t so strenuously splitting you with his cock. With his hands at your hips, his bruising grip held you tightly in place as he rocked his hips against you, the wet sounds of your sopping pussy milking him as his balls slapped against you, electrifying tremors racking through your legs with the intensity of his assault. You didn’t mind the manhandling, it was hot and like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Holy fucking shit… you didn’t know that Jacob’s Ladder would feel this good, adding another layer of stimulation that had your eyes roll back. You had never been fucked like this before and the sounds that came from your lips were a true testament to that. You were never really a loud one in bed but Dabi was making you moan loudly, your tight core sucking him in every time he pulled your hips to him, slamming into you and sheathing himself fully inside of you, the tip of his cock grazing your sweet spot only for a split second before he pulled back, removing himself completely out of you just to hear you keen loudly for him, begging for his cock, especially when you felt the cool metal dragged out of your walls. “Hah… fuck fuck… fuck me harder, damn it!” You screamed through heaving gasps, your voice muffled as you spoke against the hard surface beneath you, holding on to it with your dear life as it began rocking under you every time he pummelled you. The strength he put into each thrust was more than enough to have your legs quaking, your sense of equilibrium teetering on the edge, just like your sanity was. He felt way too fucking good and you wanted more. “Aren’t you a greedy little bitch, huh?” He drawled, unable to keep himself from laughing out loud. You were really proving yourself to be such a good puppy for him and he was definitely starting to get more and more into this. “Milking my cock like this and you still want more?” His unrelenting rhythm in which he was fucking you slowed after every few harsh thrusts, allowing your pussy to swallow him whole, your inner walls just tightening around him, the wet contractions accompanied by your annoyingly sweet whines intoxicating him even more that the full-bodied wine he emptied. He always wanted to have such a good pet like you, with a pussy as ready and welcoming as yours yet strong enough to handle him just as he was. “You just really want me to wreck you, puppy. How long have you been fantasizing about me fucking you like this?” He asked, his raspy timbre wavering slightly as his breath quickened, pleasure making his walls slowly crumbled but what really mattered still remained. He was the one in control. “Answer me, bitch.” He didn’t have to sugarcoat things for you, take it easy on you or treat you like you were fragile. Reaching forward, he laced his fingers into your locks, latching on your hair and pulling your head back, forcing you off the desk to look into his cruel turquoise orbs. He really wished he had a collar wrapped around your pretty little neck and a chain that he could just pull on. For now, your hair would make do.

“Yesssss… fuck mee, yesss. I hate you so much for this, Dabi.” You mewled out, the knot in your stomach becoming excruciatingly tighter, the eminent pulsing of your ravaged core assuring that your release was near. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The feeling of your hair being tugged on your scalp had your eyes burning, tears forming in the corner of your eyes but it wasn’t only from the stinging sensation that was borderline abusive. And you loved it. “Hate me all you want.. I know you’ve been fucking yourself to the thought of me.” Dabi droned, a teasing lilt to his tone that set you aflame and your blood boiling. What he said was unfortunately true and who were you to deny it. Nodding in response to him or to your own thoughts, you weren’t entirely sure. All you knew was that you absolutely loved how he was using you like the pet that you were. His fuck toy.

“Don’t try to be proud. I can feel your pussy clamping my cock harder now.” Driving himself into you, his cock pushed even deeper inside of you when you arched your back, pushing your ass up and getting him to penetrate you even more. “You like it rough, don’t ya?” For the first time since he started fucking you, a deep groan ripped from his throat, exhaling through gritted teeth as the pleasure of being enveloped by your warmth finally started creeping on to him, managing to break through the stronghold that was his emotionless demeanor. He didn’t expect you to feel so damn good and he just needed so much more of you, feeling himself get closer to his orgasm as his cock began to twitch inside you, your pussy squeezing him even tighter with you being right over the edge of falling apart. Just a few more thrusts and he was gone. Pulling even harder on your hair, you raised yourself onto your elbows, crying out as Dabi was now repeatedly hitting you exactly where you needed him to, the one hand he had on your hips thankfully keeping you in place while he pumped himself into you, the pace of his thrusts faltering as your release came crashing down on you. Your choked moans threw him off, the meek sounds tumbling from your lips had him wondering why the fuck it took him so damn long to fuck you. Letting go of your hair, Dabi smacked his hands down on either side of you, rolling his hips to dive in to the hilt, spilling himself inside you, filling you up with his cum while your entire body trembled from the force of your climax, the ripples of pleasure still coursing through you as you continued to milk him dry. Dabi felt so damn disoriented and he wasn’t sure whether it was because of the fucking wine or the nutting he just had. He hadn’t come that much in such a long time and he really really wanted to just flop over you and cool down. Maybe go for another round. But he didn’t need a damn clingy puppy. Just a good obedient bitch he could fuck. Slipping out of you, he looked down at the mess that he made out of you, licking his lips as he spread your cheeks apart, watching his cum ooze out of you and drip to the floor. Your inner thighs were glistening with your own slick and fuck, didn’t you have a pretty pussy? It looked good and felt good too. Maybe next time, he’d have a taste of it too. If he felt like it. He didn’t have the chance to look at you before but examining you now and after fucking you, you were much better than he thought you would be. Pulling his pants back on, he zipped his pants and began scuffing away, throwing a bored glance back at you before walking out the door. “You were a decent fuck so I wouldn’t mind doing this again.” And right before he closed the door behind him, he added. “Clean up before you leave. Don’t need Kurogiri up my ass.” Not that he was going to leave him be anyways. Click. Now that he was gone and you were all alone. You finally got some time to let what happened just sink in. You were not ashamed and paid absolutely mind at the throbbing ache between your legs, the tingling sensation of numbness coursing through your lower body, thanks to the thorough pounding you had just received. The only thought that went through your mind, the subtle rise of giddiness mixing with utter satisfaction as you reminded yourself that you just had gotten the best fuck of your life. What a masochist you were. It was certainly a day full of discoveries. Now that you had a taste of this. You knew that you hadn’t gotten enough. And you would prowl for more. –♥– A/N: SORRY IF THIS was OOC, this is my first time writing anything of this sort. Tagging: @cleverlittlevixen here is some-dumpster-thing you would like and @hqissodelicate thank you for agreeing to beta this (I was too impatient to wait so I posted T_T) Please feel free to leave some love in the comments or some feedback!💜 You can also check out my Masterlist !

#dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #dabi x reader lemon #dabi smut #bnha fanfic #mha #bnha #bnha smut #dabi x you #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #touya

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cognacdelights · 4 years

Text

because she’s casual [5]

the romantic tirades of indie routledge series masterlist

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add yourself to my taglist

she’s casual by the hunna

summary: armed with a bottle of jack daniels, indie and jj embark on a drunken midnight adventure. after settling in the local park, they can’t resist each other’s allure any longer.

warnings: sexual content. public sex. swearing.

A thick, star-sprinkled blanket of obsidian had consumed the humid heavens above as the imperious, incandescent gaze of July’s Buck Moon bore down on the unmarked dirt roads of The Cut. The air was oppressive and muggy as a tepid, unrelenting breeze circulated throughout the silt-covered back roads, offering little to no relief against the suffocating swelter. A natural, dulcet melody of placid, cadenced waves slapping against the jagged, craggy shoreline and the occasional, gentle swooshing of the leaves rustling against one another filled the desolate streets - drowning out the solemn, sombre silence of the witching hours.

Leisurely, she placed one cautious, Converse-clad foot in front of the other as she walked atop the rugged, uneven stones of the crumbling wall. The dainty, lavender-painted fingertips of her right hand had laced themselves securely with his in an attempt to steady her stumbling, tipsy silhouette, as her left hand remained coiled firmly around the elongated neck of the Jack Daniels bottle. An intense, concentrated expression contorted the doll-like features of her caramel complexion - forcing her full, neatly shaped eyebrows to meet as they furrowed together and the tip of her whiskey-soaked tongue to peek through the gloss-coated confines of her peach-coloured lips.

Without so much as a sliver of a warning, she halted - taking several drawn-out seconds to centre her precariously tipsy balance. The loose, nonchalant grip she held around his meaty, ring-clad fingers tightened as she brought the cool rim of the bottle to her nude-painted lips, taking a long, generous swig. An invigorating, burning sensation grazed against the half-healed scratches as the honey-coloured liquor trickled carelessly down her throat - compelling the corners of her plump, luscious lips upwards into a wicked smile before she persistently proceeded in her intoxicated obstacle course.

Several inebriated stumbles later, the youthful Routledge girl had reached the abrupt edge of the dishevelled dry stone wall. She tentatively manoeuvred her petite frame around the single, pointed stone to face the winding, sand-coated road, her bright, mahogany doe eyes watching the shaggy-haired blonde intently as his boot-clad feet came to a casual stop. An emphatic half-giggle and half-squeal erupted from the depths of her whiskey-drowned throat as she leapt from the small height of the jagged dry stone wall - the golden, saccharine liquor spilling from the cap-less bottle as she retreated to the safe haven of the pothole-riddled tarmac, simultaneously dampening the tangled ends of her chestnut tresses and drenching the scandalously thin fabric of her low-cut dress in the process.

“Hey, hey, quiet, pretty girl,” his soothing, husky tone hushed her - the rough, calloused pad of his thumb tenderly caressing circles against the delicate skin of her palm, “we don’t want the neighbours waking up and calling the cops.” Her glazed-over, umber eyes peered upwards into his - the luminous, amber speckles glimmering celestially under the silver light of the full moon - as she guided his comforting, burly arm around her petite, flannel-covered shoulders. His thin, rose-tinted lips placed a soft, adoring peck against her temple as they continued their aimless wandering of the dark, vacant streets.

Reaching the dry, untamed grasslands of the children’s playground, they settled themselves on the rotted, wooden bench by the rusted swing set frame. His shirt-clad back pressed comfortably against the cool, pine wood of the seat as the doe-eyed, cinnamon-haired vixen perched herself atop his lap without any indication of hesitation - her exposed, sun-kissed legs draping themselves sideways across his muscular thighs. His brawny, possessive arm rested nonchalantly against the defined concave of her waistline as his gentle, unclipped fingertips absent-mindedly toyed with the revealing hemline of her sable-coloured dress.

Once again, she brought the frigid rim of the half-consumed liquor bottle to her gloss-coated lips, taking several lavish gulps of the sweet, fruit-infused whiskey. As she revelled in the exhilarating, fiery tingle that laced the lining of her throat, she tilted the square bottle towards him - encouraging him to take a drink. His large, paw-like palm grasped the body of bottle, bringing the gloss-stained, glass lips to his own. Lackadaisically, he chugged several mouthfuls of the sweet, syrup-like liquor, unphased by the warm, hearty buzz occupying his chest in it’s wake. Her adoring, mocha eyes watched him intently - shamelessly admiring the faint, whiskey-drenched lines of stubble that graced his upper lip and jawline, and the cadenced bobbing of his pronounced Adam’s Apple as he swallowed the infamous alcohol with ease.

It was only a mere few seconds later that his clumsy, yearning hand delved into the vast, junk-littered expanse of his cargo shorts pocket. Retrieving the crumpled, almost empty packet of cigarettes and engraved Zippo lighter, he retreated from the cloth confines. Effortlessly, he flicked the crinkled cardboard packaging open with his thumb, pulling the penultimate nicotine stick from the metallic foil and gently placing it between his chapped, coral-tinted lips. His thumb grazed the delicate clip of the personalised Zippo lighter, igniting the meager flame; he brought the floundering, wavering glint to the tobacco shreds, taking a deep inhale of the noxious, toxic fumes to ensure it was well and truly lit. She continued to observe his every move attentively, admiration evident within the luminous, golden speckles of her sorrel orbs.

Eventually, the audacious, tenacious virago grew tired of his lack of attention as he savoured every last nicotine-laced drag of his cigarette, grasping the half-smoked butt between her lilac-painted fingertips and dabbing the burning embers against rotting pine wood of the bench. Positive that the remaining shreds of tobacco were no longer ablaze, she carelessly discarded the whiskey-soaked butt within the over-grown blades of grass. JJ opened his mouth almost instantly, poised and ready to both protest against and question her dauntless, brazen actions - but before he could string his reprimanding words together, her velvet, taupe-toned lips pressed against his.

Cupping her blush-tinted cheek with his clammy, bear-like palm, their amorous embrace gradually transitioned from a passionately sweet kiss to an ardent, fervid affair. His pointed, pearly teeth bit down on the lipstick-coated flesh of her bottom lip, tugging roughly on the delicate, sensitive skin. A salacious, yearning whine escaped from the very core of her strained vocal chords - offering him the perfect opportunity to slide his whiskey-soaked tongue into her mouth. She welcomed his assertive, dominant tongue with open arms, allowing him to lustfully caress her tongue with his own. Her dainty, periwinkle fingertips latched onto the stained, off-white cotton of his long-sleeved t-shirt, her voluminous, braless chest pressing against the chiselled muscles of his abdomen - the titanium balls of her nipple piercings protruding through the thin, raven fabric.

The sun-drenched, love-marked skin of her exposed thighs tingled under the searing touch of his devilish, meandering hands - the calloused, unclipped tips of his ring-clad fingers encroaching on the scandalously short hemline of her tight, figure-hugging dress. He gave the hickey-littered, caramel plains of her thighs a fervent, zealous squeeze before continuing their ascent towards the patterned, crimson lace of her g-string thong. His sumptuous, cavalier attempt to trace a teasing trail along her damp, hankering folds was thwarted by the tight, commanding grip of her dainty palms around his watch-adorning wrist. A smug, sultry smirk curved the corners of her swollen, glacé lips upwards as she retreated from their intense, sensuous embrace, “no, tonight it’s my turn to make you cum.”

“That’s fine by me, babe,” his masterful tongue swiped the whiskey-sodden trace of her impassioned lips from his own, as his low, husky tone rasped a response. His dark, cobalt eyes cast over with lust and desire, watching intently as her petite, curvaceous figure leisurely slinked between his parted legs, settling on her knees, on the unkempt, grass plains of the park. An loud, involuntary moan slipped between his thin, chapped lips - a subconscious reaction to the ungodly, sinful sight of the umber-eyed, caramel-complexioned beauty in such a devilish position.

She fumbled with the stiff, metal clasp of his belt in her drunken, inebriated state, having to focus her whole, undivided attention on the trivial task at hand as she worked the ripped and tattered leather free. The tip of her spirit-laced tongue peeked timidly through the confines of her swollen, nude-toned lips as she tugged hastily at the tense, rigid zipper. Eagerly pushing the several layers of clothing out of her way, her clouded, mahogany eyes peered upwards at the anticipation-filled blonde, seeking his permission. He sent her a craving, impatient nod the instant his dark, indigo eyes met with hers.

Her dainty palm snaked itself around the flaccid base of dick, the mere contact alone sending an invigorating rush of blood throughout his member. She began to sensually caress the entirety of his length with gentle, leisurely strokes - however, her pace gradually began to increase as deep, husky grunts of encouragement resonated from the depths of his throat. An ardent flush of heat consumed her intimate area upon hearing the low, pleasure-filled noises, the intricately embroidered material of her thong dampening with each salacious groan.

Her taunting tongue tantalised the very tip of his cock, circling the head in painfully languid motions and placing soft, delicate kisses against the sensitive skin. She proceeded to take the tip into her mouth, continuing to swirl her salacious, teasing tongue around the head as she sensuously sucked on the hypersensitive fragment of his length - impishly neglecting the further expanse of his inches. His meaty, paw-like hands grasped the eroded edge of the bench with a monstrously tight grip - the rough, scarred skin of knuckles turning a sickly shade of alabaster out of pure frustration. A raspy, petulant growl erupted from the deep, yearning caverns of his stomach, his tone authoritative and demanding, “Indie.”

Spurred on by his deep, domineering voice, she took as much of his poised, hard length into her mouth as she could, her warm, sensual palms working the remaining few inches of his bulging span. A barrage of emphatic, enraptured moans filled the otherwise eery silence of the unkempt, neglected grassland as she continued her salacious assault on his hardened dick - dauntlessly daring to take more of his poised, pulsing cock into her mouth with each rhythmic, fast-paced bob of her head. He threw his head back in pure, elated ecstasy, his shaggy, tousled locks tickling against the corroded, pine back rest.

Thrusting his hips upwards in a subconscious, euphoric daze, he vigorously forced the entirety of his solid, throbbing length into her unsuspecting mouth, the pre-cum-coated tip pushing it’s way into the tight, restricted dimensions of her throat. Unprepared and unexpected, a loud, dissatisfied groan surpassed her swollen, luscious lips. He, however, mistook her throaty vocals as a sinful sign of pleasure - tangling his large, ring-clad fingers within the matted length of her cascading, cinnamon waves as he applied a gentle pressure against the nape of her neck, compelling her bobbing head to meet with his rapid, rigorous bucks. Her throat soon relaxed it’s whiskey-drowned muscles as she leisurely eased into the comfortable synchronisation of the rhythm, a tidal wave of adrenaline surging through her veins from the ungodly, sensuous experience.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” his assertive, commanding tone praised her - the telltale, familiar surge of euphoria building within the depths of his stomach, “keep going.” As she persisted in taking the entire span of his hardened, bulging length into her mouth, an inharmonious limerick of profanities circulated the open, desolate area - the eager frustrations of his much-anticipated release gradually consuming him. As the elated surge of delirium proceeded to build within him, one final, zealous thrust into the relaxed depths of her throat tipped him over the metaphorical edge. “Fucking hell, Indie,” his deep, enamored tone rasped as the thick, viscous juices of his cum dripping down her throat, his cadenced thrusts slowing with each lackluster buck of his hips.

Retrieving his now flaccid, saliva-soaked length from between her gloss-coated lips, he tucked himself back into the fabric confines of his boxers. Forcing the stiff, uncooperative zip back up, he spoke again, “that dirty little mouth of yours is going to be the fucking death of me, Indie Routledge.” A complacent, pleased with herself smirk plastered itself across the very foundations of her prominent, doll-like features of her sun-kissed, caramel complexion, satisfied with his reaction. The rough pad of his ring-adorning thumb tenderly swiped across the corner of her mouth - ridding her angelic face of any evidence of their sensuously sinful tryst before placing a soft, loving peck against her full, luscious lips.

A mischievous glint occupied the glistening, amber speckles of her eyes as her dark, coffee-coloured orbs peered upwards into his, “can we stop at Russo’s on our way home and get some twinkies?” It was the most stereotypical, unapologetically Indie thing that the breath-taking brunette had ever uttered; despite being enthralled in her bid to embrace all things devilish, illicit and beyond her years, she still remained angelic, innocently niave and pleased by the simplest of things at heart.

“If that’s what you want, pretty girl.”

Taglist: @bellaguarneri @drewsephsmiles @spilledtee @outrbanks @ilovejjmaybank @jjtheangel @obxlife @tangledinsparkles @jayjaymaebank @linctaviaxbellarke @rafecamerondeservesbetter @belledutchess @tembo-ndoto @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @secretmoonphantom @lolitstiana @blindedbyyourgrace17 @rudyypankow @milamaybank @sunwardsss

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

Text

In the Dead of Night

Title taken from the same Judas Priest song as before, “Love Bites.”

tw: horny (duh), blood mention, consensual blood drinking, consensual mind reading, consensual mind control, dom/sub undertones but only vaguely

the mind control does not occur during the smutty bits, by the way. that shit is foreplay only and it is discussed at length by both parties (I just wanted to play with Dracula’s fun powers and also as someone said in my AO3 comments: “THRALL SEX! THRALL SEX!”).

THIS IS A SMUT, 18+ YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

top!Jaskier, bottom!Geralt

please comment I am fucking begging you

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“Geralt,” the silky voice called out to him. It echoed off the castle walls, pulling the lawyer deeper into a state languid, misty stupor. “Come to me, my love. Come to me, Geralt.”

The solicitor, whose mind was still half-convinced this was a dream, found his body moving of its own accord. He rose mechanically from the bed and crossed the enormous guest room, not even stopping to pull on his slippers or dressing gown as he should have. Nor did he brush his hair back into place; it hung in a loose white curtain, framing his eyes and jaw rather romantically.

Geralt stumbled through the keep like a drunken marionette, tied and tangled in the strings of some clever puppet-master. The drawling voice told him to turn left towards the Count’s set of private rooms, so he did. His bare feet didn’t even register the usually freezing temperature of Castle Dracula’s cold stone floors. His skin was aflame with goosebumps but not a single one had resulted from the chilly temperature.

“Geralt,” the voice purred. The sleepwalker’s pace sped up as he neared the heavy oak door that led to his employer’s bedchamber, “I am waiting for you, my pet, and I am growing impatient.”

---

“Are you completely and totally sure, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, worrying his lip between his sharp, sharp teeth. Geralt nodded and tried his best to look away from his lover’s gorgeous mouth. It wasn’t working. “Oh...Oh yes. I suppose you’re quite sure.”

“How can you tell?” the solicitor asked, quirking a curious eyebrow in Jaskier’s direction. The vampire gestured as he spoke, trying to work out some of his fizzling energy as he explained his powers.

“Uhm, right. I should probably explain. I can read minds, you see. Telepathy was gifted to me along with the immortality, the odd sleeping hours, and the lust for drinking human blood. I am also an incredibly fast healer, I can turn into a bat, and I can walk up and down walls as easily as if they were floors.”

“Impressive,” Geralt smirked. “Care to demonstrate, Your Grace?”

“Perhaps at a later date; I’m not in the mood for party tricks just now. Not after what you just told me and what I just saw going through your pretty white lawyer-jargon-filled head.”

“So you can read my thoughts as clear as day, then?”

“Yes, but I don’t make a habit of doing it regularly. I only peeked in just now because your line of questioning had me in a bundle of nerves.”

“Going to bed with me makes you nervous?”

“I very much enjoy our tender nights of lovemaking together, Geralt,” the vampire admonished teasingly. He was trying to lighten the mood, to fully process his recently acquired lover’s peculiar request. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want you to suddenly change your mind or feel unsure going into things and only continue for my sake. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you woke up one morning and feared me for being the monster I truly am.”

“You are no monster,” Geralt asserted, catching Jaskier’s flighty hands in both of his and holding them tightly. He squeezed his fingers and smiled encouragingly when Jaskier squeezed back. “And aren’t I supposed to be the nervous one, coming to you with something of this nature and speaking of it in plain terms? I’m mortified.”

“I just don’t want you to be afraid of me, Geralt.”

The human cocked his head to the side and smiled, the deep blush that had accompanied his earlier request still darkened the apples of his cheeks. His open expression was so trusting and endearing that Jaskier’s heart would have broken if it were still beating. “I could never be afraid of you, Your Grace.”

“Do I have your permission to read through your expectations of this, should we attempt it?”

“Of course, Your Grace. Whatever pleases you best, Your Grace.”

“That’s cheating, darling. You know how it boils my blood when you call me that,” the vampire growled.

They’d fallen back into the pillows after that but the deal had been struck: some night when Geralt wasn’t expecting it, when he was fast asleep, Jaskier would bring his lover under his thrall. He would command Geralt’s every movement, keeping careful tabs on his mind so that no wrong moves were made and no damage was done. He cared too much for the mortal’s safety to risk anything.

But the mortal had learned that it was very hard for Jaskier to deny him anything, especially when it came to adventurous and lusty bedroom games.

---

Geralt pushed the door open and approached the bed, where Jaskier was reclined comfortably against a mound of pillows. His ankles were delicately crossed and he was draped in a long, flowing white silk night shirt. His fangs were already fully extended and his irises were glowing crimson in the dim light of a few lit candles.

“Kneel,” Jaskier ordered. Geralt dropped to his knees, unconsciously grateful for the pillow that his employer and lover had set out in preparation. The Count slid from the bed and approached his prey, breathing the heady scent of a lustful, eager human. It was a warm, earthy scent and it tickled him greatly to know that Geralt felt it all for him. Only for him.

For Count Dracula, the terror of Redania.

One of the immortal’s cold, calloused fingertips slid down the side of Geralt’s jaw and the solicitor shuddered instinctively, thrusting his chest forward and turning his face to the left to better reveal the pale, unmarked column of his throat. The Count released a feral growl and fisted his hands into Geralt’s hair. He tugged his head back, forcing the younger man to arch even further forward and breathe even more shallowly than before. All Jaskier could hear in the mortal’s mind, even beneath the fog of his vampiric thrall, was: Yes! Yes! More. Yes!

It was very encouraging. He kissed a torturously slow line of tooth-heavy kisses up and down the soft skin and refused to let the mortal give in to his urge to write. He forced Geralt to stay perfectly still as he laved his throat and Adam’s apple with his teeth and tongue.

He whined, low and long, and the Count released him to step back.

“Greedy thing,” the vampire chuckled. The sound was low and ominous; it reverberated dangerously through Geralt’s chest and forced a whine from his throat, his eyes still trained on the Count. The solicitor could not force himself to move an inch as he awaited further instructions from his Master. Finally, after a nearly painful length of silence, Jaskier murmured, “Disrobe for me, pet.”

Geralt’s fingers flew to the collar of his nightshirt, tugging the buttons apart haphazardly in his rush to bare himself before his Count. His Jaskier. His Master. The vampire placed his hands over the mortal’s and tutted in disappointment. The sound had Geralt reeling, groaning in utter confusion as he went limp beneath his lover’s ministrations.

“Slower, my darling. Put on a show for me. You’re so pretty, Geralt, and I’d like it if you remembered that. Unwrap yourself like a present, wouldn’t you?”

The white-haired human flushed a charming shade of pink and ducked his head. Jaskier removed his hands and sat back down on the edge of the bed. He watched with obvious arousal as Geralt slowly unhooked each shiny black button, drawing the material aside to reveal the planes of his broad, lightly-furred chest. He slowly slipped the offending article over his head and discarded it to the side. Then he paused, waiting once again for the vampire to give him a command.

“Pants off, too. I’d like you bare, my pet.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“What does it feel like to be enthralled by your love, Geralt? Do you regret letting me be your Master?”

“I regret nothing, Your Grace. Being yours like this...it feels as if my mind is far away and yet everything I touch is very close. If your skin brushes against mine unintentionally I fear that I shall fly apart; yet I’ve never wanted to be touched more desperately in my life.”

“Hmm. That is an interesting way to put it. Now, my love, come lay with me and let me touch you as you so desire.”

“As it pleases you, Your Grace.”

“Even bent to obey my every whim without question you are no less accommodating, my dear.”

Jaskier straddled Geralt as soon as the mortal had laid himself down. He shucked off his own silk nightshirt in the process, tossing it off into the darkness as if it wasn’t worth more than Geralt’s weight in gold. The Count ran his frigid hands down Geralt’s firm arms, clasping his hands and pulling them slowly, teasingly over his head.

“How strange it must be to know that I will not tie you down and yet you will not be able to move from this position without my order to do so,” the vampire whispered against the shell of his lover’s ear. Geralt moaned and tossed his head back, baring his throat once again. The human was practically screaming his thoughts at Jaskier: Bite me! Feed from me! Take from me and make me yours, Your Grace. My handsome Count. My love!

The Count wrapped himself around his lovely, willing victim and eagerly acquiesced.

---

“Fuck!” Geralt cried. He was sure that every nerve ending in his body was screaming in wave after wave of unstoppable ecstasy.

Jaskier was everywhere. The Count had released the hold of his thrall as soon as he’d bitten into the side of Geralt’s throat. Now there was nothing standing between Geralt and all of the wonderful sensations his lover was inflicting upon him. The rhythmic movements of Jaskier’s hips as the vampire fucked him firmly down into the mattress, the heaving of his breath in his slow human lungs, the little white flyaways that were stuck to his forehead with sweat; even the way his hands were buried fiercely in the vampire’s soft chestnut hair seemed to only further drive Geralt mad with lust.

There were warring sparks of arousal and heat shooting between the spot in his neck where Jaskier’s teeth were buried and the spot in his ass where Jaskier’s glorious cock was buried. The Count was an expert at mind reading and at lovemaking. He played Geralt like Geralt had seen him once play the lute and the harp. His fingers were expert, flicking at his nipples and pulling at his hair at just the right moments.

The young solicitor was nothing more than a moaning, writhing symphony and Jaskier was his wicked, brilliant composer. He sang at his Master’s order, grunting and sighing whenever one of the Count’s expert thrusts hit his prostate. It was even better knowing that every slam of Jaskier’s hips was matched by a strong pull of blood as the vampire drank from him. To know that he was pleasuring His Grace in so many ways at once brought the human to the height of joy. He mumbled a long series of wordless, gibberish thanks and let the Count drain him of his life force.

“I can keep going all night,” the vampire warned, removing his teeth from his quarry only long enough to speak. “I could drive you mad like this, Geralt. Would you like that? Would you enjoy spending your life under my spell, warming my bed and slaking my immortal lusts? Would you like it if I laid you out on a pretty velvet dais during the day and gave you endless books to read? Would you be content if I had you dressed and bathed for me by your own set of servants every night and delivered to my bed when the sun finally disappears?”

“Your Grace! Please!”

Geralt didn’t know if he was begging for it or trying to plead against it; perhaps both or perhaps neither. Perhaps he was merely begging for Jaskier to put his fangs back in his straining, yearning neck. But the Count wasn’t about to let him off that easily.

“Please, you say? Does that idea appeal to you, my pet? Would you like being looked after and taken care of and tenderly worshiped from now until your dying day?”

“Jaskier!” the mortal solicitor cried, clenching tightly around the vampire and forcing the immortal’s breath from his lungs. “Keep me forever, do not let me leave your side, Your Grace! Please!”

“Fuck, Geralt, I’m-” he cut himself off by sinking his canines back into his lover’s pale arteries and sucking in one last deep gulp of sparkling ruby nectar.

“Yes! Your Grace!”

They fell over the precipice together, tumbling through empty, breathless air as they came. The feeling of Jaskier’s fangs in his neck had finally given Geralt the perfect amount of stimulation to climax, messing both his own chest and part of Jaskier’s with sticky spend. Since the Count had been monitoring Geralt’s thoughts the entire time they were coupling, hell bent on making sure he was enjoying himself, Geralt’s climax sent Jaskier headfirst into his own shuddering finish. “Fuck! My love!”

“Jaskier!” ---

“You’re a marvel, my darling,” the Count insisted, forcing Geralt to take another sip of sweet red wine. He slipped a piece of sweet bread with jam into the mortal’s mouth shortly thereafter. “I am so lucky to have had you delivered right to my doorstep, ready and willing to fall under my evil spell.”

“You’re still not frightening me,” the solicitor replied. “I went to law school; you’re almost tame.”

“For that remark you shall be severely punished.”

Geralt rolled over in Jaskier’s lap and wiggled his ass playfully. “Oh no, Your Grace. Anything but that.”

“Get back here and finish your wine, pet.”

Geralt returned to his previous position and Jaskier ran a hand through his snow-white locks. “May I get dressed yet, Your Grace?”

“Not if you keep calling me that. If you insist on flaunting my title then I may never let you see a stitch of clothing again.”

Geralt blushed and Jaskier’s eyes widened as the mortal’s thought passed through the veil into his own mind. The Count laughed and fed Geralt a bite of bread.

“You’re an absolutely filthy little minx, pet. I’m going to keep you forever.”

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imalifegen89 · 3 years

Text

A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter - 5 - The Gemmond Incident

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis, Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Stargate SG-1

Relationship: Steve McGarrett/John Sheppard

Characters: John Sheppard, Steve McGarrett, Danny "Danno" Williams, PO Higgins (OC), Kono Kalakaua, Adam Noshimuri, Alicia Vega, Laura Cadman, Bates (Stargate), Original Stargate Wraith Character(s), Original Characters, George Hammond, Jack O'Neill, Catherine Rollins, Evan Lorne

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Swearing, Character Bashing, Not Catherine Rollins Friendly, Violence, BAMF John Sheppard, BAMF Team, No DADT

Summary: Team SG-11 goes on their first off-world mission. It's supposed to be a 'walk in the park,' easing them into the hectic life at the Stargate Command. But things have a way of going off the rails when this particular team is involved. One way or another, they'll prove that they've got what it takes to fulfill their mission.

-o0o-

The first official mission of SG-11, yay!

As always, Salchat, you are the best!!! Thank you so much for all your hard work. I'm improving but I'm still a lot of work for my Beta.

If there are any mistakes, they'd be my own.

Part - 1

Officers Quarters, Pearl Harbor-Hickam Base - Hawaii

The Naval Intelligence Command Analyst, Lieutenant Catharine Rollins, was tired. The 18 hour or so trips from Hawaii to Libya and back were taking a heavy toll and all she wanted to do was go to her quarters, take a long, hot bath, and collapse on her bed for a long, uninterrupted sleep until the next day. Both she and Harrington had been dismissed by Commander Joe White with orders to take the rest of the day off and report for duty the next day when they had returned to the base. Harrington had invited her to go out but she had declined politely, citing jet lag and the need to rest. In her mind, she had been cursing at the damn idiot to stop trying to get attached to her like a freaking limpet and just leave her the hell alone.

She sighed in relief as she finally reached her quarters without having been called away for something or other, despite her being off duty. That had happened a couple of times before and that was part and parcel of her glamorous career as an Intelligence Analyst. She entered her quarters, threw her traveling bag to a corner, and started taking off her sweaty and dusty uniform while fantasizing about a nice, hot, bubble bath. But being just a lowly analyst, she only had a cramped shower in her quarters. 'Ah well, at least it's not like I have to go for a communal shower.' She shuddered at the thought.

Her much-needed long shower turned out to be only fifteen minutes as the hot water got cut off. She sighed and got out, still quite travel weary. Then she found her most comfortable and baggy sweats, an old t-shirt that was a few sizes too big, put them on, and got under the blankets in her bed. She was hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before she had to go out for dinner.

Despite the physical exhaustion, her thoughts turned to the past few hours.

'Why is it that the handsome ones are always either taken or gay?' she asked herself rhetorically.

She had tried her damndest to flirt with the navy SEAL she'd had her eyes on for a while now. But the stupid asshole had been completely oblivious. She had been sure, when they were on their way, in that transport - his loud-mouthed friend had pointed it out clearly to the Commander. But the man had seemed utterly uninterested and even annoyed at his friend. Catharine had been reeling at that response, although she had kept up the pleasant conversation with the idiot, Harrington. Then she had seen the subtle drama between her SEAL and that rather unremarkable pilot. That had given her a clue as to the lack of interest from the guy. She knew she was a very pretty woman and was not quite used to her rather demonstrated feelings going unreciprocated in that manner.

'But he’s got to be bi, hasn't he? So there is still a chance. Claire was pretty sure when she told me that McGarrett used to go out with Anna from the Enterprise during the first year after he got his trident. Pff... I'm a much better catch than that woman, certainly much better than a damn pilot...a plain guy with dumb hair-do, at that...Argh. Besides, fighter pilots don't really have that long life expectancies now, do they? Oh, Steven, you could do so much better, really..' She let her thoughts wander about the latest individual that had caught her attention and his rather ungainly love interests.

She was dragged away from her musings by a certain ringtone on her phone that had only rung twice before. She sprang up in her bed as if she had been electrocuted.

'Shit, shit, shit! I should've anticipated this,' she berated herself, especially after what had happened and where she'd been.

She hurriedly got off the bed, found her personal laptop, and plugged in the special USB/Dongle she had been given about a month ago when she was recruited. She then switched it on, disconnected her internal internet connection to the base, and connected to a different server - a server with an IP address that bounced off several satellites and countries making it impossible to track the connection. She finished running the encryption she had been given along with the USB when a window opened on her screen, indicating an incoming call. She clicked the button to accept, with trepidation.

As usual, a black screen greeted her as the call connected. She had taken steps to protect herself as much as she could and had her camera already covered. She was reasonably sure that whoever was on the other side wouldn't see her either, but she couldn't guarantee it.

"Agent CR-17, this is Zero. We have questions for you," the disembodied and distorted voice coming through the connected call informed her. She grimaced at the 'handle' she'd been given. Then she took a deep breath to clear her mind and remember the details of the past 30 hours.

"Yes, please ask your questions," she replied when she was sure her voice was even and polite.

"You have participated in a certain meeting. Give us the particulars," the voice ordered.

'Well, that's easy enough,' she thought as she mentally listed the main points of the meeting. And then she launched into an account of the meeting that happened at the base between her, Harrington, SGC, and the SEALs, the gathering at the Wheelus Air Base in Libya, the points they discussed there, and the revelations that came to light about the alliance between the Wraith and the Goa'uld agents.

The voice was quiet for a long time before it answered. "Are you quite sure of this, Agent? They have seen our involvement at the Detention facility?"

"Yes, I am. I'd advise you to take precautions if you are going to conduct further operations in this manner. I'm certain they will be able to track your transporter movements. The scientists they have at the SGC seem very competent," she answered truthfully.

"Very well." said the voice, with grim finality.

"Now, this is your next task. Send the personal files of the members of the SEAL team who were involved in this meeting. We need to deal with this before things get out of hand - well - even more out of hand. Do you understand?" the voice asked with emphasis.

Rollins felt sweat running down her spine despite the shower she had just taken only a few minutes ago. Giving them verbal reports once or twice in a while was one thing, but sending highly classified personal files was something else entirely. But she knew that refusing was not an option, not if she wanted to keep her career or her life for that matter.

"Yes, I do." She answered the only way she could.

"Make sure we receive it all by the end of the month. You do not need to send them all at once. Take steps to cover your tracks. But make sure we have what we need by the deadline." The voice cut off abruptly, just the way it always did after it finished giving orders.

She stared at her now empty laptop screen for a few moments, trying to wrap her mind around the conversation she'd just had. Not for the first time, she regretted the circumstances that led her to accept this arrangement. Having a fat retirement fund to return to when she finally took her early retirement from the navy after putting the minimum years in, was a nice feeling. But she certainly couldn't enjoy it from a military prison or an early grave.

She shook her head and switched her laptop off. It was too late to do anything now. She had to concentrate on planning how to get around various security restrictions and get her hands on the files that were requested by her beneficiaries. She needed someone from the Human Resources Administration for this, didn't she? Then she felt a small smile creeping up on her lips - She knew exactly the person she could easily persuade into letting her take a glimpse of such things! Feeling quite satisfied and making further plans for her treasonous mission, she decided she was hungry enough and started to get dressed to go out in search of a proper dinner.

Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain - Colorado

Embarkation Room

(Four weeks later)

"I know you said renaissance age, but what does that mean, exactly?" Danny asked as he adjusted the strap of his MP7.

Everyone in SGC was issued FN P90 Personal Defense weapons. But the SEALs were partial to their own submachine guns and other weapons. The first thing they'd done when they began the training, was to raid the armory in the SGC to make sure they had those specific weapons and ammo they needed. The Master Sergeant in charge of the armory had gleefully sent out requests for the Navy to re-supply them with the standard weapons and kits for the Special Operators. The Navy had reluctantly given in, needing to keep up their standards.

"Like you just stepped into a Rome-Egypt hybrid planet in the 14th century," Bates replied with a grimace. He was not a fan of the planet. He had been on one of the Gate teams who had visited the planet before it was reformed by the SG-1. He hadn't been impressed.

"Hey, it's a nice enough planet,” Major Evan Lorne interjected. “Well, they were a bit uptight before, but then SG-1 sorted them out. They are good people now, took on refugees from Nasya and everything. It's safe enough for first-time planet hoppers. Besides, they are having their harvest celebrations this time of the year. Food, drinks, and merry people all around. And we have a standing invitation every year for the party," Lorne had visited the planet two years ago for his first 'travel through the Gate' experience and it had been a blast. He was very much looking forward to an encore.

"So, what do we do there?" This was from Higgins.

"Nothing much. We go and say 'hi' to the leaders, go to a party or two and come back home," answered Cadman. She had heard good stuff from Lorne and was looking forward to the experience as well. It would be nice for once, just to go to a planet and join a celebration, just enjoy the visit other than fighting or running for their lives, for a change.

"Nice," Higgins agreed.

The Stargate Command's newest addition - or the newly re-arranged SG-11, was waiting to go on their first extra-planetary mission. Four weeks had passed since Colonel Sumner initiated the first-ever SGC team combined with the SEALs and the CIA agents. They had all been heavily involved in training for all sorts of scenarios they could think of since then. Their days had been full of weapons, physical, tactics training, going through all available information about galaxy's bad guys, and then a couple of weeks spent in earth's Alpha site for field training. Sheppard and Lorne had had to beam down to Antarctica in between for projects at the Outpost and then visit Peterson Base a few times to keep up their flight qualifications. Altogether, those six weeks had been hectic and they were all looking forward to this outing. Listening to Lorne and everyone else who had already been to planet Gemmond painting a merry picture of their culture, had them all eager for the visit. The Wraith and the Goa'uld had been silent and hadn't made any noteworthy moves so far. They all knew that when they finally did, SG-11 needed to be ready to move. This trip to Gemmond for their harvesting celebrations was sort of a break before they had to go to war, so to speak.

"Dialing the gate now." Sergeant Harriman's voice could be heard over the speakers. He had started the dialing sequence for the planet designated P3X-422, aka Gemmond.

"Chevron One encoded,"

"Chevron Two encoded,"

"Chevron Three encoded,"

"Chevron Four... not encoded."

That was not the usual script during a dial-out. Sheppard exchanged a glance with Steve and turned back to look up at the dialing station. They were all waiting in front of the ramp while Harriman dialed. The day's duty officer-in-charge, an Air Force Colonel called Dixon, was standing behind the station where Harriman was sitting. He was also frowning at the diversion from the norm.

"What's happening, Sergeant?" They could all hear the Colonel asking Harriman over the speakers.

"Sir, the gate is not connecting. It's almost as if someone from that side is already dialing. You know, it's like, we're getting the 'line busy' tone," Sergeant Harriman guessed.

"That doesn't make sense. They know we're visiting them today. They usually like it when we visit," said Colonel Dixon, his frown deepening as he glared at the dialer. Then he looked over the see-through window to stare at the group waiting to go off-world. He grimaced as if SG-11 personally had something to do with the Gate refusing to connect.

Colonel Garry Dixon wasn't a big fan of the newly initiated team. His personal opinion was that the lot of them were too arrogant and cocky for their own good. And he hadn't really tried very hard to keep his opinions to himself. But SG-11 didn't let it bother them. They hardly needed validation from the opinionated Colonel. The man had only earned his stripes just by spending the required years in service without a single active combat tour under his belt. He had somehow landed his position as head of Public Relations for SGC, mostly thanks to his political connections.

"Well, dial again," said Dixon after a pause. The Sergeant did as ordered.

"Nope, still not connecting," Harriman said after the third failed attempt. The fourth Chevron refused to connect and the Stargate stubbornly stayed dormant.

"I don't like this. I don't like this at all. Something's not right," Bates muttered, shaking his head.

Sheppard stared at the Gate, thoughtfully. He could feel it in his mind. The Gate was trying to establish a connection with the input destination. He knew that Walter had guessed correctly; something was blocking the connection from the other side. Moreover, he could feel the Gate trying to force the connection, but not succeeding because something was lacking from SGC's side. It gave John an uneasy, itchy feeling in the back of his mind - like a puzzle piece that's been forced to fit into a place that it didn't quite belong. It gave him an idea.

"Sir, permission to take the Puddle Jumper on this visit?" Sheppard addressed the Colonel.

They had only just found this super-cool, little spacecraft back in Antarctica a week ago, and John had felt like he had been given a gift. He had been on the Chair running a diagnostic on weapons systems when the link had guided him towards one of the storage areas that was recently uncovered to show him the ship. He had finished the routine quickly and taken off towards his prize, with the mental connection in his mind laughing softly at his eagerness. He and Rodney had spent two days going through the ship top to bottom and declared it safe for flights. He had taken the newly named 'Puddle Jumper' (Rodney had insisted on calling it ‘Gateship,’ but John had exercised his veto power as the pilot and put a firm stop to that nonsense) on a few rides and returned with it back to the Mountain at O'Neill's orders. Jack O'Neill had promptly jumped in with Jackson, Carter, and Mitchell in tow, and taken it on a tour to space. He had returned after a few hours with all of them grinning like kids on Christmas, and then given his official stamp to put the Jumper on active service.

"What can you possibly do with the Jumper, Sheppard? We can't dial. The damned line is busy," said the Colonel, starting to lose his patience.

Sheppard mentally rolled his eyes. He knew that Dixon was quite skeptical when it came to believing in Sheppard's affinity for all things Ancient.

"I know that, Sir. But I also know that the Jumper's got a DHD in it, an Alteran designed. As advanced as our dialer is, it's still primitive compared to the real thing,” he replied. “And when there's the real thing, there's a chance that I could do something with it," he put on his most innocent expression and stared expectantly at the Colonel.

John could see Danny openly rolling his eyes and Steve trying hard to hide a snort. Bates was staring stoically ahead, staying away from the officer's spats. Agents Kalakaua and Noshimuri were staring at the Gate serenely, not letting this petty nonsense bother them. Cadman and Higgins were grinning ear to ear, watching the drama unfold. Lorne and Vega were doing the same as Cadman and Higgins, but they were carefully hiding their grins behind blank masks.

"So sure of yourself, Major?" asked Dixon, not bothering to hide his disdain.

It was obvious that he didn't believe for a second that Sheppard could do anything about the situation. The Ring was busy on the other side - there was not a damn thing they could do from this side until it closed, period.

"I don't see any harm in trying," Sheppard drawled with a shrug.

The Colonel looked for a moment like he wanted to refuse. Then he seemed to realize that it would be more fun to let John try and then berate him afterward when he inevitably failed.

"Fine then, knock yourself out. Just don't break the Stargate or the Jumper, Major." Dixon gestured grandly for them to get on with it.

...........

The team reached the next level where the Jumper was parked. The floor of the level had a trap door that could be remotely opened to let the jumper fly vertically down until it came face to face with the Stargate.

They all got themselves situated comfortably inside the craft. Sheppard took the pilot seat with Major Lorne as the co-pilot at his side. Lorne hadn't had the chance to take it out for a spin yet and Sheppard wanted him to familiarize himself with the controls during the flight. Steve and Danny took seats behind them in the cockpit. The rest of the team made themselves at home in the back where there was plenty of space for them and the equipment they carried.

"So, you think you can force a dial-in?" Lorne asked while he watched Sheppard going through the pre-flight.

"I don't know yet, Lorne. It's not like I've tried it before," said Sheppard with a crooked grin, not bothering to look up from what he was doing.

"Well, you sounded awfully sure back there," said Lorne.

"Let's just say, I have a feeling." Then he turned to look at Lorne and give him an impish grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

"Ah, Jesus! Please tell me it's not going to be like the time when we were doing that thing in Baghdad... Please! I'm begging you," Danny implored. His eyes had gone wide with what looked like genuine fear.

"Fucking hell, Danny, you had to bring that up," said Steve, trying to hide his fear behind annoyance.

"McGarrett, tell me that is not the case now - cos man, I'm gonna climb outta this tin-can right now." Higgins was already halfway up from his seat and looking furtively at the back door of the Jumper.

"Come on guys, relax. I'm pretty sure I know what I’m doing." Sheppard had finished checking on the flight controls in front of him and was now fiddling with the switches directly above him. He looked completely at ease, in direct contrast to the mounting fear in the atmosphere inside the craft.

"What happened in Baghdad?" Bates piped up from the cargo bay, stoic demeanor forgotten as his curiosity was piqued.

"Don't ask man. Just. Don't..." Higgins was shaking his head from where he was inspecting what looked like an electronic keypad with door controls.

"Oh come on, you can't just say things like that and expect us to let it go. Now you've got us all intrigued and shit," Vega cajoled.

"She's right brah, you gotta spill," Kono seconded. They were all getting increasingly curious as to what could possibly have these badass SEALs shaking in their metaphorical boots.

"Okay, people calm down. If we make it through this mission in one piece, I'll get drunk and tell you all about it - there’s no way in hell I'm going to talk about that shit while I'm sober," Danny promised the group, visibly collecting himself and.

"Stop exaggerating, Williams, it wasn't that bad. Got you all out of there, didn't I?" Sheppard defended himself with a full-blown, mischievous grin. Whatever he'd done, John was enjoying the memory, Lorne could tell.

"I was never the same again, man - none of us were - for a long time," Danny said petulantly. Steve nodded his agreement.

Sheppard finished off his flight checks with a chuckle and gently guided the Jumper above the opening on the floor. The technician outside opened the trap door, obeying Sheppard's signal. The little craft descended smoothly and came to a stop in front of the dormant Stargate, hovering just above the ramp.

..........

Sheppard dialed the address of the planet Gemmond on the Jumper's DHD. He could feel the connection failure even as he dialed due to the disturbance from the planet. He concentrated. He could feel the Jumper in his mind, wanting to co-operate eagerly.

'The Astria Porta is open on the other side. Is it imperative that we gain entrance to this specific planet, at this time?' John knew the inquiries that appeared in his mind were unmistakably Alteran, but he had no difficulty understanding what was being asked.

'Yes,' John thought confidently.

'Please enable the emergency override.' Another smaller, Ancient equivalent of a keypad appeared from the side of the DHD where John's palm was resting. He replaced his palm on the new sub-dialer, thinking 'Override.’

The new keyboard went back inside the DHD and John removed his hand to place it back on flight controls. The DHD started dialing the Gate address by itself and then dialed another sequence at the end. The Stargate in front of them came to life and the Chevrons started locking at double their usual speed. When the seventh and the final Chevron locked, the wormhole burst into life with a swoosh and stabilized with a splat. Then it waited patiently for the Jumper to fly through the gently rippling, blue surface.

The team chuckled, hooted, laughed, and whistled their praises.

John tapped his ear and activated the comms. "Sheppard to Control. Permission to visit Gemmond, Sir." He waited for the 'Go' order from the Colonel.

"Permission granted, Major." They all clearly heard the sour note in the Colonel’s voice, but they refrained from commenting, wanting to get going without any more delays on their first mission as a team.

#fanfiction series #stargate atlantis #steve mcgarrett #john sheppard #ao3fic #cross over #hawaii five 0 #stargate #fiction #my writing #writers on tumblr #bamf!John Sheppard

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aliciajamess · 4 years

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His Shallow Weakness (Tom Riddle x OC)

Summary: Tom Riddle was charming and kind, so encouraging and persuasive. He liked to delve deep into each person’s thoughts and emotions. That was his main goal. But what if there’s that one girl who had nothing different about her, nothing special, no depth? Nothing for him to know?

Pairing: Tom Riddle x OC

Genre: Horror, Romance

“How are you?” Tom greeted one of the fellow Gryffindor girls in Hogwarts who passed by him down the hallway. He gave them a blossoming smile that erupted butterflies in their stomachs, causing them to giggle and blush furiously.

“We’re good, Tom,” said the raven-haired girl, pointing next to who he could only assume was her best friend. “Which class are you headed to?”

“Potions, actually,” he responded. “Do you like potions?”

Both girls nodded intensely. “Oh! It’s our favourite!”

“That’s good,” he said, nodding his head with a clean smile.

“Are we keeping you? We apologize,” hurried the strawberry blonde girl beside her with a bow.

Tom shook his head and held his hand out to humble them. “Not at all, it’s absolutely alright. But we must get going then.”

The girls nodded and went skipping ahead, gushing about the perfectly angled jawline that belonged to Tom. Tom smiled at his friends, Tiernan and Avery, who nodded at him to continue walking to his class. Even though Tom’s potions class was all the way at the other end of school from the other two’s Transfiguration’s class, they still remained adamant to walk him there. They so badly wanted his approval.

“Why don’t you boys get going to your classes instead of mine?” he ushered softly, trying not to make it seem like they’re being forced. They had to want to earn his validation.

Avery and Tiernan shook their heads vigorously. “No need, Tom! We’ll walk you!” said Tiernan Lestrange.

“Very well,” shrugged Tom.

They proceeded to walk down the hallway, entering the potion’s tower that was taught by the head of their house - Horace Slughorn. He was Tom’s favourite teacher, mainly because he’d gotten most of Hogwarts’ secrets from him. And he continued to get on his professor’s good side for more information. That was what this was all about.

Until, he saw her again. His heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second. He paused from walking strangely and his other two friends gave each other a weird look. Tom immediately became anxious and frustrated like he’d never been. His mind scattered around trying to find a reason for his unusual infatuation for the tall and glamorous blonde.

What was it about her? No doubt, she was from a genetically-blessed, noble and notorious, well-respected pure-blood family who knew and understood Salazar Slytherin’s values. She was also the owner of one of the possibly best hair’s of the century. Her pale yet slightly bronzed complexion certainly brought out the basic blue in her eyes. And she was blessedly taller than the rest of the girls in Hogwarts, making it easy for her to turn heads around school.

But that was all there is to her. Physical appearance; beauty that Tom would never deny in a hundred years. Other than that, she was as bland as an apple. Her life was as simple as following her parents’ lessons and just plain having her prettiness be her main personality. There was nothing different about her but her face. And yet, Tom was inevitably drawn onto her. And it pissed him off to feel so superficial.

He prided himself in mastering how to psychoanalyze every single person he’d encountered. Professor Dumbledore was wary from the death of his sister, and blamed himself terribly because of it. Avery and Lestrange had major family neglect issues that only made them want to strive for someone more powerful than they were’s approval. And all Slughorn cared about was that Slytherins cared about wanting to be in the Slug Club - since that was the only way he was sure that people still respected him.

It wasn’t that hard to figure out people’s strengths and weaknesses and find his way around them. But this girl, this girl, had none. He didn’t know how to act around her. Everybody else had a story, but her. So what was it about her then?

“Tom!” she cheered pleasantly.

In return, Tom gave her a smile. “Juliet,” he muttered her name like it was addictive poison.

“Are you headed for potions?” she asked, her eyes glimmering so enticingly that it made him weak in the knees.

“Yes, of course, can’t be late to that,” he said with the tilt of his head. “What about you? Aren’t you going?”

“Yes,” said Juliet. “I was just on the look for you since it was written on the board that we’re partners.”

God forbid that I would sleep restfully tonight, Tom thought miserably, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get her out of his head later that night, once again.

“Well, here I am,” he said. He turned to his two mates and nodded at them to go to their respective classes and leave him with Juliet.

He walked a little bit to the front and waited for Juliet to turn to the same direction as him, walking side by side to the potions classroom.

“You’re a bit late today, you’re usually very early,” she pointed out.

And Tom was happy, to say the least. Juliet noticed what time he would go into class. Juliet notices him.

“Right. I got caught up talking to Reeva and Eloise on the way.”

She nodded, evidently not that interested in what he was going to say. Like she only asked to start a conversation.

“So did the professor start on the instructions?” asked Tom.

“Not yet. He really wanted to wait for you,” she giggled.

Tom chuckled himself. He loved being Slughorn’s personal favourite. “Well, then it must be a good project.”

They entered the classroom and took a seat on the very front row where Slughorn had seated both of them, being his favourites. Slughorn shed a blind eye to Tom’s tardiness and then started his class.

“Today, we’re going to be making Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion. Just like we talked about yesterday, its purpose is to tame unruly hair to your wishes. Since I notice that there aren’t any gingers in this class, all of you shall proceed with the making. You will test it out on your own hair later in your own time, report a lab with a conclusion, and it is all due tomorrow. Get along now.”

Tom couldn’t help but fantasize of how he would take two drops of the potion, rub it in between his fingers and palms before running it through Juliet’s golden locks. It looked so smooth and carefree, he could barely resist the urge to just graze his fingers through it purposely accidentally.

But he remained where he sat. He waited for her to make the first move and talk about the project with him. Just to see if she was really interested in initiating a little something with him. So he picked up the Asian Dragon hair that lay on their shared table and looked at her patiently.

“So do you know how to do this?” she asked innocently. “I don’t think I remembered the instructions from yesterday.”

And then he remembered that Juliet wasn’t the brightest bulb around here. She gets Acceptable and Poor, and even at times, Dreadful, on most of her subjects. Don’t ask Tom how he knew this, just know that Juliet has never gotten anything more than Acceptable in any of her subjects. It was one of the things that revolted Tom about Juliet; she didn’t care.

He was normally more intrigued by people who showed interests in their studies and passions. Juliet, however, had none. It seemed that she completely depended on her family name - the Voilette’s - to help her to exceed. Or maybe even her looks that would awe the professors. Though none of the things she does would clearly imply that. She was a mystery box that really held nothing inside. How was that even possible.

Tom stiffened his jaw but still forced himself to smile politely. “Yes, I do. I’ll help you, don’t fret. Just add the hairs on the pot like so.”

Juliet watched blankly as Tom added on ingredients and stirred the pot thoroughly. She was neither bored nor excited. After a few minutes of the mixture blending in, Tom stopped stirring and studied the potion.

“Could you pass me the flask?” he asked.

“Sure,” she mumbled, grabbing one out of the three flasks in front of her and handed it to Tom’s awaiting hands. “Is it done?”

“Yes. Would you like for the experiment to be done on you?” He inwardly was wishing for Merlin to make Juliet agree, just so Tom could have the permission to feel her hair and possibly grab one strand and make a love potion out of it.

She didn’t think anything of it and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Tom smiled cheekily. “Perfect. We’ll meet after school at the library and test it out then, yes?”

She hummed in approval as she leaned on the table and tried to take a whiff of the green liquid. And Tom watched her do so, he almost didn’t care that he literally looked creepy. Not that Juliet would’ve noticed. And everybody else was too absorbed in their own tasks to notice.

“Is that peppermint?” she asked him genuinely.

Tom furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I-It’s Dragon hair...”

After class, Juliet packed up and merely waved at him goodbye, but not without flashing him her usual I’m-Too-Good-Not-To-Show-Off-My-Smile smile. Tom wondered if he was inching closer into psychoanalyzing her by just her smile.

But professor Slughorn’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Riddle,” he called.

Tom looked and moved over to his professor diligently. “Yes, professor?”

“I’ve noticed that you were the only who was doing the work in the project. Is there any problem in there?” he asked.

Tom shook his head. “Not at all. But professor, if I might ask, would you tell me what made you choose.. Juliet Voilette to be the first student in the Slug Club?”

Slughorn was evidently astonished by his question and placed a hand on his beer gut as he laughed foolishly. “My dear boy, Juliet was the reason I had made the club in the first place.”

“What does that mean?” asked Tom.

Slughorn stumbled over his words hesitantly. “Well, I can’t particularly put a finger on that. I mean, Jules has always been sort of a question mark in the sense that she’s not... the most hard-working student — ”

Tom raised his eyebrows at his superior suggestively.

Slughorn nodded and rolled his eyes. “Oh, be it. Jules doesn’t work hard at all. Truth is, I question myself daily why on earth she was sorted under Slytherin. But the reason I made Slug Club was because I thought that if she was surrounded by people who were ambitious, she would then be influenced by them.”

Slughorn sighed and took a seat behind his desk. “But obviously, she’s not trying one bit. She comes and takes a seat, drink tea and eats as if she owned the place. But there is something about Jules that I have noticed...”

Tom took note of how Slughorn had created Juliet her own nickname; Jules. It was cute and whatnot, but he’d originally had no idea they were that close.

“She works half as hard as everybody else, and yet, she would end up getting the same results, if not better. Of course, this isn’t grades-wise. Merlin knows,” he groaned as he delved his hand into one the drawers in his desk and pulled out a handful of magazines.

“She had been voted Witch Weekly’s top Most Beautiful Witch of 1943 last year. And the year before that, she’d won the Most Outstanding Walk Award. Once, she was even on The Quibbler under the conspiracy theory of using a self-beauty spell on herself in an attempt to become more beautiful. She was on the Daily Prophet in 1939 simply for buying a red dress at Madame Malkin, the following day, countless of witches wore the exact same dress. Obviously, I couldn’t let her A-list status go to waste.”

Slughorn seemed disappointed with himself for only caring about his student’s reputation by the way he slapped his palms onto his forehead tiredly. But Tom understood how he felt. Completely.

“Thank you for telling me that, professor,” said Tom with a courteous bow. “I’ll be on my way now.”

Slughorn only nodded at his most prized student and dwelled in his own thoughts precariously. Tom felt weak and disheartened as he came to a realization that he and Slughorn were facing the same issues regarding Juliet. She was a tough yet empty shell to crack. There was no point. And yet, it only made Tom want to try harder.

He barely listened to any of his classes, his mind clouded with the things that could happen later in the library where they would meet. He was going to take advantage of that time and get her to open up, just to give him some peace of mind. Even if it was as small as knowing the things that frustrate her, it would do.

He shouldn’t be liking her at all - or would he even want to call it liking? It seemed like such a muggle emotion. Not even just muggle, it’s a common feeling that everybody gets from time to time. Was he now just like everybody else?

As soon as his last class had ended, he stomped toward the library heavier than ever. But on the outside, he kept his chivalry and polite practices on for show. That was the only thing he felt he could control for now. He held the library door open for one of the girls behind him and stepped aside for them to enter. He waited right on the entrance, looking over the window occasionally in search for a particular pretty blonde.

He tapped his foot impatiently. Where was she? She was about... He checked the pocket watch from the insides of his robe and grunted. 57 seconds late.

The librarian looked over at his hunched back and waited for his word that he was doing just fine. He nodded at her reassuringly and painfully smiled at her. Now people were noticing that he was obviously detered. Only Juliet’s appearance could save that now. Oh, how pathetic he felt. Needing somebody else to make him sane?

“Tom!” Juliet’s voice from outside of the library door greeted happily. Tom resisted the urge to pull her in and just slap her for causing a nuisance in himself. He opened the door for her, knowing she would be waiting for it. “Hey, so where are we doing the thing?”

The thing? He thought irritably. That thing happens to be the thing that determines my grades and achievements.

“Probably somewhere private and quiet,” he directed.

He held his hands to his right signalling her to go first and she did. He watched her walk, her hair dangling in layers, enhancing her soft blow-out. It had a natural highlight of darker and lighter shades of caramel and sunflower blonde. He was so mesmerized by it that he felt this tingling feeling in himself that wanted to braid her hair like a poet would say.

She led him to some of the dimmer parts of the library. It was a small corner surrounded by shelves and only a small and round table in there. Completely isolated from the rest of crowd. He felt much more comfortable in here, much more confident.

Juliet set a single book down on the table and took a seat, Tom did the same and sat across from her. He had her all to himself now. And so he stared at her sharply, intensely, trying to get a look of her light blue eyes and see through them, read the details in them.

Juliet blinked a few times when she noticed this. “Uhm, are we gonna start?” she asked.

Tom fixed his composure and cleared his throat. “Yes. Do you happen to have a hairbrush?”

Juliet laughed lightly. “It’s, like, all I carry around me all the time!”

She pulled out a shiny pink hairbrush that somehow held an expensive aura to it and held it over to him, he gladly took it. She then positioned her chair around and dangled her hair over the back of it, swaying it swiftly at Tom’s face. His head followed the movements of her hair hypnotically.

He couldn’t help it. He just had to take some time to simply look at her hair, study the details, take a mental picture and force it into his dreams later than night. It was beautiful.

“Tom?” she interrupted his thoughts. “Are we starting?”

By the sound of her voice, she was starting to feel uncomfortable. She must be able to feel his stare without even seeing it. So he took the cap off of the flask and dropped a few droplets of the potion on his left hand. He places the flask down on the table and rubbed his hands together, and then he fulfilled his dreams.

He touched her hair. He ran his fingers through her tresses and never wanted to leave them again. It brought him immense pleasure just to touch them, play with them, twirl them around his fingers, fix the knots, flick them. A slight smile formed on his face, he felt that he was in a power position right now. And Juliet had no idea that she was being so submissive like he wanted her to be.

Minutes and minutes had passed. He still hadn’t gotten enough of it. That was until a sigh escape from Juliet’s lips followed by her tapping her slim and dainty fingers over her exposed lap due to her short skirt that she’d overgrown throughout the years.

What a whore, said Tom at the back of his head. He was convinced that she knew exactly what she was doing.

She clicked her black stilettos together and fidgeted around. She was silently telling him to lay off of her hair and Tom unwillingly obeyed her wishes.

“Alright then, that’s it,” he announced. And Juliet let out a short gasp, acting like she didn’t see that one coming.

Her hair was different now. Instead of the curled blow-out it was in before, it was sleek straight, giving her a more sophisticated and posh look instead of the warm sunshine look she usually had. He didn’t know if he liked this look better on her. But he certainly was not complaining.

“Well it worked!” she cheered playfully.

“That it did. So let’s work on the report now,” he suggested, taking a pen and paper out as she did the same thing.

Tom scribbled everything down on his paper speedily, like drawing the back of his hand. He knew everything he had to say to get an Oustanding mark. Time went by prety fast for him on that note. However, he noticed that Juliet barely had anything written down - that was actually related to their potions assignment. She mostly just doodled different types of heels on the edges of the paper, probably thinking that Tom was going to carry her in this partner work.

Tom had no problem with that. If she wasn’t working on their assignment, then she could work on giving him some answers to his own questions.

“So,” he began. “Have your parents written to you at all this year?”

This was his attempt of getting some background information about her parents. Maybe know if their were neglectful which resulted in her superficially attention-seeking and careless ways. Or if they were too strict, resulting in her complexity - or lack thereof.

“Yeah,” she nodded positively.

“Did you write back?”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“Are you spending the holidays with them then?”

“I think. I don’t know yet. ‘Haven’t really given that some thought.”

“Would there be any reason that you wouldn’t want to spend the holidays with your own parents?”

Fuck, Tom thought. That was too forward.

Juliet looked at him awkwardly, caught off-guard by his question. “I-I don’t really know?”

But Tom proceeded with pushing these questions on her. He needed something. Anything.

“Did they ever do anything that affected your life gravely?”

Juliet’s eyes blinked before slowly rolling down to her paper, which she was now starting to scramble up like garbage. “Uhm, no? I hope not? But I-I think I’m gonna go.”

She grabbed her book and stood up to walk away. But Tom shot up instinctively. He grabbed her hand and twirled her around, lightly yet powerfully pushing her onto the bookshelves. He placed both of his hands beside her head and looked into her eyes with animosity.

Juliet was terrified.

“T-Tom? What are you doing?”

“Tell me something,” he muttered. “Anything. What are you thinking?”

Juliet’s breathing was unsteady as she felt trapped and forced to speak up. His stare made her feel so small. “I-I’m thinking.. why are you doing this?”

“It’s not enough.” Tom shook his head.

“What isn’t?” she asked.

But he ignored her and kept mumbling inaudibly. “It’s not enough... What are your greatest fears?”

She thought long and hard on this. She was never in the position to ever have to answer a question such as this. But ask her her favourite shade of lipstick and she’d spill in a heartbeat.

“I-I don’t really — ”

“ — know. Of course. What do you know? You have no idea what the value of Pi is, 67 squared, 147 cubed, what 1.77245 means. What do you know?” he repeated, only frustrating himself even more.

“Why are you asking me this?” she asked.

“Why don’t you try at school? Your grades are Acceptable at best. Your IQ would most likely be a solid 100. Do you think that you’re going to get special treatment for being Juliet Voilette? Is this a superiority complex?”

His hands remained solid on either side of her, he was now closing in the space between their heads. He felt the need to get even closer to her. Physically, emotionally and mentally. He was all about Juliet now.

Juliet didn’t know if she should even answer this. She didn’t know if he wanted a genuine answer or if he just wanted to tell her his questions and stare at her face.

“I-I can’t say...” she cautiously said.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not quite sure myself,” she answered.

“What are you sure of?” he asked.

“That I’m scared right now.”

“Why’s that?” He narrowed his eyes.

“You’re scaring me.”

“Am I really?”

“You’re being different. You’re not usually like this. And I’m afraid. That’s what I know.”

“Really? What am I usually like?”

“Nice. Smart. Friendly. Grounded.”

“And now?”

“Creepy. Dark. Pushy.”

He smirked at her answers. “All I’m gathering from this is that you have zero emotional depth. Creepy, dark and pushy? Can you be more like every other girl?” he scoffed.

“I never pretended to be different.”

Bingo.

That was what was different about her. She never denied being who she was. She had the personality of a wall, and she knew it, and fully accepted it. Whereas other girls would’ve tried to force the idea that they were unique and different. Juliet was perfectly comfortable being the way she was.

But there was one thing.

“You’re a Voilette,” he pointed out. “Rich, famous. You were in Witch Weekly countless of times. Daily Prophet, too. Do you think that you’re better than everyone else because of that?”

He begged to know. He was just one step closer into cracking her case, he felt.

“I didn’t do anything to be in there. It just happened.”

True. Her achievements were nothing short of coincidence. Meanwhile, Tom worked for every single thing he has today - his intelligence, his followers, and his reputation. If anything, Juliet was only thriving off of pure luck. It was utterly pathetic. But she never said she didn’t do exactly just that. And he felt even more attracted toward her because of it.

“Does that do it for you?” she asked.

“Perfectly,” he responded, inching his hands off of the shelves slowly.

“Why did you have to ask?”

Tom rolled his eyes and tilted his head away from her, ashamed to even be asked the question. He brought his hands in and crossed them over her chest. “Nothing,” he murmured.

Juliet raised an eyebrow. “No, tell me,” she said.

“It’s nothing, okay?” he snapped, hoping it would get her off his case. He wasn’t used to talking so rudely to anyone, always needing to put up a front whenever he wasn’t alone.

But Juliet didn’t care. A teasing smile formed on her face. “Oh my gosh..” she gasped unbelievably.

Tom looked at her. “What?”

“You like me!” she loudly said.

“No I don’t! Trust me. I’m very repelled by the idea of you. In fact, thinking of you starts this weird feeling in my stomach,” he spat.

Her smile grew bigger into a Cheshire Cat grin. “Butterflies?? You get butterflies from thinking of me?”

Tom’s grimace turned into a look of realization. “Of course not,” he stubbornly denied.

“Sure, sure.” Juliet threw her hands up as if to give up. She began making her way out of their corner. “I’ll see you tomorrow at potions class, lover.”

Tom knew she was only saying that to tease him, but he liked that word coming out of her mouth. Describing him as her lover. Now that was something he could get used to.

Once Juliet was out of sight and had exited the library, Tom’s face softened and he chuckled to himself as he began packing his stuff up. Whatever it was that was going on between him and Juliet, he had a good feeling about it. He felt content. Approved. Validated. Permitted. He liked the feeling of it.

“No wonder Avery and Lestrange always kiss arse,” he hummed to himself.

#harry potter #pottermore #tom riddle #voldemort #tom riddle fanfiction #draco malfoy #voldemort fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #x reader #tom riddle angst #tom riddle imagine

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purplerose244 · 4 years

Text

Thoughts journal for season 13!! 😎😎 (2/4)

Here we go with another four episodes! I'm enjoying myself A LOT and I do hope we will continue this way! I can't wait to know more about Rock Mom and who really is the Skull Sorcerer and ENOUGH LET'S GO TO THE EPISODES!!! 💕💕

Here we go!!

QUEEN OF THE MUNCE

For this one I already saw the Nya's knight suit already... and she was gorgeous... I mean she always is but COME ON 💙💙💙

These munce are too much 😂 They are kind of adorable in their stupidity really

Jay going full "we're never going to get out Imma get overly pessimistic because YES" is always a familiar sight, almost as him spazzing out during a difficult situation... that could still happen 🤷‍♀️

Good thing Nya gets the brain cell most of the time 👌

Of course while I'm waiting for the third part of Tales of Arcadia, something so similar to the Trollmarket comes my way 😂 Very nice thought, a bit dark. I hope it doesn't get in the way of seeing the good fighting scenes

Okay but THIS

IS PLAIN CURSED, PLAIN BALD HEADS😱😱😱 Well I'm guessing Tommy doesn't have excuses anymore to become a LEGO character 😂

Well Murt, that was one breathtaking story, you should be a storyteller 👍

Ah, there we go, with the Jay and Nya and queen situation 😒 It's not that bad really, considering I thought it was going to be just a weak way to include Jay with just another triangle. It didn't last long so that's kinda fine, but it is annoying that Nya is pushed away. But overall better than I expected

Also it is nice the reminder that she is his yang 💙❤💙❤

And they are still adorable 😂😂 I like that you can tell immediately here who's the strong one of the couple 😎😎

So there is a drawing of the Millie Gillie guy/gal on that wall, huh... was I in the wrong about that being Cole's mom? I thought they said she, but English is not my first language so I could be wrong 🤷‍♀️

Ninja Jay could be the new Kai Ninjago 😂

Aww, that part with the lightning and the crystals was so pretty 🤩🤩

And there we go with the confrontation 😛 I did snorted seeing Jay kinda offended at Nya not wanting to fight for him, but she is still super adorable saying that they belong 💕💕 Also Lloyd just being there trying to calm everyone down, le poor baby 😂😂

Yep, the fire instinct kicking in, Nya is the daughter of Ray after all 🤷‍♀️

AND SHE LOOKS ABSOLUTELY GLORIOUS WITH THE ARMOR 🤩🤩

Oh, apparently the queen of munce can do spin dash 😱

Woooo, that preparation for the spinjitzu was so cool 🤩 And of course she kicked the HECK out of her, THAT'S MY GIRL!!!

And now she's the queen, great, more problems to come 😅 We'll see how this plays out, and I am kinda curious to see queen Nya at work ☺

Not my favorite episode, but still enjoyable, let's keep getting better and better!

So... WHERE IS MY FLAME BABE?!? ❤

TRIAL BY MINO

THERE HE IS 😍😍😍

I don't know if it's because it's a very obvious but convenient thing to do or I just love Kai THAT much, but I love when there's dark and he just lights up his hand. Idk, I just think it's neat 🙂

There're the Geckos! They are cute too 💜 Also chanting about the Millie Gillie guy, I'm still convinced that's just Cole's mom! Also I'm kinda guessing the Skull Sorcerer is the king of Shintaro. He is the most suspicious for now, we'll see how it goes 🤷‍♀️

Poor Kai got the awful thing in his mouth... AND HAIR!!! Look out sweetie, your beautiful chocolaty hair!! 😱

OMG ZANE CALLING OUT KAI ABOUT HIS BLABBERING AS HE DOESN'T HAS A SKELETON 😂😂 I laughed too much at it, I'm sorry Tin Can 😅

Again

Really like the crystal vibe 😍 This one is blue, the other was green, is there a reason?

I missed Kai and Zane together, I missed anyone with Zane in general! It's always a nice contrast and always amusing, especially if hotheadTM is involved 💕

So they throw rocks to show approval, I'm loving this society for some reasons 😂

Okay, vengestone is literally everywhere, there is no way all this stuff was not on purpose. It would make sense that a place studied to weaken an elemental master was meant for something more. Wooooo, ROCK MOM ROCK MOM 🖤🖤🖤

Awwww, I don't know why but them acknowledging the elemental masters is super satisfying 💜

Oh so Kai is not a king, he's a chancellor... and he didn't want to 😂😂 Vincent definitely had fun voicing this episode 👌

Okay, so there are three explorers involved? I'm guessing the muscular one in the trailer was one of them. I wonder what will be their part in the story 🤔

Poor Kai, his encouragement speeches used to be the key of convincing, here it's harder. Let's see how they will deal with this... also how Kai will react with queen Nya of the munce 😂

Pff, Zane throwing the rock of encouragement, that was so adorable 🤍

I really missed these two ❤🤍❤🤍

THE SKULL SORCERER

Seriously, even talking to herself and thinking about the worst situations like Bluebell? If Cole and Vania do end up together, I'll still hold onto the fact that Rocky is into the loquatious type 😂😂

Okay, a sweet princess' paranoia towards a little white cute dragon named Chompy?

One of the cutest thing ever seen 😍 Also I am a firm believer that everything improves if you put a dragon into it, another reason why I love Ninjago so much 🤍🤍🤍

Pff, seeing Vania talking about call then the cut on the black ninja makes me think about that one vine with the guy hanging with his phone saying "Yeah I'm okay mom, bye (phone down)... I AM NOT OKAY!!" 😂

SOLO MOMENT WITH COLE!!! Freaking yes, and it looks like the little tic of talking to himself when stressed from March of the Oni got stuck 🙃🙃

Lava punches back! Big bad bats!! Spiders!!... wait- AAAHHH 😱

Okay, forgive my skepticism when I doubt that a simple spider web could stop one of the strongest ninja of the team. We needed Vania to the rescue, alright, still sounds a little easy but eh watcha gonna do 🤷‍♀️

SHE HAS HER HAIR DOWN!!! SHE LOOKS STUNNING!!! Golden hair girl 💛💛

And Chompy is a big good boy 🤩

CALLED IT!!! CALLED IT FOR THE KING!!!... I mean it was kinda obvious 😅 Still, happy I thought about it before it actually happened. Although it's curious that the reveal happens now, halfway there, unlike in Prime Empire where it took almost all the season to build up the reveal. What's left for the finale?... ROCK MOM?!?!

There's a customer for all that vengestone? That... actually makes a lot of sense. Anyone who is against the ninja would want it really, and that only considering past villains. And if we think about possible elemental masters coming back, uuuhhh, I like where this is going!!

YOU CANNOT HURT A BABY DRAGON IN THIS SHOW AND NOT PAY I HOPE YOU GET THE WORST DEATH/DEFEAT OF ALL THE FRANCHISE 👿👿👿

Wait, so they don't naturally have wings? Oh, that's why she didn't have them in the trailer, I see 🤔

This is probably the only moment when I think they rushed a bit. Not too much, I iust feel like we haven't seen enough of Vania and her father to truly feel that decision moment as fundamental. Still cool, still intense, but kinda light. Anyway GO PRINCESS GO!!! 💕💕

THE REAL FALL

Oh Garmadon... that title... *flashbacks The Fall while realizing this is indeed Cole's season* NOT AGAIN 😱😱😱

I mean they are already falling so... uh, let's see how it goes

HE EVEN FRAMED CHOMPY HE MUST DIE SO HARD 😡👿😡👿

Okay the fall here is actually kind of hilarious 😂 Or is it because I love that Kirby gets to be on the center of the attention and he is giving his all? Idk, I love all the voice actors of the show really 🤷‍♀️

Hey, you people watching this

Am I the only one getting emotional here?? 😢 ... just me, huh 😅 I mean come on, it's Cole and Wu! The first leader and the sensei! The used to be dad and his son Cole Jr.! I headcanon that Cole was the first to arrive at the monastery and this feels like the old times... EMOTIONAL PEOPLE

Lol, sensei taking the time to compliment Vania about her behavior, he's gonna adopt her when this is over 😂

I mean, you kinda faced worst yes, you fell into the Underworld on dragons you used to be afraid of, you fell from a ship with an anchor, you fell into a junk compactor that almost squashed you against your rival now best friend, you fell from SPACE towards THE EARTH, you fell from a ladder... THE LADDER COLE 😱😱😱 (this fangirl will never recover from that)

Aaaand a giant web. Of course. Classic Ninjago lack of luck right there 👈👈

Clutch Powers still lives 😂

Okay, seriously? She freaks out when things gets out of hand and talks about staying calm by making vocal exercises! Freaking, it might be me trying to find an excuse to think about Bruise, but they are making it a little too easy for me 🖤💙🖤💙

I am kinda loving her being so genuine, Idk, I really like Vania. She does her best 👍

Falling > Dying, life lessons by your master of Earth 😎 Wu sounds so done, they can never go anywhere without something crazy like this happening 🤣

Why is this so funny, the sequel of The Fall shouldn't be 😂 Meh, not complaining

That was one very mad Lapras

YES THANK YOU SENSEI!!! Finally he acknowledged it, Cole is literally surrounded by his element, OF COURSE he is crazy strong in here. I needed this scene, heck yeah, I love elemental powers 🖤

Oh they must be the explorers... Merlin, Assassin's Creed and Conan the Barbarian 😅 So we hit rock bottom, literally apparently, and one of the spider's name is Adam... OKAY

So the real fall was in fact Cole falling asleep for the shock 😂 Lol if Cole and Vania really don't end up together, I can joke and say that in this season Cole has never fell harder 😉😉

This was very amusing, I liked this episode, I would rewatch it only for the comments 😂 I'm curious to see what else will happen, especially with these three now involved! Who are they?

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love-sapphirerose · 3 years

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Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon Episode 22

https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/review/yashahime-princess-half-demon/episode-22/.170344

I'm going to get this out of the way now, just so I can switch things up and not start things off on such a negative foot: “The Stolen Seal” isn't a terrible episode of Yashahime! Relatively speaking, at least; lord knows there are a lot of bones I have to pick, but they're the kinds of problems we've come to expect from the whole of Yashahime by now, and while they usually say that familiarity breeds contempt, in this show's case I'm perfectly happy to mix my metaphors and go with the devil I know. At the very least, “The Stolen Seal” doesn't end on a character-destroying gag like last week did, and it's not infuriatingly incompetent like, well, a lot of prior episodes have been. Here's your gold star, Yashahime.

We actually begin with another flashback, this time to a previous arrival of that one evil comet, which we see being destroyed by Kirinmaru, Zero, and — hold for surprised gasp — Grampyasha himself, the Great Dog Demon! The reveal that Kirinmaru and Zero used to be besties with GDD is something that feels like it should be shocking, or at least emotional, but Yashahime has bungled its pacing and narrative so badly that the best it could muster from me was a slightly cocked eyebrow and a mild snort. I'm sure the show wants us to make a big to-do out of the mystery of what happened between these three to lead them to…whatever it is that Kirinmaru and Zero are trying to do, now, but this is the first time that Kirinmaru and Zero have even *kind of* felt like characters with personalities and goals. Even with Zero and Kirinmaru vaguely gesticulating about the Spooky Plans™ for the girls for half of the episode, I'm still not entirely sure of what they want to accomplish now, so Yashahime sure as hell hasn't shored up enough vested interest to get me concerned about the villains' pasts.

Speaking of the Spooky Plans™, yes, that is what this week's episode is all about. For some reason that Yashahime hasn't bothered to tell us yet, Zero and Kirinmaru actually want to unlock Towa and Setsuna's sealed-away demon powers, and Zero goes about this scheme using those creepy demon powers that I guess she didn't seal away, after all. Do the treacherous siblings simply want to see what the twins are capable of at full strength, before killing them? Or does Kirinmaru have greater use for Towa and Setsuna? Could it be that he might even have their best interests in mind? Probably not, but we're getting to the point where the obnoxiously dragged out “mysteries” of the story are just frustrating and pointless, so we've got to fill in the blanks with something to work with.

In any case, Zero first pays a visit to Miroku in order to figure out how to unseal Setsuna's power, and then she takes her newfound knowledge to the sisters themselves. Zero manages to easily brainwash Towa into helping her, thanks to Towa chucking away her Silver Pearl last week like a damned nincompoop. Moroha, being the only sweet and good character in this entire series, does her best to help, but to no avail: Zero rips away Setsuna's seal, transforming the young half-demon into the venomous, rage-filled beast that we've seen consume her before. Oh, and then she grows big purple butterfly wings and flies away to wreak more havoc elsewhere.

Is the implication that Setsuna is the dream butterfly? Or is Zero the Dream Butterfly, and the wings are on her account? Or is this some kind of extended Naraku/OG InuYasha reference that is just (heh heh) flying over my head? Either way, I have to be honest: It looks goofy as all get out. And not in a charming, “This is a fairy tale meant for kids!” way, oh no — it's plain corny, is what it is. Most of the action this week is pretty lame, as sloppily and poorly storyboarded as it is, but Magical Butterfly Setsuna is perhaps a bridge too far, especially since we don't have enough context to know why she would just randomly sprout butterfly wings all of a sudden. And what does all of Setsuna's rage and thrashing about amount to in the end? A blink-and-you'll-miss-it appearance from Sesshomaru, who, true to form as ever, can only muster mild disgust for his daughter's inability to perfectly master her demon powers entirely on her own, years after being completely abandoned by the only parent who could have maybe given her some real pointers. Dad of the Year material, he is most certainly not.

Still, I meant it when I said this was a step up from previous episodes. I liked Miroku's daughter, Kin'u, who takes a solid minute to dunk on her dad for getting gooped up in Zero's spiderwebs before helping him out. I liked that Moroha got more to do this week than just stand around, waiting for an opportunity to sneak in one of her zingers. (Even if the end result is still, you know, Moroha getting her ass beat. Again.) Hell, I even liked the incredibly stupid cliffhanger at the end of the episode, where we cut back to the present day for the first time in almost five months, to see Towa's teacher, Osamu Kirin, remarking on the reappearance of that gosh-danged evil demon comet. Get it? “Osamu Kirin”? With the floofy hair and oversized Harry Potter specs covering up his face?? Man, I almost feel bad for Yashahime at this point because of moments like these, where it feels like the show genuinely believes it is telling an interesting story worth giving a damn about. It isn't. At all. If the show can just maintain a few episode's worth of this baseline level of near functional quality, though, I might just be able to humor it long enough to get to the finish line.

• The bar is so low at this point that I nearly gave “The Stolen Seal” a 3/5, just for how much it didn't actively annoy or insult me. Then we got to the scene where Towa noted that hugging Riku sure did make her feel different from when “Papa Sota” hugs her. This is, categorically, the single worst line that the show has ever had the gall to throw at us, and Yashahime is lucky that I didn't throw another Adam Sandler movie GIF at the scoreboard. You're on thin ice, Yashahime! Keep the girls' nascent horniness to your damn self, please and thank you.

• So, Zero and Grampyasha were most definitely getting their shag on, right? The internet tells me that Sesshomaru's mother has already made her appearance in the series, so my initial theory that she was going to be the twins' grandmother doesn't seem like it makes any sense. But still, she's out here calling GDD her “lord” and giving him the “slam my salmon” look throughout the whole episode. That explains why she gave up her demon powers in a fit of grief — even if, again, it seems like she definitely still has all of her demon powers — though I still don't get why she was so keen on killing GDD when he was deathly ill, last week.

• Totosai also pops up to foreshadow the “training with the Blood Blade” — I don't know what a Blood Blade is, but I was feeling like Steve Rogers when the old blacksmith popped up:

#anti yashahime #anti hanyo no yashahime #anti towa #anti sunrise #kirinmaru #toga

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mythicamagic · 5 years

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Mirror image: Yui Komori oneshot

Another writing commission for @s-e-kwan

Yui’s personality drastically changes, to the point that Ruki takes it upon himself to find out the reason. Even if it means confining her to a darker cage. NOT a Cordelia fic. Mild RukiYui vibes.

Rated T for the usual darker themes in DL such as abuse.

The bathroom had become a welcome reprieve, her own personal sanctuary from the Mukamis. Were she still in the Sakamaki mansion, Shuu would probably be lounging in the bath, but right then Yui leaned against the sink alone, sighing.

She inspected the bite marks on her skin, wincing tiredly.

Lately she’d been stretched a little too thin. Every inch of clothing scraped over the raised bumps of past marks. There were too many, to the point that her body didn’t even feel like it was hers anymore.

Yui swayed on her feel, quickly gripping the sink tighter. Tears strung her lashes. “I’m so tired.”

Her reflection stared back with surprisingly hard, apathetic eyes, “No, not tired. Pathetic.”

“But what can I do?”

The mirror Yui’s lips curved up into a sneer, tilting her chin up to gaze down at her. “Anything is better than nothing, worm. Oh no, wait. You’re Livestock, aren’t you? A Sow, a bitch, a slut. That’s exactly what you are if you’re just going to roll over and take it like a good girl.”

“B-but I’m powerless against them. And everything…hurts, I don’t want any more pain that would come from fighting. I’d rather…” she trembled, the tears finally escaping to roll hotly down her ashen cheeks. “I’d rather just stop existing.”

“…That can be arranged.”

------

It started out with minor things. Small snips in her voice, a slight sharpness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

But gradually it worsened, or perhaps she’d been holding back.

“She bit me! All I was doing was taking some blood and she bit me! What the hell is wrong with her lately?” Kou snapped, gripping Yui tightly by the hair while turning to glare at Ruki, waiting for his input.

The elder Mukami looked on levelly. “Normally I’d encourage punishment, Kou. But the Livestock is looking frail. Allow her time to re-cooperate and then act.”

Kou tsked and flung the girl down to land hard on the floor, before leaving. Ruki observed her carefully, blinking slowly when her body shook with quiet laughter.

-------

“I’M GONNA KILL HER!” A voice thundered through the mansion.

Glancing up from his book, Ruki watched as Yuma stormed in, looking around the room frantically.

“Problem?”

“Yeah there’s a fucking problem, she DESTROYED my garden!”

Blue-grey eyes widened marginally. The book closed with a sharp snap as he stood. “I’ll take care of it. You’ll kill her as you are now. Call Azusa to help you salvage anything.”

“Tch, I saw him not too long ago. She scratched him up pretty good with his knife. Least he was happy about that…”

Ruki’s eyes darkened.

Yuma didn’t have time to protest as he disappeared, filtering through the scents in the air and finding her fairly easily in Kou’s room. The idol happened to be out working. When he finally appeared, Ruki stopped, taking her in.

She was hunched forward before the vanity mirror, applying a sultry red to her lips. Her dark clothes were unsubtle, exposing a ridiculous amount of skin. He scented blood and pinpointed it on her ear, noting she’d forced an earring in through the skin.

“Whatever possessed you to attempt this cheap shot at rebellion, Livestock, it ends now.”

Yui shifted, blonde hair sliding back as she glanced at him coyly over her shoulder.

Ice briefly chilled his spine. “…Cordelia?” He quietly guessed.

She giggled airily, eyes dulled. “No. She died a long while ago, when the Sakamaki’s still had me.”

“Then there is no reason to be acting out so childishly. As your Master, it falls to me to punish you now-“

“You are not my Master.”

The low, bitter words from that voice, that mouth, made something snap. Ruki seized her chin in his hand, grabbing a wipe and pressing it hard to her lips, swiping the rouge roughly. It smudged the colour over her face, making it resemble dried blood.

He then materialised them into a deep, dark space.

“W-where are we?”

“A place where Livestock go to be rehabilitated.”

-----

A few weeks in solitary confinement changed nothing. Though he’d tucked her away in a room beneath the house, more specifically in the dungeons, she stared back at him with those dulled, mocking eyes. Depriving her of food and water only weakened her, so he eased up on such extremes.

Her words were no less biting.

“You’re disgusting.”

Bite!

“I hate you!”

Bite!

“You enjoy this, don’t you? You like hurting me just so you can feel…gn, in control.”

Pause.

Ruki’s lips hovered over her skin, fresh bite marks blooming. No discipline softened her to complacency either.

“What was that?” He asked lowly, tugging her up to look at him. Sitting on her plain, sad little bed, the two observed each other. As her sole provider, he’d expected Yui to start softening for him.

“Heh,” she shivered, skin pale. “You’re a coward. You place yourself as ‘Master’ just so you can forget about-“

Steel fingers wrapped around her throat. “Say one more word and I will end your pathetic existence, Eve,” silken tones hissed, fire and brimstone churning the dead sea in his veins, igniting a blood lust like no other-

Rose-pink eyes brightened marginally, and Ruki stopped.

His mind clicked, and slowly, carefully, that tight grip slackened, releasing her.

“What are you doing?” She snapped, voice straining a little. “Y-you’re a coward! Like I was saying, you used to be Livestock too! You still are!”

He did not respond, only moved her off his legs, standing.

“Now I understand.”

Yui glared, hugging her arms. “Understand what?”

Ruki did not answer, disappearing from sight and leaving her entirely alone.

----

Raising a hand to shield her eyes, Yui winced at the brightness of the sun. With treacle immediacy, she adjusted, blinking and glancing around.

Ruki had taken her out of her cage, only to get in a car and drive. They’d been on the road for hours, to the point that she’d nodded off, arms curled loosely around her thin body. Eventually she’d been roused to wake, now standing before an old, worn down church.

She recognised it immediately, jolting.

This was the place where she’d been raised.

This was home.

Or at least it had been. In just two years it seemed to have fallen into disrepair. Weeds overrun the front garden, and ivy now burst through shattered windows. Even the walls looked tinged grey, dulled.

“It was abandoned shortly after you left,” Ruki uttered, hands in pockets.

“…What happened?”

“The Vampire King made good on his word. In exchange for you, the nuns here received whatever they wanted.

“I don’t believe y-“

“But they ultimately changed their minds, They did…want you back, Livestock.”

Her frame jolted, as though she’d been slapped. Some old tendencies came back as she held her hands close to her chest. “Even Father?”

“He knew nothing about it, apparently. However, the Vampire King couldn’t allow them to interfere. They either had their memories erased or lie dead. I don’t know anything else.”

Fragile shoulders shook, and her voice softened into one he recognised.

“Why…why are you telling me this?”

His heavy attention slid to rest on her. “You want to die. That’s where this shift in behaviour has come from. You’ve been trying to anger us enough so that we’d snap and free you from misery. Isn’t that it?”

Limp, blonde hair fell forward her head bowed, trembling.

He continued in his usual calm, serious tone. “I can’t pin-point if your personality has split into two, or if you’re merely unstable. Either way, it was obvious you needed a reminder of why you’re alive.”

Yui gave a weak chuckle, turning to finally look up at him, her eyes completely dry. “You’ll just say I’m alive to awaken Adam.”

“Such a thing clearly won’t motivate you. No, the girl I know is sentimental enough to still carry a rosary long after she’s been damned.” He uttered, grasping her chin gently. “You must live for your own pride. Just as I did. If you can’t right now, then live for the ones who tried to save you.”

A choked sound escaped from the back of her throat, the sun catching dulled rosy eyes enough to give them a brief light. “Oh…I-I don’t…” her voice wavered, tears collecting and rolling free finally. “I don’t even know who I am anymore,” she admitted softly.

Ruki blinked, releasing her. He thought for a moment, sliding pale hands into his pockets and wandering towards the small gate at the front of the church. “Oi,” he called, glancing over his shoulder.

“Show us around this place, Yui.”

She stared, something subtly changing in her expression that transformed her entire face, as though only just hearing her name for the first time.

“U-us?”

He nodded to the area behind her, and Yui turned on her heel, breath hitching at the sight of the other Mukamis, who padded out of the dark of the surrounding woods.

Yui swallowed, blubbering. “Oh Yuma, I’m so sorry for-“

“Quit ya crying, Sow,” he tsked, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck.

“But I owe all of you an apology.”

“Hehe~ well we sometimes get carried away with things too,” Kou hummed. “How about in exchange, do as Ruki says and show us around, kay?”

Yui nodded, clutching her hands close to her chest and squeezing the rosary, wiping away her tears with her free hand.

“O-okay.”

#Diabolik lovers #yui komori #ruki mukami #mukami brothers #diahell #dialovers #diabolik lovers fanfiction

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grumpygreenwitch · 2 years

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The Fairy and the Prince #17 + #18 + #19

As with the kelpie, I didn’t want to split this particular storyline very much. Two of these chapters are relatively short, anyways, so here they are.

No one doubted the curse anymore. Master Leminy's sparse hair had gone completely white. He refused to train a replacement, though, and Adam found some degree of respect for his old enemy, because the Master of Scions simply refused to drop someone else into the mess, refused to burden anyone with the nightmares he already carried. He alone would bury the princes until he could see a King chosen.

It became impossible for Adam to hide the fact that he had friends no one could find in the palace grounds. On his thirteenth birthday the Dowager kept him for three torturous hours over tea only she drank and cakes neither of them ate, and every question was a trap. Some were subtle, some were more obvious, but each one begged him to betray Linden. He could scarcely breathe when she at last excused him, her mouth pressed into a thin line of disapproval, her blue eyes gone to ice with anger that wouldn't betray through her gracious tone or her kind words. Adam was told she would write to his parents, asking why no one had come to visit, why no presents were sent for his birthday or for the many holidays, why he was not asked to visit home. After all, he'd made it clear to all and sundry he didn't wish to become King, did he?

It felt like a threat, and he couldn't have said why. He spent those blustery, chilly days after his birthday, while he waited for Linden, sneaking around trying to figure out if she'd put someone to follow him. He had far less faith that he could turn an agent of the Dowager to his side.

But she did nothing, and he met his friends when spring at last truly and fully arrived. To them he confided everything as they traded coming-back and waiting-for presents, much to Needlemaw's amusement, not that she minded the gift of a beautiful pearl and silver button stolen from Arditty. Certainly not from a defeated enemy, but too pretty for her to reject, she'd added it to her girdle. She convinced the others that Adam had a rightful concern; while all their experience might be with their own Royals, there was no reason to believe an old crone perched on a throne and throwing young boys at the woods in the hopes one would stick was any better.

They taught him to disappear. Hiding the prince under a plain woolen shawl, Boulder taught him to become little more than a stone on a field, a tumbled-down wall in the garden, a weathered stump in the woods. While he still couldn't understand the language of the trees (or even hear it), Linden still taught him to take their hand so they could take him around one vast craggy trunk and out from behind another. They had to be trees that liked him, but then, Linden assured him that most of the trees in the Royal Woods did.

Needlemaw taught him to stalk. To creep up along walls and ceilings, to climb using the most slender of cracks in mortared stone, the finest of fissures on a beam or a pillar. To turn the tables on anyone who might be following him, to become their shadow instead. She didn't escalate those teachings to what she actually did when engaged in such sport, but she did let them practice on her. They failed to surprise her every time, and their punishment was usually that of any youngling of her clan: being pinned down and tickled until they could scarce breathe.

She reminded them that growing up didn't have to be unkind.

For a while everything was as it had always been. The only notable event came when spring and summer hung perfectly in balance against one another. Adam and Linden had gone to check the nests under the many eaves of the palace - there was a cat roaming about, and Linden did not approve. They liked the finches, chatty and fearless, the ferocious sparrows with their chests always puffed out and ready for a fight, the swallows that spoke of distant lands full of strange wonders. When they returned, they were informed that someone had indeed come looking for the young prince, but he'd not seen Boul, and Needle had made pleasant enough conversation with him.

"Nice as bread in milk," she described him, and Adam had to turn to Linden.

"Bland, she means."

"Is that... good?" he asked hesitantly.

Needle laughed a little. "Good enough. Bland hardly ever asks questions. Don't neither of ye worry about it, I'll be dealing with him if he's for poking his fine an' elegant nose in our little pie."

Adam made his own minor inquiries, through Culli-maid and a few of Arditty's suitors, with whom he'd made friends after they'd be cast aside by the fickle young woman. He had to, because as summer gained strength they began to see less and less of Needlemaw, and more and more Boul would report that she'd gone off to distract the lurking presence.

Bread in Milk, he found out, was Prince William of Astings, about to become sixteen when autumn arrived that year. He had to agree with Needlemaw's opinion: William was intelligent enough, smart enough, funny enough, capable enough. He was a whole of 'enough' without any single exceptional point to his favor. Even his looks were appealing enough and little else. He welcomed Adam's overtures of friendship, the younger boy once again having the advantage of being 'safe'; Richard knew he faced no competition for the crown there.

For the life of him Adam couldn't tell what Needlemaw saw in William that kept her from making the older prince disappear. He didn't fool himself as to what she was and what she could do; he'd had plenty of time to learn that she was the least patient of them all, and that by a very broad margin. He'd half expected her to come back from one of her forays with William chewing on one of the older prince's limbs, the rest of him gone into the blackness of the maw beyond the needle-like teeth. But William was alive, and she kept going off with him at least once a week.

They missed her, and Adam was the first to tell her so, just as the first leaves began to turn. It brought the redcap to perfect stillness.

"It's not in a silly way or anything," Linden hurried to add as they stood, stalwart as ever, by Adam's side.

"Very little of what ye all do has ever been silly," Needle replied, her voice low and full of unknown currents.

"Even the kelpie?"

"Dealing with the kelpie were dangerous," she replied. "But never silly. If yui'd been silly then, none of us would be here and the water-horse would be awful well fed." She dropped to a crouch before them; both Linden and Adam were beginning to shoot up, the first more than the latter, day by day growing further away from childhood. But she was still taller than both; only Boul outstripped her in both height and mass. "Why would ye miss me? There's a handful, a dozen, a hundred like me that could take me place tomorrow if aught came on me head."

"Yes, but they wouldn't be you," Adam replied. "They wouldn't have come climbing with us, they wouldn't know the secret ways into the caves, they wouldn't have done and said and shared all the things we've done with you. They wouldn't be Needlemaw, they'd just be someone else."

Linden shrugged. "And don't say they'd be the same if they called themselves Needlemaw. They'd just be someone called Needlemaw, they wouldn't actually be Needlemaw. Bit confusing, that."

"In a grove of linden trees I'm nae sure yui've a call to be talking about confusing names," Needle replied, reaching out to ruffle Linden's gold-tipped hair. "I didnae mean for ye to miss me. I've not been missed ever before, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Just hang around a bit. When you can."

"Adam..." She tugged her cap low, kissed the tips of her fingers and touched their chests. "I'll do what I can."

She kept her word. She lingered on long after Linden and Boul couldn't come, as summer turned to autumn and then to winter, cold and dry, the air crackling with the season. Part of it, Adam guessed, was because she wanted to see William. But she spent a great deal of time in Adam's quarters as well, much to the initial unease of the young prince's companions. She charmed Dane by teaching him wrestling moves the masters of the palace didn't know, and she allowed Beli to teach her letters, though she couldn't be bothered with numbers, betraying her narrow interest when Adam shared with them both primers on tactics and strategies, and books on battles of yore. But mostly she was found sprawled at Culli-maid's feet, helping with her knitting and her mending, fascinated by the way thread became fabric became cloth, and making a friend of Culli by her honest admiration.

For a while Adam fretted that someone would barge into his rooms and see her, the conversation with the Dowager looming large in his mind once again. Until Arditty actually did barge in, and Adam realized she couldn't see Needlemaw. He wasn't sure what the lady-in-waiting saw, it was a blur, a shadow behind Needle's real shape, the shape of a big cat or a lanky hound, or something in between. It hurt his head and made his eyes burn if he tried too hard to focus on it.

But eventually she, too, had to leave. "The doors close, Adam. 'Tis the season of parties in the court, and she would have the guts and gizzards of any as didn't show up. We all throw a party for the twins, each clan and burrow and nest and wee court. They hardly ever show up, but one cain't risk the time they do decide to come, aye? So there's parties and competitions and challenges and all sorts of posh and politics..." She stuck out her long black tongue and made a disagreeable sound.

"Will you be alright?" Adam was trying not to feel forlorn, and he knew he wasn't doing too good a job of it.

She reached out to brush back his hair. "Well as can be. Will ye?"

"I always try to be. Winter seems longer and longer each year."

"'Tis not," she assured him. It wasn't. It was actually growing shorter, because during winter the Folk in the Woods couldn't have the full measure of their cruel sport. They had been applying a fair measure of their immense power to bridge that gap, and it was beginning to show. "We'll all be back before ye ken."

With that, Adam had to be satisfied.

***

It was spring nearly fully fledged the next year when his birthday rolled around again, and once again the Dowager Queen closeted herself up with him. This time there was a parcel from home, a basket of sweets he'd not had since he'd left, and a belt with a silver buckle - gifts for a child. The Dowager pursed her lips, her disapproval mute as she presented the gifts, and Adam found himself torn between his fear of the old woman and her questions, and some measure of appreciation that at least one person knew he was being treated unfairly by his own family.

To be fair, he never really thought of his parents anymore. He seemed to recall his mother had wept when his father had set him in the coach that had brought him to the palace, but it seemed so long ago sometimes that he didn't trust the memory. It was hard to love people who had forgotten him so thoroughly, who never wrote, who thought he was still nine years old. Even Lemony-Leminy found a more apt peace offering for his vexing charge, gifting him access to the Dowager Queen's library, which was usually reserved only for those princes sixteen and older. It was given to him under the excuse of saddling him with more studying, but Adam knew that the years had taken a great deal of Leminy's spite out of him. To some degree, he suspected the Master of Scions was simply glad that Adam had managed to stay alive so long.

William came to him on a foggy afternoon. The encroaching darkness was warm and full of promise, and Adam felt nearly sure he could hear the whispering of the trees after all, even ensconced in a big chair in the library, a treatise on architecture on his lap. Spring would end winter's reign that night, and morning would bring his friends back to him.

"Adam," William's formality had the younger prince instantly on his guard.

"William."

"I heard your birthday just passed. Fourteen, is it?" When Adam smiled politely and nodded, the older prince added. "And still standing by your choice?"

"I don't see that the Queen gets any joy of her crown," Adam shrugged a little. "I don't know why anyone should want it so badly when she's our example."

At that William did laugh, surprised more than anything. "The things you say!" he chided. He drew a deep breath and looked out the window. "It should be spring proper soon."

Adam felt even warier. "A day or two."

William nodded. "I..." He hesitated, and then stretched a hand out to Adam, who nearly threw himself out of the plush chair; just because all the others knew he was no competition didn't mean he'd not learned to be cautious of them. He stopped when he realized there was a small parcel on the older prince's hand.

"Just... I mean." William worked his lips into a thin line. "Would you?"

And Adam understood with a crashing, shocked sort of disbelief. "William."

"I know it's not much," the older prince stumbled hurriedly over his words. "We're not wealthy, my family. But I wrote them and they know I'm seeing someone and I didn't... tell them much." He ran out of words and rocked uncertainly on his feet. "And they didn't mind." A little sheepish chuckle escaped him. "They didn't care. Shows what they think of my chances, ah?"

"William, I'm sure it's not like that," Adam protested, because he desperately wanted to believe on William's behalf that it wasn't like that, even though he was terribly certain that it absolutely was.

"Anyway!" The older boy rallied. "I just, if you could just... let her know that I think well of her. That I missed her."

Adam took the small wrapped parcel gingerly, feeling a hard, tiny box inside the fine paper.

"I'm not elf-touched, you know. I went to the priests and checked," William declared almost defiantly.

"Elf-touched?"

"Yes. When they put their power on you, on your heart, and you can't think or say or do or breathe anything but them."

"She wouldn't," Adam protested before he knew what he'd done.

William stared at him, then looked away at the world beyond the window. "Well, I suppose you'd know. But I checked. And I'm not. Just in case she'd think the present was for - Anyway. Would you get it to her? Please?"

Adam stared at the little gift, feeling as if something, some immense trap, were hovering over both William and Needlemaw. But he also knew he couldn't refuse. The choice of what to do with whatever might be inside the little box went only to one being. "I will," he assured William.

"Thank you."

***

Against his best judgment, Adam kept his word. The foggy weather turned into pouring rain the next day, but the day after it was a rainbow-kissed drizzle, and he launched himself out to the woods, feeling as if the palace were trying to strangle him. When he met Linden and the others they all fell in a heap of glad laughter under the gracious linden tree, covered in early green buds. They all took time to admire the tiny mushrooms growing out of Boul's shoulders, a mark that the young troll was, too, leaving childhood behind. They exchanged coming-back and staying-and-waiting presents, much to Needlemaw's quiet amusement. Adam shared out the candies he'd been given, and they all rolled gleefully on the damp green grass, simply glad to be free of the cold season, glad to be together once again.

Adam almost didn't give the redcap William's present, but it would have weighted on him like a knot of briars around his heart. In the end he washed his hands carefully so he could present it without smudging it with mud. "William sent this for you."

In the silence that descended over them, only the drizzle whispering over the new green could be heard.

"He didn't," Needlemaw had gone very still.

"He did. He checked. He's not charmed or anything. He..." Adam sighed. "He missed you."

"What a foolish thing it is, to miss the likes of me," she whispered, picking up the small bundle with the very tips of her black, deadly talons. "To hurt on my behalf."

"You're our friend," Linden replied simply. "It comes with everything, that. The good and the bad and the everything else. Wouldn't you miss us, if we were gone?"

Needlemaw couldn't answer. She shouldn't, she knew. Her people were legion, an uncounted mass, a horde that overran and drowned. No one counted them one by one except their own kind, their own kin.

Except for one young mortal boy, an even younger troll, and a wild fey sapling, first in centuries sprouted by the Green Court.

"What is?" Boul asked.

"Who cares!" Needlemaw declared tartly, and threw the little parcel in her mouth, swallowing it in one gulp and tackling Linden in one arm, Adam in the other, picking them both up and running wild through the woods, howling like a moon-drunk wolf.

It was the longest time she'd spend with them that spring. From then on, nearly as soon as Adam met them she would disappear, returning only when it was time for them to part for the day. Linden could call for her, and she'd always unfailingly come, but it was obvious she didn't appreciate being summoned so, and Linden grew as loathe of doing it as Boul and Adam were of asking.

They ended up following her, of course. Much later on in life, Adam would nurse a suspicion that they'd only succeeded in the end when the fairy maid had at last become too distracted to balk her pursuers, or when she'd simply stopped caring about hiding from them.

He couldn't look very long; his head began to pound if he did, because flickering under that sight he could still see Needlemaw, deadly and alien and dangerous, even as she combed long black talons through William's curling brown hair, even as the two shared a bottle of berry cordial and a tray of grapes and cheese tidbits, laughing and speaking in quiet tones he'd grown to recognize from Arditty and her many beaus.

Neither Linden or Adam said anything, of course. They didn't know what to say. Adam only knew that Linden was upset, and he couldn't quite figure out how to ask why without asking why. They slipped away to the shady, cool space beneath several rows of ancient peonies and laid down, head to head, backs on the cool dark ground, staring up at the patches and pieces of the pure spring sky.

"It's not forbidden or anything, is it?" Adam dared at last.

"No," Linden replied curtly. "But it's very stupid of her."

"Oh." Adam popped his lips soundlessly until Linden smacked his shoulder for it. "They seem to be fine."

"Adam, do you really think Needle's for marrying a princely sort?" Linden demanded tartly.

"Well, no. She'd be bored to death five minutes in."

"Yes." Linden shifted to rest their weight on their elbows, and Adam canted his head to stare at those angry, shattered, many-colored eyes. "Do you need me to explain what happens when someone like Needlemaw gets bored?"

Adam bit his lip. "Oh." When he tried to pop his lips again Linden swatted him once more. "Well, she doesn't look bored is the thing! Maybe William's nice, maybe she really does like him, and he likes her."

"Not her. Not the real her." Linden seemed to think, chewing on their lip, and finally dropped their head to their hands with an impotent, impatient sound.

"Yeah, I'm not telling her, either," Adam agreed.

#the fairy and the prince #linden and adam #linden the fairy #adam the prince #original writing #boul #boul the troll #boulders-for-brains #needlemaw #needlemaw the redcap #fantasy #fantasy writing

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

What's New, Pussycat? (branjie) - writworm42

A/N: For Holtzmanns, who asked for Brooke helping Vanjie get over a fear of cats. Thanks a million and a half to Meggie for beta-ing <3

(1)

Brooke expected to open the door to a hug. She expected to open the door to a high-pitched yell, little arms thrown around her neck, a big, long, excited kiss on her lips. She expected to open the door to a ball of pure joy and energy, one that would make her feel excited and giddy, too.

What she didn’t expect was for Vanessa to stand stock-still and stare right past her.

“Babe, are you okay?” Brooke frowned. She turned around, worried, to see what Vanessa was staring at, but there was only Apollo washing himself contentedly, while Henry sat and observed the scene.

Suddenly, it clicked.

“Jo, are you… Are you afraid of cats?”

“No!” Vanessa protested loudly. There was a beat, Brooke staring Vanessa down with a bemused look, and Vanessa looked down, sheepishly admitting, “Yes. It’s not my fault, though!” she interjected when she noticed the smirk spreading on Brooke’s face. “They got the third eye!”

“Baby, they’re just animals.” Brooke tried and failed to hold back her laughter, giggles coming out in snorts as she tried her best to keep them in.

“I know that! Don’t mean they ain’t carryin’ some kind of demon-type juju bullshit!”

“Oh my God.” Brooke wiped her eyes, still laughing. “But you’ve seen them before, you knew I had them.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t expect them to greet me at the motherfucking door! Starin’ at me like that. Shit. Might as well just try an’ kill me right here.”

“Well, unless you want to sleep outside tonight, you’re gonna have to come in.” Brooke slung her arm around a hesitant-looking Vanessa and steered her inside, pushing a little to offset the suddenly heavy, stubborn drag of Vanessa’s feet.

“Relax, babe.” Brooke cracked a smile, giggles escaping once again, “I’ll protect you.”

(2)

The truth of the matter was, having a boyfriend who was afraid of cats just wouldn’t do. Henry and Apollo liked seeing Brooke around, liked being able to know where she was in case they needed her. They liked having full reign of the house and being able to go where they pleased, whenever they pleased. They liked to sneak up on Brooke and butt their heads against her shins and liked to stare at strangers, daring them to touch their human.

Vanessa, on the other hand, spent their first day together holed up in Brooke’s room with the door closed, insisting that it stay that way overnight, yelling back every time she heard the cats meowing on the other side of the door. At one point when she had to go to the bathroom, she insisted Brooke come with her and guard the door, adamant that she didn’t want ‘some bitchass whisker monster’ sneaking up on her and ‘snakin’ me with its claws while my drawers are down.’

No, it was absolutely unacceptable–something had to be done. And Brooke had ten more days to do it; ten days she was sure she could take full advantage of.

On day two, Vanessa went out with Kameron while Brooke stayed at home to “finish up some work.” Vanessa hadn’t been too happy, but when Brooke promised her with a wink that she’d make it up to her later, she got over it pretty quickly. Vanessa had barely closed the door behind herself before Brooke whipped out her laptop, furiously Googling animal phobias and how to get over them.

(3)

Vanessa was still so blissfully fucked out the next morning that she didn’t even notice that Brooke had left the door wide open when she’d gotten up to make breakfast. It was just as well; Brooke needed Vanessa nice and calm if her plan was going to work.

“Hey, baby!” Brooke smiled widely as Vanessa wandered into the kitchen, eyes still bleary with sleep. “I made pancakes.”

“Mm.” Vanessa yawned and slid up beside Brooke, wrapping her arms around her waist and nuzzling into her side. Brooke leaned down and kissed the top of Vanessa’s head, breathing in her smell: faint traces of Old Spice mixed with the lingering musk of linens soaked with sex filling Brooke’s mind with memories of lazy mornings in bed and cuddles on the couch, kisses over home-cooked meals and the weight of Vanessa on her lap while watching their friends perform at the club.

She was so wrapped up in breathing Vanessa in that she failed to notice the other smell building up in front of her until Vanessa pulled away suddenly, diving towards the grill.

“Shit, babe, the pancakes!”

Okay, so maybe Brooke’s original plan of cuddling up on the couch to eat breakfast while psychoanalyzing Vanessa’s fear didn’t work out. But, on the other hand, Vanessa was so busy trying to scrape the smoking remains of burnt batter off the grill that she didn’t notice Henry and Apollo creeping over to watch the action.

(4)

“I can’t believe this.” Vanessa huffed, slumping back against her seat dramatically.

“It’s just a quick stop.” Brooke kept her eyes on the road, suppressing a flash of irritation. She knew that this was all part of a plan Vanessa didn’t necessarily agree to, but did she have to be such a brat about it?

“Pet stores smell, Mary! I can’t be stinkin’ up all of Nashville! I got a reputation to uphold.”

“I think you’ll be fine.” Brooke responded dryly as they pulled into the parking lot. Her tension dissipated, though, when they got out of the car, Brooke grabbing Vanessa by the wrist and pulling her into the shop maybe a little more urgently than was necessary.

Pet Club 96 was small, and cluttered, but it was Brooke’s go-to for anything cat-related. The store carried lesser-known cat food brands that pleased even the pickiest of cats, and their toy and sweater prices were much lower than any Petsmart or Petco this side of the county. The lone staff member was a tried-and-true cat lover, and always had the best stories to tell. Brooke was excited to share all of that with Vanessa, of course, but the real agenda for the day was a little more specific.

“Look, baby, kittens!” Brooke gasped as she dragged Vanessa over to the back of the store, to the single, large cage where three tiny, mewling balls of fluff wriggled around, sticking their noses through the bars of their cage and stepping over each other to greet the action going on outside. Vanessa looked like she was going to say something, probably call Brooke out on her reason for bringing her here, but Brooke didn’t give her the chance.

“Aww, aren’t they cute?” Brooke grabbed Vanessa by the hand and yanked her down face to face with a tiny gray one, clearly the runt of the litter, who mewed pitifully at Vanessa. “Look at him, so tiny. Hi, buddy.” The kitten responded by sticking out a paw and catching Vanessa’s hand. Brooke expected her to jump back, maybe to yell, and tense, but to her surprise, Vanessa barely moved. Rather, she cracked a little smile.

“Aw, he a little rascal, ain’t he?” Vanessa stuck a single finger out towards the cage, watching with a surprising amusement as the kitten stuck out its paw and batted at Vanessa.

“Not very scary when they’re that small, are they?” Brooke grinned, and not even the venomous look Vanessa shot her could ruin the smug satisfaction that swelled in her chest, buoying her mood and egging her on.

(5)

Vanessa jolted upright in bed the minute she heard the scratching. “Did you hear that?”

“Mm, hear what?” Brooke stirred beside her, blinking hard and yawning.

“That scratching noise. Shh! There it is again.” Indeed, a little scuffing sound followed, barely audible but no less ignorable to anyone who knew what it signified.

Brooke sighed deeply, but chuckled a little despite herself. “That’s just the cats, baby. They miss us.”

“Oh.” Vanessa seemed to be placated at the answer, but stayed upright, continuing to stare at the door intently.

“Can I let them in? They’re not going to stop otherwise.” As if to illustrate Brooke’s point, a loud, plaintive meow sounded from the other side of the door. Vanessa groaned.

“Fine, but I better not wake up with no scratches on my face, bitch. It’s too expensive for that.”

(6)

Vanessa didn’t wake up with any scratches on her face, but Brooke had to bite her tongue hard not to point out that the smaller queen had woken up with Henry’s furry body snuggled in her arms.

(7)

By day seven, Brooke hadn’t just leaned in to her reputation as a master manipulator; she’d started to wear it as a badge of honour. They were halfway into The Notebook, Vanessa wrapped in a Snuggie while resting her head in Brooke’s lap, when Brooke decided that right then was the perfect time for popcorn.

“No, don’t get up, baby, I’m the one who wants it, I’ll get it.” Brooke slid out from under Vanessa, stroking a gentle hand through her hair before gingerly escaping to the kitchen. She worked fast–swapped out the plain kernels for pre-buttered, quietly took the margarine out of the fridge to coat the bowl lightly before dumping the popcorn in on top of it.

She’d barely sat down again before the cats had appeared, their tails twitching and throats rumbling as they waited for someone to inevitably drop a kernel.

“Gross, why’s it so greasy?” Vanessa scrunched up her nose and wiped her hand off on the fabric of her snuggie, practically inviting Henry to jump up and start sniffing at the oily smear left near her legs. Vanessa kicked him away, but otherwise didn’t react, and to Brooke, that was progress.

(8)

“GET ONE PAW CLOSER, BITCH, I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“Brock? Is everything alright?”

Brooke popped her head out of her room to see Vanessa holding a plate of pasta above her head and Apollo scrambling across the room, his claws scratching against the floor.

“Yeah, mom, everything’s fine.” Brooke went back in and closed the door. “Jo’s just getting used to the cats.”

“Oh. Is that… Does he normally react to things that way?”

There was a clatter outside, a voice growling out some Spanish curse-words, and then silence, followed by a quiet concession. Fine, I’ll pick you up. Fucking bitch.

Brooke shrugged, suppressing a giggle. “It’s not unusual.”

(9)

When Brooke woke up the next morning, Vanessa was sitting on the couch with Henry on her lap.

“Do mine eyes deceive me?” Brooke gasped in mock surprise, “Are you, Jose Cancel, otherwise known as Miss Vanessa Isabella Vanjie Mateo, hater of all things feline, sitting on my couch with a cat on your lap?”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I don’t want him here, he just jumped up on me.”

“Uh-huh.” Brooke cocked and eyebrow, holding back a smirk. “So why don’t you just get up?”

Vanessa blinked, her face completely blank.

“But… he’s on my lap.”

(10)

Brooke had to admit, she’d never seen Henry or Apollo adjust to a person as fast as they’d taken to Vanjie. Maybe it was the fact that at first, she’d left them alone; maybe it was that she was secretly (allegedly) smearing the waistband of Vanessa’s shorts with just a smidge of butter every night. The details weren’t important. What mattered was, when Brooke and Vanessa went to bed on their second-to-last night together, they left the door open, and the cats slept at the foot of their bed.

(11)

“Awww, bye, little guys!” Vanessa crouched down to meet Henry and Apollo, who had padded over to sniff at the suitcases gathered next to the door and give Vanessa’s ankles a few last licks

“You’re not afraid of the demon-type juju bullshit anymore?” Brooke couldn’t resist teasing the Vanessa as the small queen leaned down to pick Henry up, snuggling into his fur and giving the top of his head a little kiss.

“Okay, maybe I was being a bit dramatic.” Vanessa conceded through a mouthful of fur, rolling her eyes dramatically. “But they’re not that bad, actually.”

“I’m glad you’re finally seeing reason.” Brooke winked, taking Henry from Vanessa’s arms and letting him down onto the floor. “Ready to go?”

Vanessa hesitated for a moment, looking sheepishly from Brooke back to the cats and back to Brooke again. Brooke grinned, a bubble of affection rising up in her chest, forcing its way out in a little laugh.

“It’s okay, babe,” she teased, pushing Vanessa out the door and giving her a quick kiss, “You’re coming back next month.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #fluff #domestic #writworm42

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summahsunlight · 5 years

Text

This Way Became My Journey, CH. 3

Word Count: 4363

Pairings: Janeway/Chakotay, Paris/OFC

Characters: Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay, Tom Paris, Sarah Barrett (OC), Harry Kim, B’Elanna Torres, Kes, Neelix, the Doctor

Master List

Against her better judgement, Kathryn Janeway has taken her children with her on the trip to the Badlands to track Chakotay and the Maquis rebels. But when the ship is thrown into the Delta Quadrant, Janeway is forced to join with the Maquis in order to survive the treacherous, unknown part of the galaxy.

Voyager's conference room wasn't as grand as some of the other ones he had seen in his day, but Tom Paris reasoned it was functional. Sarah Barrett herself had requested that he join the senior staff for a briefing. She hadn't said what admiral would be briefing them, but she had mentioned something about a conference call. She had made it a point to walk in with him; she wanted the officers who opposed of him to know she wouldn't stand for it.

"What is he doing here?" Commander Cavit asked hotly.

Sarah raised her chin slightly as she took her seat. "I asked him to be here, Commander. He is after all here to help us find the Maquis."

Derek Evans, the Chief Engineer, leaned back in his chair with a scowl on his face. "We're perfectly capable of finding the Maquis in our own," he grumbled.

Tom noticed Sarah's response was a hard glare at that man, which made him divert his eyes. She's two for two, he thought whimsically as he took his seat next to her. He was happy for the support, he needed all of it that he could get. Glancing across the table he met the eyes of Harry Kim. He was certain at some point during this three week mission that even young, ambitious Harry would see him for what he really was, a screw up and no body wanted to be friends with a screw up.

Kathryn Janeway walked briskly into the room and called the meeting to order. "We'll be receiving an update from Headquarters any minute. Has there been any sign of the Maquis?"

"None yet," Kim replied. "Short and long range sensors are picking up nothing; we appear to be the only ship in this sector of space."

"I haven't detected any other warp trails in the vicinity," Stadi said. "We're still following the trails of the Gul Evek's ship and the Val Jean."

Janeway curtly nodded her head. "Keep all sensors scanning for that ship." The comline beeped then and she pressed a button on a panel near her chair. "Janeway."

"We're receiving a transmission from Admiral Hanson, Captain."

"Patch him through."

"Aye Captain."

Tom turned his chair about, not looking forward to this message. Hanson had been one of the admirals adamant that he be ushered out of Starfleet permanently. The good Admiral was probably not happy that Janeway had asked to use him on this mission. The Admiral's face soon filled the viewscreen. He looked older and more haggard than Tom had last seen him.

"Captain Janeway," Hanson began, "I wish I had some good news to bring you. Unfortunately we still haven't heard from Mister Tuvok. Headquarters believes that the ship was lost in the Badlands. It's your mission now to bring in the wreckagec for further analysis."

"What exactly are we looking for?" Janeway questioned.

"Leave that for us to determine, Captain, Hanson out."

The screen went black and Janeway quickly ushered the senior staff back to work, except Sarah. Tom caught a glance of her lingering behind to speak with the Captain before the doors shut and he went about his business.

Janeway stood at the head of the table, palms leaning against the surface. "Your opinion on that message."

"I'm not sure how they could determine that the Val Jean had been destroyed when there has been no sign of wreckage. As for what we're looking for, I'm not sure. There's been speculation that a Federation ship was responsible for shooting the Val Jean down, but it's just speculation," Sarah answered. "If it was, then Headquarters has a bigger problem that the Maquis on their hands."

The Captain shook her head. "A ship just doesn't disappear without a trace like this."

Sarah stiffened slightly. "Captain, the Badlands aren't your average trip through space. Plasma storms could completely destroy a ship without leaving a trace. There have been lots of ships that have disappeared without a trace."

Janeway grinned sadly. "At least in those cases traces of something had been found. We're grasping at straws here."

"Isn't that part of our job, ma'am?"

"I suppose it is, Counselor," Janeway said, with a wave of her hand. "Thank you, you're dismissed."

Sarah left the room to find Tom standing outside waiting for her. "Thanks, for sticking up for me."

"I'm just doing my job," she said, getting into a turbo lift.

Tom followed her. "I know what people think of me, it can't be easy doing your job."

"Deck two," Sarah ordered the lift. She looked patiently at Tom.

"That's where I'm going too."

Sarah didn't think it was coincidence. "Perhaps you don't know a lot about me Mister Paris, but I'm not a fan favorite around here either. My job was going to be rough from the start whether or not you were here."

"You wound me, Counselor," Tom said. "Here I thought it was because you liked me."

The lift doors opened. Sarah led the way out, glancing over her shoulder at Paris. His grey-blue eyes were fixed upon her face in a look that she had seen far too often from men, but there was something different about his look, she just couldn't put her finger on it. "Tell me something, Paris, were you born this arrogant or did you learn it over time."

Tom quirked a grin. "That's not arrogance, sweetheart, it's charm."

"Sorry, I get them confused all the time," Sarah said, typing in the access code to her office.

"Don't worry about it; join me for lunch?"

"I have a date...with a few personnel reports," Sarah said, slipping into her office. The door slid shut and she closed her eyes and sighed. She shouldn't like him, he really was cocky, arrogant and self-centered, but she couldn't help it. For whatever reason Sarah liked Tom Paris but there was no way she was ever going to admit it to him, that would only make him even more cocky, and the ship didn't need that.

The mess hall seemed to be the place if you wanted a lot of social interactions. There were at least twenty people in the room when Tom Paris had entered, one of them being Harry Kim sitting with the First Officer and the Doctor. There was no doubt in his mind that the officers were telling young Harry all about what he had done previously to land him jail. He found that it made his blood boil, because Harry had been the only one to be civil to him, with the exception of Janeway, and that pretty counselor, Sarah Barrett. Paris tried to ignore the angry feelings as he went to one of the replicators.

"Tomato soup," he ordered the computer, his eyes glancing over his shoulder at the group. The CMO and Cavit were facing him and both saw him looking their way. For a brief moment their eyes met in glares, but Tom turned back to the computer when it started to babble at him.

"There are fourteen varieties of tomato soup available from this replicator," the computer responded, beginning to list off all of them. Paris rolled his eyes. All he wanted was a bowl of tomato soup and the blasted computer had to go into a full blown out menu.

"You need to be specific," a small voice said.

He glanced down to see a small boy standing next to him. He was unaware that there were children on board the ship and the sight of a five year old shocked him. The kid was of average height for his age, with short dark hair and dazzling blue eyes. Paris couldn't help but feel he had seen the boy's face somewhere before.

"Plain," Paris instructed the computer. It stopped its listing.

Before the computer could reply, the boy said, "You're going to have to be more specific than that."

"Hot or chilled?" the computer asked. Sure enough the kid had been right.

Paris found that he did not like it when the boy was right. He scowled at the replicator. "Hot, plain, tomato soup!" It materialized before him and as he took the tray in his hands, he saw the Doctor and First Officer get up to leave. But as he tried to move, he found that the boy was still standing there looking at him. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, stiffly.

"Mama says you're from jail," the child quipped.

"That's right," Paris said with a huff. "Who's your mother kid?"

"Captain Janeway," the boy replied.

Paris raised his eyebrows. No one wonder the kid had looked familiar to him; he was a spitting image of Janeway. Paris had not even been aware that the Captain had a child on board. Guess I should have paid more attention to the gossip that wasn't about Sarah Barrett, he thought, as he tried to move away to go have a seat with Harry, but the kid just would not move. "Is there something else?" he asked, exasperated.

"You worked for the Maquis," Michael stated.

"Yeah, not for long though."

"Mama says you got caught, that's why you were in jail," the boy said.

Is there anything that Janeway has not told her kid about? Paris thought suddenly, with a little bit of anger. Apparently nothing was going to be sacred on this trip; even a child knew about his past. "Yeah, I worked for the Maquis," he said, bitterly. "And got caught; now can I go eat my soup?"

"Sure, but you're not going to like it," the kid countered. "The replicator's food is awful."

"Then why are you down here?" Paris couldn't help but snap.

"Ava wanted chocolate milk."

"You couldn't have gotten that in your quarters?" Paris questioned, wondering who Ava was. Did the Captain have more children that he wasn't aware of?

"Well…" the boy began to say as Cavit stepped up.

"Michael you've wasted enough of Mister Paris' time," he said. "Move along now; your mother made it clear that you're to stay in your quarters, unless you're with her."

The child scampered away. Cavit just gave Paris a stern look before he too left the mess hall. Tom was finally able to go and have a seat with Harry. He set his tray down across from the young ensign who was looking at him sternly. He immediately knew what had transpired. It was only a matter of time before someone told the young Harry what Tom had done. "There you see, I told you it wouldn't take long," he said, sitting down.

"Is it true?" Harry asked.

"Was the accident my fault? Yes. Pilot error, but it took me a while to admit it." He took a bite of his soup and found that Michael Janeway had been right; it was awful. He pushed the tray away from him. "Ugh, fourteen varieties and they can't even get plain tomato soup right."

Harry ignored him. "They said you falsified reports."

"That's right."

"Why?"

"What's the difference?" Tom asked. "I lied."

Harry frowned at him. "But then you came forward and admitted it was your fault."

Tom straightened slightly. "I'll tell you the truth Harry. All I had to do was keep my mouth shut and I was home free. But I couldn't," he looked at Harry mockingly. "The ghost of those three dead officers came to me in the middle of the night and taught me the true meaning of Christmas."

Harry rolled his eyes at the sarcastic remark.

Tom looked down at the table for a moment, thinking of what to say next. "So I confessed. Worst mistake I ever made, but not my last. After they cashiered me out of Starfleet I went out looking for a fight and found the Maquis. And on my first assignment I was caught."

"It must have been especially tough for you being the son of an admiral," Harry replied.

Tom looked angry. "Frankly I think it was tougher on my father than it was on me." He picked his tray up and began to leave, looking down at Harry. "Look I know those guys told you to stay away from me, and you know what? You ought to listen to them. I'm not exactly a good luck charm." He started to walk away again but Harry turned around to look at him with a slight smile on his face.

"I don't need anyone to chose my friends for me," he informed Tom.

"Janeway to Paris," the Captain's voice came over the comm.

"Go ahead," Paris said.

"Report to the bridge. We're approaching the Badlands."

When Kim and Paris entered the bridge, Janeway was the one to inform them that they had approximated the Maquis' course. The two young men exchanged glances before Harry went to his station to take over. Janeway went around the tactical station and down the steps to sit in her seat; Cavit was instructing Stadi to adjust their course to the new coordinates.

Sarah Barrett was seated next to Janeway's chair, a PADD in her hand. Her deep blue eyes were running over the report, but Tom knew she was watching him. He had called her service record up after meeting her in the ready room. She was a lot like him in certain senses, the child of an Admiral, spent some time in prison for dereliction of duty and drug rehab afterwards. Janeway had probably asked her to come on board for her expertise in terrorists, not for her counseling skills. Although, he didn't doubt she knew what she was doing, since she had been one of the first people in Starfleet to issue a report on the psychological mind of the Borg Collective. If she could break down the Borg, she could break down a simple human.

"The Cardassians claim that they forced the Maquis ship into a plasma storm where it was destroyed," Janeway was informing Paris, who was following behind her to the command station. Her voice brought him out of his intense thoughts on Barrett. "But our probes haven't picked up any debris."

"The plasma storm might not leave any debris," Paris offered.

Janeway looked at him thoughtfully from her chair. "We'd still be able to pick a residence trace from the warp core." She faintly heard a warning beep going off at the ops station.

"Captain," Kim said, studying his controls. "I'm reading a coherent tetryon beam scanning us."

Janeway looked up at him. "Origin Mister Kim?"

Kim shook his head, typing at his controls. "I'm not sure, there's also a displacement wave moving towards us."

"On screen," Janeway ordered, turning to look at the view screen. The Badlands came into view, but with an energy wave spanning the pink clouds, quickly approaching her ship. She felt a lump forming in her throat.

"That's no plasma storm," Barrett bluntly stated, anxiety laced in her voice.

"Analysis," Janeway ordered Kim, feeling her own anxiety growing.

"Some kind of polarized magnetic variation," Kim answered her.

"We might be able to disperse it with a graviton particle field," Cavit suggested from his position behind Stadi.

"Do it," Janeway ordered him. He moved away from the conn and quickly moved to tactical. "Red alert," Janeway said, standing up, Paris behind her. The lights on the bridge dimmed as the alarm sounded, flooding the cabin in a red glow. "Move us away from it Lieutenant," she ordered Stadi.

Stadi quickly complied. "New heading four one mark one zero eight," the Betazoid announced.

The ship lurched to its new course trying to outrun the displacement wave.

"Initiating graviton field," Cavit announced from tactical.

Janeway watched on the screen as the graviton field was dispersed into the displacement wave. A warning blare from Ops told her what she needed to know before Kim announced that the field had no effect. The wave was still moving towards them. "Full impulse," she told Stadi. However faster they seemed to go, the wave seemed to match. She felt her heart quicken. The wave had the potential to tear her ship apart, killing her crew along with herself and her children. I should have listened to my mother! My children are going to die because of my selfishness!

"The wave will intercept us in twelve seconds," Kim announced. It sounded like a death sentence to Janeway's ears.

"Can we go to warp," she asked, anxiously.

"Not until we clear the plasma field, Captain," Stadi replied, nervously looking up at the view screen at the fast approaching displacement wave.

"Five seconds!"

"Brace for impact!" Janeway ordered turning about to find her chair as a bright light engulfed the bridge. She was just getting there when there was a flash of white light and the ship was thrown about violently. She grabbed a hold of whatever she could but it was no use. The power of the wave hitting the ship forced her hands to lose their grip on the arms of her chair that she was clinging too and she was slammed onto the deck, where for a few brief seconds everything went black.

When she came too she managed to crawl up on her knees. There was smoke in the cabin, mangled pieces of pipes hanging down from the ceiling, and sparks emitting from broken power lines and conduits. The lights were low. Glancing about she noticed her First Officer lying on his back near the conn station. Janeway pushed her self up onto her knees and crawled towards the injured Cavit. He had been trying to get back to his chair as well when the wave hit. Hair in her face, she placed a hand to Cavit's neck to find a pulse but there was none. Taking the dead officer's hand in her own she closed her eyes briefly and said a silent prayer.

"Report!" she yelled over her shoulder to a hopefully unharmed Harry Kim.

Kim had been thrown from his station but was not hurt. He quickly rushed over to his beeping controls. "Hull breach, deck fourteen. comm lines to Engineering are down. I'm trying to reestablish," Kim announced.

Janeway got to her feet and went to the nearest station, moving Paris out of the way by gently touching his arm. "Repair crews seal off hull breach on deck fourteen," she ordered, accessing the computer to hopefully locate her children. Oh please, don't let them be hurt, she prayed to herself. She heard an "Aye captain," come over the comm. line but she was not sure who it was. Her mind was in a state of flux; she had to find the children.

"Casualty reports coming in," tactical said. "Sickbay is not responding."

"Bridge to sickbay," Janeway called. There was no answer. "Doctor, can you hear me?" she asked, glancing to her left. She noticed Paris at her feet, leaning over an injured Stadi. The young woman's dark eyes were frozen open in pain and horror; blood covered her face and uniform. "Paris how's Stadi?" she asked, fearing the answer.

"She's dead," Paris answered, softly making eye contact with the Captain. The older woman looked away from him. He moved about on the floor trying to gain his bearings. That's when he saw Barrett, laying on back at the foot of her chair. She had a gash running down the length of her face and from where he was situated it appeared that she was not breathing. He crawled towards her and checked for a pulse. It was fairly strong and she was breathing. He guessed that the blow to the head had knocked her out and she had a concussion.

Pulling out his tricorder he hoped that he could get some form of readings on her even if the instrument he was holding in his hand wasn't a medical tricorder. The tiny device managed to give him her vitals but other than that, he wasn't sure the extent of her injuries.

Barrett groaned and her eyes opened slightly to look at him. "Paris?" she whispered.

"Hold on," he told her, putting the tricorder away. "You have a nasty cut on your head, maybe even a concussion and it looks like you took a pretty good tumble out of your seat there. You should lay here until we can get you to sickbay."

"Help me up," she instructed him.

"Counselor, you really shouldn't move until a crew can take you to sickbay."

She reached out and grabbed a hold of his upper arm and used it to force her self up into a sitting position. "Damn it, Paris, I'm fine! Now help me up! That's an order!"

He hated how she had pulled the rank on him to get what she wanted but did as he was told, stating, "I don't think your in much a position to be ordering me around, but have it your way." She made it to her feet, but not without a few wobbles before she could gain her own bearings. Immediately she went to help the others. Like a true Starfleet officer, Paris observed going to stand besides Janeway who was furiously running her fingers over the conn.

"Is the main computer up?" Janeway was yelling at tactical. She had a frayed tone to her voice and Paris immediately thought of the little boy in the mess hall. The woman was trying to find her kids. He came to stand besides her and began using the controls, while Rollins replied that the main computer was off line.

Of course, it would be too easy to ask the computer where the kids were, Tom thought as he accessed the internal sensors. It would be easy enough to refine them to search for two human children, since they were the only youths on the ship; it was just going to take a little bit longer than asking the computer.

Janeway was growing increasingly more frustrated. All she wanted to do at that moment was locate her children but everyone yelling different reports at her kept her from doing what she desired. It was making her mind go in what felt like five thousand directions. She wasn't sure what problem she should focus on first; there were just so many of them she didn't know where to start.

"Captain, there's something out there," Kim announced.

She rolled her eyes. "I need a better description than that Mister Kim."

"I don't know… I'm reading," he paused, "I'm not sure what I'm reading."

Janeway felt helpless, confused. The wave should have ripped the ship apart in the Badlands but somehow it was here, all in one piece, mostly. It was something that she was going to have to figure out later. Right now, they had more pressing matters. She opened her mouth to say something to Kim when Paris whispered, "The kids are okay, they're in your quarters, and life signs are strong."

She looked at him gratefully and silently acknowledged him. "Can you get the view screen operational?" she asked Kim.

"I'm trying," Kim responded. Suddenly the static on the view screen disappeared to show a massive array with several arms in the middle of space. It was dispersing a pulse of energy every few seconds that shot out into the distance of space. Janeway or anyone on the bridge for that matter had not seen anything like it ever and it was mesmerizing. What is going on? Janeway thought. There were no reports of a space station anywhere near the Badlands. She heard another beeping noise from the operations station.

"Captain if these sensors are working. We're over 70,000 light years from where we were. We're on the other side of the galaxy," Kim announced.

Paris glanced at Janeway whose eyes were locked on the array. This is not what I had bargained for, he thought.

"Captain, the Maquis ship is out there, but I'm not reading any life signs," Kim reported.

Janeway stepped around a crew taking Stadi's body off of the bridge. "What about on that…that array?" she questioned stepping up to Kim's station. She glanced over her shoulder at the alien array. A few minutes ago they had been in the Badlands and now her new operations officer was telling her that her ship had been hurled across the galaxy, over seventy thousand light years from home. This isn't how she had envisioned the mission to retrieve the Maquis to go. Then again, she reasoned, nothing every seemed to go right when you were a Starfleet officer. It was just a part of the job.

"Our sensors can't penetrate it," Kim's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Any idea what those pulses are coming from it Mister Kim?"

"Massive burst of radon energy. They seemed to be directed towards a nearby G-type star system."

"Try hailing the array," Janeway said, making her way up to the command station. There was a comm. signal as she did so.

"Engineering to bridge. We have severe damage. The Chief's dead. Possibility of a warp core breach."

Janeway took a deep breath before turning about. "Secure all engineering systems! I'm on my way." As she passed by Kim he looked at her gravely.

"No response from the array," he told her.

"Ensign, get down to sickbay. See what's going on," Janeway ordered Kim, she looked over at tactical. "Sarah the bridge is yours," she said disappearing into the turbo lift.

Paris turned about to see Kim get into another turbo lift. He sprinted towards the lift, calling, "Harry, wait for me." He grabbed a hold of Sarah's arm, who had been helping Rollins. "Come on Counselor, time to get fixed up, and I won't take no for an answer. You're not going to be able to pull rank on me this time."

"But," Sarah sputtered, "Captain Janeway left me in charge of the bridge."

"And you're not fit to command right now."

His grip was too tight for her to attempt to break free. As he yanked her into the turbo lift she managed to yell out, "Mister Rollins you have the bridge!" She was just going to have to go unwillingly with Paris, throbbing head and all.

#janeway x chakotay #star trek voyager fanfiction #star trek voyager #kathryn janeway #chakotay #tom paris #sarah barrett (oc)#harry kim #b'elanna torres #kes #neelix #the doctor (emh)#tom paris x ofc

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mellowgirl01 · 5 years

Text

🍷Sweet Wine🍷

masterlist

Wordcount: 5180

Characters:26054

People: Adam x Y/N x Eve

Made for: @ladyfluff

Request:No

Tag: @ladyfluff @may-bereblog @jaquellejohnson

Date:2/24/19

Summary: Back to the very start. Back to where we began. That’s where I wanna go so then I can relive seeing your face again. Yet what I never wanna relive was the end.

Warning: Physical violence, screaming cursing, forms of abuse. (While I do have these things in here I created this story for lady fluff and I have a well understanding that she doesn’t really like to focus so much on things like these. For reasons I will not say though because that is her private business. So while I do have these things in the story it will only be for a second and then it doesn't return. I hope that while I have put these things in the story, Everyone will like the way that it’s made. And or hope that the next chapter will be good for all of you)

A/N: This chapter is very long due to the fact that I wanted to really cover a lot about how the never aging lovers meet the lovely Y/N Might have 4 parts Might not but this is Part 1, I will update my master list for this so that no one gets confused. Hope you all enjoy.

Let us go back to the year of 1867

As most of the people would be busy out on the street and talking, conversating , minding their own business as life continues on. People on the fine streets on london decked in all of their finest attire moving fast and talking faster. There’s one girl that likes to take her time and look down at those busy people that move faster than ants. She couldn’t do this too often though.

“Y/N!!!!!”

Due to the fact that she had a mistress to please. Rather a lady of the new manner she had been assigned too when the lady married her man. Now there names are not important for now. They will be called Mr. And Mrs. Bloomington for now. Mrs.Bloom had been Y/N’s Lady in waiting ever since they were both small. She use to be so nice and kind until one day she just wasn’t any longer, and overtime she started to out her hands on Y/N as warnings. And so Y/N did everything to prevent this from happening and so far it never even once happened.

As she scurried throughout the house to her lady she passed Mr. Bloom’s office. He looked happy as his eyes scammed through out the letter that was before him. She always did stay far away from Mr.Bloom since she had first saw him. Well that is when He first saw her. She was but only 19 and same with Mrs.bloom. She didn’t like how he was such a ladies man. So she paid no mind to him and his one hit wonder charms that were sdo see through. She wondered if this only drew him to her more. Which she had absolutely no intentions on doing. She wasn’t glad either when Mrs.Blooming decided to marry him, but she was happy and most of all kept her away from him. So she was at ease.

Once at Mrs.Blooming’s room she stood by her side.

“Yes my lady?”

“Help me with my dress and hair. I look as though i’ve been through some type of tornado.”

“I don’t think that way my lady. I think you look beautiful.”

Y/N picked up a brush and started on her hair first.

“Well no shit Y/N you are supposed to think that way what does your opinion matter?”

Y/N quietly sighed as she braided her lady’s hair and wrapped it into a bun. Fixing her dress next she zipped her up when she was done. Mrs. Blooming looked at herself happily in the mirror. This gave Y/N a chance to look at herself. While a lady in waiting was supposed to be dressed like their lady with at least some form of beautiful dress, jewls and what not. Mrs. Blooming saw this as a distraction to her beauty and forbiddeN from wearing such clothing. So Y/N wore a maids outfit instead. No jewels, no nothing. Just plain and simple. She could barely keep the thing looking brand new with all the tasks that Mrs. Bloom gave her. Only giving her Three dresses that looked the same and nothing more. Y/N had to buy her own shoes and own gloves. Anything that needed to be cleaned in the house she would have to buy on her own. Y/N though never did mind Mrs. Bloom’s harsh treatments and what not. Fore she knew that her dear best friend..Only friend. Was just in there somewhere. Right?

Just then Mr. Bloom swung the door open and looked happily to his wife.

“My darling get your finest wear and coat and jewels on as soon as possible we are going to the Top! HahA!”

“What on Earth are you on about?”

“I mean that very soon we will be taking a trip to one of the finest man in London’s house ! Adam !”

“You mean The’ Adam and Eve? How in the bloody hell did you get them to invite us you don’t own any instruments. You’ve never even played.”

“I haven’t played yet I do know a very great friend of mine that is amazing at making the most beautiful violins and I was thinking on making a business selling them! We are to meet them today and discuss over things. While us men talk you women will have your own conversations and what not. I suggest that you do your best to be on your behavior dear. I will not and I repeat not have you embarrass me!”

Mr. Bloom’s voice boomed as he walked out of the room.

“So get dressed now while I go out and get us a carriage!.”

While Mrs. Bloom was both quite excited Y/N knew that her husband’s words stung her. She could tell that there were multiple questions all in her mind going on and on. Things like if she were pretty enough , slim enough, was she an embarrassment to her dearest? She knew because Mrs. Bloom would make a face at herself in the mirror whenever she started to unfairly critique on herself. Y/N never would understand what she saw in such a man like that. Yet she said nothing and helped her lady into a brand new dress and all. Once she was done with her she hurried to scramble up a good dress to look at least half decent. She only hear many wives tales on how great the famous pare were. How beautiful they both looked and how much of a gentleman Sir Adam was. Y/N was never one to really care too much on looks so when she heard that they were awfully nice she smirked at the thought of working for them instead of the Bloomings. Or at least if the Bloomings were more like them. Putting her hair into a bun and wrapping her hair into a frilly cloth bun she made sure that it was known that she was no more than a servant to the lady only. She didn’t like to dress like this when company came over but Knew the consequences if she didn’t. Not to mention that all she had were maids dresses she adapted with all her might.

The ride there seemed like forever as they got further and further away from there spot in london. The carriage ride seemed a little bumpy but after a few heinous hours later of the god forsaken bumpy road they finally all arrived there in once peace. Y/N and both her lady looked out at the tower of a house and both of their jaws went straight to the floor. Y/N understood that he was a musician of some sorts but never truly understood how great that he was. The house wasn’t ginormous but at the same time it wasn’t some small ordinary victorian home either. Outside of the house there was a maid and a butler. The sweet looking maiden had a bright smile on her face that could light up the world if she dared to. Her hair was ginger and she wore the same outfit at Y/N but looking closer as they all got out of the carige and saw that the dress had little black designs in the sleeves and the skirt. The butler on the other had just had a basic plain suit that clung to his body snug but not at the same time. Propper with a smile was the fellow and his hair was just a tab bit reseating. Yet it really wasn’t important. IF anything it kinda suited him and made him look marute.

“Welcome my good sir, my name is luther. I am the butler of the manner and will be helping you and your college today.. Sir Adam and your other friend are both inside. Please follow me to his office.”

As Luther led the way this left Y/N and Mrs. Bloom to stand there in front of the small maiden.

As she held the sides of her dress she bowed into a curtsy.

“Good day MY lady and maiden. My name is sarah and I am here to bring you both to my wonderful Lady of the house Eve.”

Her voice was sweet as a kittens. If sweet had a picture in the dictionary she would win hands down Y/N was why she was their maid and why they kept her around.

While walking to wherever Sarah was taking the women Y/N felt so out of place as she looked all around her and saw such beautiful and neat decorations and colors all around. If the colors weren’t black white or dark chocolate, they would be black,gold, and white or red, gold and white. It all just looked absolutely beautiful. She especially couldn’t stop looking at the many beautiful chandeliers and candle glow. They all put out a soft and welcoming smell along with there warmth made the scene look so beautiful. Was Y/N in some sort of heaven for a brief moment? While Y/N thought that it was too perfect to be true Mrs.bloom didn't really like the house at all. She thought that it was all creepy dark and the smell was rather not strong enough. The faint sweet smell annoyed her to no end. She wondered maybe if her husband liked this or not. ‘Hopefully not’ She thought. She also looked around and saw that there were huge thick velvet curtains that painted each and every window.

“Why have so many windows and yet not open them? There beautiful and why cover them up with such thick curtains?”

“My Lady and sir both have sun allergies that can be very survivor. So we never open the curtains .”

Y/N took in this information while Mrs.Bloom rolled her eyes. Finally getting to the room sarah opens it up and the room seemed like a cozy library. The walls were a cream color with royal print of them or something. A few of the walls were covered from head to toe with books on bookshelf and a ladder that was set on top of or near the tall bookshelf. The fire roared lightly and made a shadow for the person sitting in front of it. Y/N turned her head to see the most beautiful woman that she had ever laid her eyes on. She thought that it was just some appreciation for the beautiful woman but that was until Eve made the choice to look straight to the people who were now walking into the room. Her face was sunken input as her hair fell and clung to her bare neck and collar bones. There was a braided bun in her hair and a couple of pears that clung to it as well. She put down her book that she was in and walked towards the tiny group.

“Good Evening Ladies. My name is Eve how did you do.”

“Splendid and full of joy now that I have meet you.”

“And I the same to you. And just might who you be sweet one?”

Eve looked down to Y/N. The action was just simple as breathing right?. Well why didn’t Eve feel that way about it? Cause when she looked to the maiden in the torn up dress she somehow forgot to breathe. Looking her slowly up and not missing a single area of cover and both uncovered skin. She was beautiful in her eyes and she barely even knew her name. So as she finally got to her lips that looked as soft as cotton candy, Y/N spoke her name and Eve looked to her bright eyes. She was jealous of how the light danced off of them. How it danced off on all of her beautiful skin. Had her heart just skipped a beat? What was this feeling and just why was she feeling this? The only time that she felt such a feeling was when she met Adam.’Impossible’ She thought. Snapping out of her head space as soon as sarrah called her name. Y/N though she was just seeing things when she noticed that Eve was not only sizing her up but then blushed.

“Ah! Do forgive me. My head seemed to be somewhere else at that moment. Please come in and sit. Sarrah, Please take Y/N here, and run her a bath. Make sure she gets new clothes. I hate to see her in those rags. Looks so uncomfortable really. And sweet things don’t need to be in such ruley clothing.”

Eve’s flirtation did not go unnoticed and it was Y/N’s turn to blush like a mad man.

“Yes my lady. Please walk with me.”

Sarrah took Y/N’s hand and lead her the very way to the bathroom. As she was about to take her to the maiden’s bathroom. She also didn’t see Eve’s fleurtations unnoticed. Sarah didn't mind the thought of something like like for some odd reason. She thought she had seen many stranger things with both Adam and Eve. But love was never one of them. So she led Y/N to the master bathroom and ran her some water.

“I don’t think that we will be staying that long Eve, your honestly too kind to us-.”

“Tell me, where in the world did you find a girl like that?”

“Ah.. well, her family worked for my family and if i am to be honest with you. They abandoned her and left her with heaps of debt. So she was sent to be my maid to pay off what they left behind. Honestly isn’t that disgusting?”

“Very, Why would someone ever leave someone so precious seeming?”

“Oh no, I mean her. She's lucky really that I took her in and my family didn't send her off somewhere. Thing didn’t even know how to read or write. But that’s no problem with girls like us. Born from riches.”

Mrs.Blooming smilled at Eve but Eve didn’t smile back.

“Yes..Well in change of words how is your husband’s business?”

“Oh I don’t get into those things. Women have no role in such a thing, I was even rather shocked that you had books in this manner that you read. I find it to be such a bore.”

Eve knew that this conversation would only lead her to a headache she couldn’t cure. This woman was beyond frustration her and she needed to get away somehow and some way yet nothing was coming to mind yet. Eve sighed but as she inhaled a gust of wind she smelled such an intoxicating smell. A smell that almost put her in a frenzy. Fangs and all were out as she let her mouth hand open as it salivated at the lustful essence. But who did it belong to?

“Eve? Are you alright? You sure do have long teeth.”

Eve shook her head and smiled at her when she calmed down enough.

“Ah yes I indeed am but um I think that I’m gonna get sarrah to fetch us some snacks to eat and drinks.”

Eve got up from her chair and walked over to the door slowly

“You don’t have any other maids in this huge manner?”

“No.”

With that Eve left the room and closed the door behind her. She felt as though the world had been lifted off her shoulders as she ceased to talk with Mrs.bloom any longer. The most important part was to find out just who had that sinful sent. She looked like she was out on the hunt as she walked around her manner getting closer and closer to the sent. As she did it made her swoon more and more. Making Eve’s movements sloppy. She forgot the last time that she had the last taste of wine. Yet this one was sweet and so soft. Not only did she taste wine but wine with blueberries? She felt her skin ignite as the heat of the bathroom was seeping out into the hall along with the Evanescence. Eve finally got to the master bathroom seeing that it was cracked. The beautiful thing about the house that the lovers always adored was the fact that no smell no sound could be heard from the sealed walls. If someone wanted to ease drop they would have to hope that the door was open. This was the best when they needed there most private moments to stay just that. Walking up to the door she peaked her eye through the slit of the door and there the sweet maiden was just washing up. Her body looked like a goddess in her counters as the steam rised from her skin and was sent all around the bathroom. Eve could stare at the scene all day long. The problem was that she was just rinsing off. Her hair was not wet so it wouldn’t take long before she were to get her clothes on.

Eve watched still as she dried her skin but looked around the bathroom for something.

“Oh no she left them outside!”

The maiden whispered to herself

Eve looked down and saw the clothes halfway under her dress. So when she panicked when Y/N turned her head. Quickly she clung to the side of the door as She felt it open and saw a cute hand reach out of the clothes. She had on a cover up so that her body would not be shown but she didn’t want anyone to even maybe see her so she only had the door cracked as she desperately reached for her clothes. Eve looked over and held back a giggle. Deciding to not be a coward anymore she came out from her hiding spot and handed IN her clothing.

“I can bet that these are yours sweet one?”

Y/N blushed hardcore and looked away as she slowly placed her hands on the clothes. To gently take them off of Eve’s

“Y-yes thank you, Lady Eve. Your too kind to me.”

Eve might have made the gravest mistake as she touched the top of Y/N’s hand. The scent was enough to make her faint. Now that she felt how soft, smooth, and warm her skin was it almost made her moan out in pure pleasure. Why her? Why must she have these feelings for one mortal when she had Adam? Yet it couldn’t be just Eve who found the smell of the little mortal deadly. No. Eve knew her husband like no other. She just didn’t know if he was about to go off the edge like she was or not. Eve nodded to her new found crush and stood up. She tried to reach out to feel the touch of her face but sarrah called her name down the hall. Eve looked to the halls then back at Y/N. Her little one stood there just staring at Eve with eye she had never once witnessed. Her eyes held something within them but tried so hard to tell a story to Eve. Was she stunned, horrified, embarrassed? Whatever it was Eve didn’t have time to really indulge into her as she so desired to. Y/N had no clue as to what just happened. There she stood as Eve slipped away from her with a smile. She for some reason wanted to reach out for her and to pull her back. A complete stranger..and yet she seemed so simple. So easy to just fall into trust with. An open soul with so much love to share...Y/N snapped out of this trance and hypnotized state to quickly put on her clothes and rush to her Lady.

When she got her dress and shoes on she walked quietly through the manner looking more at how beautiful it all was. She spun all around in her dress taking in every art, sculpture and wood carving. It saddened her though to think that this visit to heaven would come to such an end. She continued on her own little tour and came to a room where the door was only slightly cracked. She thought it was the room where they all were since it had the same door only to hear the most beautiful playing. Strumming from a violin. Peaking through she saw a very tall man who looked lean but not skinny. His hair was put back neatly into a low ponytail. He wore all black as he played a song so bittersweet she thought she might cry. As if the man knew her and strummed out her feelings in the mists of his playing. Once he stopped he looked at whoever was in the room with him.

“And you say that there are indeed others like these? That can be made like these?”

“Yes of course. Yet we would need help if you want such instruments to be in fact made.”

“I see..Well, I must think about this a bit more.”

“That’s the thing sir. We need the money now and think that with your kind of name with us that money will come in with eais.”

The looked back at the people who were in the room offended

“Fast money? So that’s what this is all about?”

“Please Sir, Adam. You must understand that we mean no ill about this. My partner had hard time wording it correctly.”

Y/N held in a gasp. ‘That’s Adam?! He does for sure look amazing in all his attire. While Eve wore all white Adam wore all black as though they were always getting married. Y/N smiled at this thought and continued to stare at Adam. There’s that feeling again. The same feeling that she had for Eve was coiling up inside her for Adam. His whole stature showed that he meant business and didn’t quite well appreciate the man who Y/N took as Mr.Bloom’s friend’s words. Disgusted was more so the right word.

“No, I’m very certain that he said what he meant cause of not then he wouldn’t have stated such. I do not create, play, and show off my music for the pathetic fame or more money. I have quite enough of that to last me a lifetime if you have not seen gentlemen! I take it to grave offence when a man says to me that he would like to make me more money for something that should be enjoyed freely. Now if you are so desperate to make such a deal with me then you will wait for my choice further on the matter. Until then, I suggest that you leave me be.”

“We have something else though to talk with you about sir.”

Y/N could have stayed there forever as she overheard the men talk. Yet most of all she could watch him yell and assert his dominance over people like Mr. Bloom and his sleazy partner. Any friend that Mr. bloom had though made a bad taste in Y/N’s mouth. None of them were true good men just like Mrs. Bloom’s friends. All gossip and no bite. Hell even if they did bite they only would to the weaker ones.

Just then Y/N almost yelled when Adam looked straight to her. She covered her mouth and quickly ran to her Lady.

Getting to the right door she sighed and quickly opened the door to see the beautiful Eve again. Eve did a double take and gasped slightly. She was amazed by how beautiful Y/N looked even though she wore the same dress as Sarrah. Sarrah just smiled and took Y/N’s hand in hers. Eve saw this and got a little jealous. She was shocked by this since she only had a couple of words with Y/N and a very intoxicating encounter. Things only seemed to get stranger today. Mrs. Blooming was the only one unhappy. She looked disapproved at Y/N’s new look.

“What on earth are you smiling about? Being a servant?”

Y/N’s smile left her face and reality hit her over the head with a hard brick. She looked to the floor and apologized to Mrs. Blooming. Eve didn’t like this at all. Mrs. Blooming pointed to the large tray of food that was set on the couch by Sarah.

“If you so happy then why don’t you fetch us some tea for our food?”

“I don’t know this house though my lady.”

“Sarrah will show you the way Love. Sarrah?”

Eve gestured her hand towards Y/N and they both left for the second time. Mrs. Blooming just wanted Y/N out of her sight. ‘No attention should be put app on when someone is so low ranking as a maid. Ugh, disgusting thing that girl is.’

As the girls were talking with each other they found that they were both orphans left in the wind. While how they came to be said is different they still had fun bonding and just sharing experiences with one another. Yet sarrah had to ask. “If we have such a similar backstory then why in the world do you have a Lady like that? You got the worst of the worst.”

“Mrs. Blooming can be quite cruel..Yet she’s the only friend that I have ever had, We have a really deep history together that cannot be broken. She was well..in a way my first love. Only ! in a friendship way though. I loved her like we were siblings.”

“How do you feel about her now?”

Y/N paused for a bit.

“I know she’s abusive..Yet when I look into her eyes all that comes to me is just breath and be there for her. Just be there. Nothing else. Somewhere deep down I do think that she could change if she tried and got away from her husband. He’s part of the problem I think. If she were nicer things wouldn’t be so hard.”

“Alright but i have another question.”

“Yes?”

“What if you just stay here?”

Another dead silent moment comes about until like a rock that goes through glass the silence was broken by a loud screaming. The girls both looked at each other and ran to the room where they left Eve and Mrs. Blooming. Ripping the door open and as soon as Y/N set down the tea set she saw a Mrs.Bloom jump onto her and started to attack her out of nowhere. Screaming and shouting at her Lady nothing would sacrifice she was relentless and kept on hitting her. Once she was on top of Y/N she would never let go, even when sarrah tried to pull her off.

“MADELINE PLEASE STOP!!!”

That. Her name was the only word that could make her snap back to reality and stand from above her. A loud slap filled the air once more yet it was not Y/N who had gotten hit. No, in fact it was Mrs. Blooming by her husband. She fell to the floor and looked up pissed at him. The whole ordeal was more than frightening for both of the girls. Sarrah was quick to help Y/N up and have her sit on one of the couches in the room. The fireplace made the scene look as though it was some sort of terrifying monster towing over Mrs. Bloomington, and a monster indeed he was.

“What did I tell you before we got in this household bitch?”

He snarled through his teeth even having some spit come out from his face

“SHE’S MINE! SHE’S NEVER GOING TO BE FOR SALE SHE’S MY FORM OF ENTERTAINMENT AND NO ONE CAN TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME! NOT YOU NOT THAT PATHETIC MAN OF THAT HIDEOUS CUNT NOONE!! I DESERVE THE GOOD LIFE ME! I’M THE BEAUTIFUL ONE!! THAT GIRL WAS MEANT FOR THE WHORE HOUSES!”

“Who, who are you talking about?”

Y/N rose from her feet. Mrs. Bloom turned to her. Her hair was all in dissoray from when she had attacked her. There was a mark on Y/N’s face and her lip was busted.

“What are you on about Madeline?”

“You. Are nothing. Your worth no more then a wore. I’m disgusted just looking at you!!”

“You don’t mean that.”

“OH MY GOD! Your so fucking stupid of a girl. I have never liked you since the very day that we meet! I just wanted you around to entertain me and to see you be miserable! When will you lean that no one will ever love you! Your wound mother didn’t even want you!”

“AAAAAAHHHH!”

Y/N screamed and attacked Mrs. Blooming this time. The fight was more than chaotic. Mr. Bloom snatched her off of Mrs. Bloom to fling her to the ground and stomped on her spine as she tried to get up. Y/N had let the Bloomington's degrade, harm, and verbally abuse her from the beginning. If this was to be the end that they were to see each other she pulled tried her to sit up, enough so that when Mr. Bloom would would be wanting to stop again on her spine she rolled turned and crawled away from him. She looked bat to Mrs. Bloomington.

“You are a disgusting,evil,and cruel woman. If you did not feel a friendship between us, the love , whatever kind of fucked up respect you had for me wasn’t real. If you really did just have me for entertainment. Then leave. For GOOD MADELINE!! I hate you! I hope that your so happy when you find that the only person who really ever loved you is gone and will never come back! I quit!”

“No need, you'll stay here.. For good. Here.”

Eve thru the check book down at Mrs. Blooming and stepped over her not even giving an ounce of a glance at the evil couples. She simply went over to Y/N and held her cheek softly. Her cold fingers felt so nice on Y/N’s face. She leaned into her palm as Eve slowly turned around to now finally face the couples.

“Now get the fuck out of my house. You both reek of something awful .”

The last thing IN saw before passing out from all that was happening so fast. Everything that was all wrong. That day Y/N had lost a friend. A loved one. Now gone and no more. She was no longer her friend. She was just like her husband. More than a monster that belong in the bowels of hell. Before she fell into a sleep state she said goodbye to her old friend.

#olla #ollaadam #ollaeve #olla adam #olla eve #tom hiddleston #tilda swinton #only lovers left alive #eve x reader x adam #adam x reader #eve x reader #long reads

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stressedspidergirlsfandomblog · 5 years

Text

Pt 13?

(14? I tried searching to make a master post but apparently I can't.)

Eventually the group disperses. Keith has plans with Shiro, which will end at the Garrison with the others. Shiro hasn't really gone back or inside since his discharge. Sure he meets Curtis there, but he waits outside. Its just not something he's felt ready for. It'll be bittersweet.

Shiro curls into Curtis, he'll be leaving soon, meet Keith at his place.

"Was that so bad?" Curtis teases, stroking Shiro's hair. He's pretty sure that Shiro would have happily spent the night curled up with his old teammates. He knows Shiro enjoyed the affection. Hugs and pats on the back, shoulder squeezes.

"You need to go meet Keith," Curtis kisses him.

"Mhm," he agrees, kissing back. Feeling Curtis put both hands on his chest, he sighs. He did get to spend the night. Sighing and getting up, at least his shoulder doesn't burn. He hadn't realized. He's so used to being uncomfortable he frequently doesn't notice something hurts until it stops.

Then again he's in far less life or death situations where he has to focus on the fight, maybe he can start listening to his body again.

Getting home Keith is waiting outside.

"You could've gone in," Shiro frowns.

"It's nice out. I've been inside a ship for a while. I don't mind being out in the air some."

"If you need to-"

"Stop, Shiro. You're my brother, and I love you. So can you stop trying to deflect?"

"Can we do this inside?"

"Yeah."

They head up, Shiro surprised when Keith puts an arm around him on the stairs. There's lifts but Shiro has had issues with those ever since... Stairs are better. Less easy to trap someone on stairs. Not to mention he'll stay fitter if he walks.

Pressing in the code, he slips in with Keith, palming the light pad.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"What? No, Shiro we just left after eating and drinking a bunch." Keith's never had much patience for the social niceties. Shiro ignores him and pours himself a glass of water.

"Suit yourself."

Keith looks around the room, then at Shiro, jaw slack. "Where the quiznak is all your stuff?"

"Uh. No one knows what Adam did with it," he shrugs, swirling the water in his cup just for something to do with his hand. And so he has an excuse not to look at Keith. "Iverson thinks it was in storage... And as you know most of the Garrison storage facilities were destroyed."

"Shiro," Keith says helplessly. "Nothing? You don't even have a plant in here..." He looks around again in case he's wrong. The room is... Spartan. Sterile, even.

One couch. Small coffee table. Mounted screen. Doesn't look like it's used, but there's no dust.

Going into the bathroom, there's a toothbrush. Toothpaste. Same plain white towels the Garrison has, and the shower curtain is plain white, too. Pushing it open, there's a bottle of some kind of combination body/shampoo crap. Shiro wasn't horribly vain before, but he'd had the works. Plus it had been somewhat nice stuff, not off brand whatever this is.

Opening the medicine cabinet, theres a razor, no medicine, and some mouth wash and floss.

Heading back out, "Quiznak. Not even the blade lives this spartan Shiro, what's going on? You're between jobs so you have time to go shopping. And decorate."

(To be continued? Comment if you want more?)

#curo #shurtis #curtashi #takashi shirogane #curtis #voltron #my fic

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nyangibun · 6 years

Note

If “nobody likes the Targs” as you claim, how did Dany make alliances w/ the Greyjoys (they sought her out), Highgarden, Dorne, Jon Snow, Tyrion, etc? Your statement is patently false. Also, please stop linking Dany to colonialism. I’m a POC too and you do a discredit and take legitimacy away from real, historical colonialism when you throw it around all for the sake of shipping wars. Last I checked Dany isn’t stealing resources from an indigenous community or enslaving/oppressing people.

Wow, okay… where to begin…

The Greyjoys were opportunists. Yara knew that she didn’t have enough men behind her to win against her uncle. She wanted the Iron Islands for herself but if she went head to head with her uncle, she would’ve lost. Going to Danerice was a political move. She aligned herself with Danerice’s cause in exchange for control of the Iron Islands. That was literally said in the show. Yara didn’t go to Danerice because of her ‘good heart’ or any such thing like that.

D: You’ve brought us 100 ships from the Iron Fleet with men to sail them.In return, I expect you want me to support your claim to the throne of the Iron Islands? …..D: And you don’t want the Seven Kingdoms? T: Your ancestors defeated ours and took the Iron Islands.We ask you to give them back. D: And that’s all? Y: We’d like you to help us murder an uncle or two who don’t think a woman’s fit to rule.

Highgarden… Olenna Tyrell aligned with Danerice not because she gave a shit about who sat on the Iron Throne. She wanted revenge, plain and simple. Cersei had just massacred her entire family. Olenna had nothing left to lose. She doesn’t care about the state of Westeros. She wanted to take Cersei down. That was also literally said in the show. Olenna doesn’t give two shits about what kind of ruler Danerice is. She wanted her to rain fire and blood on Cersei.

D: I realize you’re here out of hatred for Cersei and not love for me.But I swear to you, she will pay for what she’s done.And we will bring peace back to Westeros. O: Peace? Do you think that’s what we had under your father? Or his father? Or his? Peace never lasts, my dear.Will you take a bit of advice from an old woman? He’s a clever man, your Hand.I’ve known a great many clever men.I’ve outlived them all.You know why? I ignored them.The lords of Westeros are sheep.Are you a sheep? No.You’re a dragon.Be a dragon.

Dorne… Again, Ellaria Sand and her daughters chose an alliance with Danerice because they wanted revenge against Cersei. The Lannisters killed Oberyn Martell, Ellaria’s lover and the Sands’ father. They couldn’t care less what kind of ruler Danerice was, so long as she helped them exact their revenge on Cersei and the Lannisters.

Jon Snow… He came to Danerice for an alliance not because he knew who she was or what she was. She was the lesser of two evils and he desperately needed men to help him with the war in the North. He doesn’t care who sits on the Iron Throne at this point. That’s a non-issue for him, as none of it would matter if the Night King and his army breach the Wall. That’s his main priority. But the North isn’t going to back Jon up when they find out he bent the knee to Danerice because like I said in my previous post, the North hates the Targaryens. That was also literally said in canon by several members of the Northern households. Many of them were alive during Aerys’ reign and they don’t want another Targ on the throne.

S: Have you forgotten what happened to our grandfather? The Mad King invited him to King’s Landing - and roasted him alive.….R: Your Grace, with respect, I must agree with Lady Sansa. I remember the Mad King all too well. A Targaryen cannot be trusted.

Tyrion… well, he’s neither a ruler or head of his house. He represents himself only, so he has no real weight in swaying the populous. However, it’s interesting to note that even as a faithful servant to Danerice and an adamant preacher of her ‘good heart’, he still looked horrified at what Danerice did during the Loot Train Attack, disagreed with her burning of the Tarly’s and had a conversation with Varys about how to control Danerice’s more violent impulses. That’s literally canon. He’s been worried from the very start about making sure Danerice doesn’t do anything to invite ire from the people because even he knows that the Westerosi population dislike the Targaryens.

T: But we won’t use Dothraki and Unsullied. Cersei will try to rally the lords of Westeros by appealing to their loyalty, their love for their country. If we besiege the city with foreigners, we prove her point. Our army should be Westerosi.

T: All rulers demand that people bend the knee. It’s why they’re rulers. She gave Tarley a choice. A man who had taken up arms against her. What else could she do?V: Not burn him alive alongside his son.T: I am her hand, not her head. I can’t make her decisions for her.V: That’s what I used to tell myself about her father. I found the traitors but I wasn’t the one burning them alive. I was only a purveyor of information. It’s what I told myself when I watched them beg for mercy, “I’m not the one doing it.” As the pitch of their screams rose higher, “I’m not the one doing it.” When their hair caught fire and the smell of the burning flesh filled the Throne Room, “I’m not the one doing it.”T: Daenerys is not her father.V: And she never will be… with the right counsel. You need to find a way to make her listen.

This is all canon, so there. I even painstakingly found quotes for you in case you refused to believe me.

As for this:

“Your statement is patently false. Also, please stop linking Dany to colonialism. I’m a POC too and you do a discredit and take legitimacy away from real, historical colonialism when you throw it around all for the sake of shipping wars. Last I checked D isn’t stealing resources from an indigenous community or enslaving/oppressing people.”

Just because you’re also a POC doesn’t mean you get to talk over another POC. That’s now how it works. Our experiences vastly differ based on our respective ethnicities, backgrounds, cultural identities and race. Not all POCs are the same and experience the same issues. There are things I don’t know and will never know about and likewise, there are things you might not know about as well. By talking over each other and refusing to listen, you do more harm than good.

But let’s talk about real and historical colonialism then. Do you know the poem, ‘White Man’s Burden’ by Rudyard Kipling? Do you know its meaning? It was written to urge the United States to colonise the Philippines. It was used a reasoning for why they should, as it was the ‘white man’s burden’ to go into these countries and essentially govern them because the natives weren’t educated or advanced enough to do it themselves. It was the racist notion of ‘othering’ non-white nations and justifying their own greed and desire for land, resources, and power. This notion that white colonists were benevolent parents to non-white races was prevalent throughout the colonial era, which has evolved in more subtle manifestations in today’s society, ie. the ‘white saviour’ trope so often found in literature and movies/tv shows.

The ‘white saviour’ trope is the depiction of a white character going into a foreign country in order to save them from their evil oppressors, who also happen to be non-white and from said country. It’s the idea that only a white man/woman can save them from themselves (ie. ‘The Last Samurai’ with Tom Cruise or ‘Blood Diamond’ with Leonardo Dicaprio).

How does this pertain to Danerice? Well…

youtube

She frees the slaves and is then heralded above them. Her white skin and pretty blue dress stands in stark contrast to the brown skin and brown rags of the people. They worship her and call her their ‘mhysa’. How does this not make you uncomfortable? She is their white saviour. She is called their ‘mother’, which is a rhetoric often used by white colonialists in a way to infantilise the native people they controlled. They saw themselves as the benevolent parents; they knew better so they could do whatever they wanted. That was basically the mantra of white colonialists.

Who else embodies that?

She freed the slave-soldiers of Astapor (the Unsullied) but kept them in her employment. They’re not ‘free’; they just have a different, less cruel master. She freed the slaves of Yunkai but left the city in complete dishevel that as soon as she left, they were once again enslaved. She freed the slaves of Meereen but destroyed their entire economy so extensively that the freed slaves wanted to sell themselves back into slavery just so they could have food. They even begin rioting, saying ‘mhysa is master’.

You said:

“Last I checked D isn’t stealing resources from an indigenous community or enslaving/oppressing people.”

But she is. She took ships and soldiers to help her achieve her ultimate goal of getting the Iron Throne. She burnt men in order to enact her justice without a fair trial even though at least one of them was innocent. She forced the former masters to work for her. In Westeros, she had to be stopped from burning the Red Keep, which isn’t just where Cersei lives but also civilians. She burnt all of the food during the Loot Train Attack, condemning thousands to starvation in the long Winter for no other reason. My point is Danerice may have had or still has, to some degree, good intentions for the people, but she is essentially still a master/conqueror/colonialist. It’s her justice or burn and die.

Not to mention, the Targaryens were colonialists/conquerors. The first Targaryen ruler was literally named Aegon the Conqueror. When the Valyrian Freehold fell, Aegon took his dragons to the Seven Kingdoms and conquered it with fire and blood. He demanded people yield to him or die. He killed millions of people in order to gain power. This was not his homeland. Westeros is not a Targaryen’s home. It does not belong to them.

It’d be like saying just because the British Empire once colonised India, they’re now allowed to come back and violently take it back on account of the fact that they once ruled it for however many years. Wouldn’t you say that was a horrible reason and that the British Empire has no power over India because it was never theirs to begin with? What’s the difference then between Danerice trying to claim Westeros as hers despite not having grown up there or even knowing anything about the culture and politics and that example?

Now, you also brought in shipping, but I want to know how shipping has literally anything to do with anything I just said or what I said in that post you’re referring to? I never once mentioned shipping yet you did. Why? What does my shipping preferences matter in this discussion? Am I not allowed to have an opinion just because I prefer one ship over another? Are my words suddenly invalid because you have a different ship from mine? Is that not extremely and utterly closeminded of you? I respect your right to ship what you want, as you should respect mine. I respect your right to disagree with everything I said, as you should respect my right to these opinions without coming into my ask and being antagonistic about it. Don’t like my opinion? Scroll past. Simple as.

#anti daenerys #Anonymous #long post

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