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serpentandlily · 5 months

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Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Reader

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: use of the nickname bunny

Based on THIS request.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

Gods, you were going to be in so much trouble. You kept your fast pace as you walked through the woods, keeping your eye out for anything, anything, that might help you. The only reason you even knew where you were was the red and golden leaves adorning the trees, the scent of cinnamon and rain hanging in the crisp air. Autumn. You were in the Autumn Court.

You had just been practicing winnowing with Rhys, your brother-in-law. Since the war ended, the Inner Circle was finally spending more time helping you learn your magic. You had wanted to learn, to do more, ever since you had been turned fae, tossed in the cauldron like your sisters.

But being the youngest meant also having to take a back seat sometimes. Feyre and Nesta never let you do anything. Never let you help in any way. Not much changed after you had been turned fae.

The sound of dogs howling made you pause in your tracks. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. They could be farm dogs, it could mean that someone was nearby, someone who could help you.

But you knew of the type of fae in the Autumn Court and it could also be someone who’d try to hurt you. You bit your lip, finally deciding to make a run for it as the howling got closer.

You took off down a line of trees, pushing yourself to run as fast as you could to create some distance between you and the pack of dogs. But a few stumbles over fallen branches and you could hear the pounding of their paws not far behind you.

A bark had you looking over your shoulder, cursing as you saw the hounds close behind. They yelped with excitement as they caught sight of you, picking up their pace.

Pain, awful, debilitating pain, rushed through your leg and you screamed, falling to the ground. You flipped yourself over to see your foot stuck in the claws of a bear trap, the metal prongs piercing through your skin. You cursed as you realized they must’ve been herding you here.

You let out another cry as you forced yourself to sit up and scoot closer to the trap. The dogs were still running at you and you desperately tried to yank the trap apart, to free your foot.

It was no use; the dogs were too fast. Faster than any dogs you’d ever encountered. You could do nothing but throw your arms over your face and scream, hoping someone would hear you before you were mauled to death by a pack of dogs.

To your utter shock, the feeling of teeth ripping into your flesh never came. You slowly put your arms down to see twelve hounds running in a circle around you, yapping and howling into the air. Each one gray and sleek like smoke.

Footsteps coming from behind you had you whipping around, eyes wide. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a male. A very handsome male with silky red hair, whiskey amber eyes, and pale skin. He was tall, lithe, but he had the top three buttons of his shirt undone, giving you a glimpse of the muscles beneath.

The cobalt coat he wore was finely crafted, along with his pants and shoes. The haughty expression on his face told you exactly who you were looking at—Eris, the Heir of Autumn.

You swallowed audibly as he smirked down at you, coming to a halt a few paces away.

“Well what do we have here?” His voice was smooth like silk and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You said nothing as he let out a sharp whistle and the hounds circling you halted before running to his side. They sat behind him like perfect little guards, their unusual eyes still on you. You looked back up at the male, who had just stumbled upon you, trapped. He walked around your form, much like his hounds had been doing.

You couldn’t find any words. Mostly because of the pain of the bear trap ripping through your shin and foot. But also because you had only really ever heard horror stories about Eris—about his cruelty and cunning nature.

Eris’s fox-like face smirked down at you in amusement. “My hounds seem to have herded a little bunny into one of my traps. Do you have a name, bunny?”

Should you tell him who you were? That you were one of the Archeron sisters, that you were from the Night Court? You knew briefly through listening in on Feyre’s conversations that they considered Eris an ally. But they also said he could hardly be trusted.

“Does the little bunny not have a voice?” Eris purred, still circling around you like a predator playing with its food. “Hm, let me guess. The golden brown hair and the big, brown doe eyes that look incredibly similar to my brother’s mate’s…Have I trapped an Archeron?”

You used the sleeve of your dress to wipe at the tear tracks on your cheeks. You tried to back away from him, but the movement only jostled your leg, causing a small whimper to escape your throat.

“I-I’m not sure how I ended up here, my Lord,” you mumbled. Gods, you felt pathetic. “Can you p-please help me?”

Eris tilted his head at you, in an animalistic way you still weren’t used to with the fae. He studied you for a moment before another smirk bloomed on his handsome fox-like face. He was picturesque with his disarming beauty.

“You see, I think this is all a bit unfair. You seem to know who I am, but you still haven’t told me your name, little bunny.” He knelt down next to you, reaching a gloved hand out to push some of your hair from your face.

It should’ve alarmed you, his closeness, the touch of his hand. But for some reason, it didn’t. You swallowed again, considering your options. Maybe he would help you get home.

“I’m one of Feyre’s sisters,” you managed to stutter out.

“Is that so?” He seemed to be enjoying this. “And what is the name of the bunny I’ve managed to trap?”

You mumbled your name out loud, glancing around the meadow you were in, at the hounds that were now all laying down, still staring at you. You blinked at them and the biggest one, the leader of the pack, stood suddenly. You kept your eyes trained on her as she marched over to you, shaking as you examined her large head, her jaw that could easily rip your throat out.

But to your surprise, she merely meandered over to you and brushed her head against yours, letting out a low whine. Your eyes widened, looking over at Eris for a second to see a flicker of shock cross his face. The hound let out a small yip before licking the side of your face, drawing out a surprised giggle from you. Was she trying to…comfort you?

“Ashera,” Eris said sternly with a snap of the fingers. But the hound merely glanced at him and then went back to nudging you with her fluffy head.

You raised a shaky hand and stroked her back, bewildered by the dog's behavior. She licked you up the side of your face again and Eris said her name a little louder this time, making her ears twitch. She whined at him but listened, going back to the other dogs.

“I didn’t know there was a fourth Archeron sister. Where have they been hiding you?” Eris asked, drawing your attention back to him. “And why?”

You shrugged your shoulders. Had they been hiding you? No one has ever mentioned keeping you a secret. “I-I don’t know.”

He waved a hand in the air, summoning a piece of parchment and pen. He quickly scribbled something on it before flicking it away. You watched it disappear with awe, still taken aback by the use of magic.

Eris seemed to remember you were still stuck. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on both sides of the trap. He paused to look at you. “Sorry, little bunny, but this is going to hurt.”

And then he pulled the trap apart with his bare hands. You let out a loud cry as the metal spikes were pulled out of your leg. You whimpered, pulling your knee to your chest as you examined the damage to your shin.

Blood was now gushing from the wounds that circled around your shin. You grabbed some of your skirt in your hand, intending to use it to put pressure on the wounds but Eris’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t do that,” he hissed. “Are you dumb? Your skirt is covered in dirt and mud. You’ll only infect it.”

Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He reached a hand towards you but now free from the trap, you scrambled away from him with a whimper. He let out an amused chuckle.

“No need to be frightened, little bunny,” he purred. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You looked at him warily as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dangling it in the air between the two of you. You swallowed audibly but didn’t move as he approached again and wrapped it around your ankle as a makeshift gauze.

He hummed, standing up and brushing invisible dirt from his pants. “Now, are you going to tell me why exactly an Archeron is in my court?”

“I was learning how to winnow. I-I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute I was in Velaris and then next, I was here.”

He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Interesting. Well, come on. Let’s get to Spring so someone can come retrieve you before you get yourself killed.”

Eris held at his gloved hand to you. You took it, letting him help you rise from the ground, trying to keep weight off your injured ankle. As soon as you were up, he winnowed the two of you away.

A moment later, you appeared on the border of Autumn and Spring. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for Eris grabbing you by the upper arm. You blushed, muttering a small thank you.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to walk the rest of the way so we don’t set off any wards that will alert my father,” Eris said, coolly.

He set off and you trailed after him, hobbling slowly because of your injury. You only made it a few paces before Eris turned around.

“Hurry it up, bunny, I don’t have all day.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry, it’s a little hard to walk considering my foot was just in a bear trap.”

Eris tsked, looking down at your ankle before his eyes trailed up your form. He let out a sigh and strided back to you. Before you could even figure out what he was doing, he grabbed you by the waist and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

You squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”

“Like I said, I don’t have all day,” Eris said, stalking off towards the border to Spring. You jostled on his shoulder with each step he took but he held you firmly with an arm around your thighs like you weighed absolutely nothing.

You pounded on his back with your fists. “Ugh, Let me down!”

“You even hit with the strength of a rabbit,” Eris laughed to himself, ignoring your attempts to free yourself from his hold.

“Jerk,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as you dangled there.

Eris just laughed again. You bickered with him all the way to a clearing where he finally came to a stop and put you down. You huffed, smoothing down your dress and hair as you glared up at him.

“You’re welcome,” he purred with an arrogant smile.

The shadows around the clearing seemed to move in a flurry and then a familiar face stepped out of the darkness.

“Get away from her,” Azriel growled at Eris.

Eris held his hands up, that smile never leaving his face as Azriel stalked towards you. His eyes narrowed as he sniffed, smelling the blood on you.

“Did he hurt you?” Azriel asked, his tone dark. He grabbed you by the arm and yanked you to his side, causing you to stumble.

Before you could even open your mouth, Eris cut in.

“Must you have such a low opinion of me, shadowsinger.” Eris wore that fox-like grin again. “I haven’t harmed a single hair on her head.”

Azriel looked to you, waiting for you to verify his story.

“He speaks the truth, Azriel,” you said, clutching your ankle. “I ran into a bear trap on my own. He helped me out of it and brought me here.”

“And why were you running?” Azriel tossed Eris a glare.

“His d-dogs scared me. But they’re friendly,” you replied, trying to ease the tension in the air.

Eris scoffed, as if no one had ever referred to his hounds as friendly before.

Azriel looked at you with exasperation. “Come on, let’s get you home. No need to linger here.” He glared at Eris one last time.

Before you could protest, he hoisted you up into his arms. You glanced at Eris one last time to see a moment of shock cross his face as he met your gaze.

“Thank you,” you called out as you gave him a small wave before you were swept away in the shadows.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You didn’t see Eris again for months. Not until Winter Solstice, when it had been decided that Nesta would try to intrigue him enough to keep him as a steady ally. When Elain had declared that she was going to join the Inner Circle in the Court of Nightmares, you had demanded to be taken as well, despite arguments from nearly everyone. But you were tired of being treated like a baby.

You had gotten your way in the end, after agreeing to strict orders to stay at the foot of the dais the entire time. It wasn’t ideal but it was something…better than staying home.

You were dressed in a black tulle, A-line gown. The bodice was sheer but adorned with lace appliques embedded with shining silver gems. It had a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder lace straps. It swept the floor with tulle and lace, pooling at your feet like dark water. It was beautiful, more girlish than the dress Nesta was wearing but not as plain as Elain’s modest, long-sleeved dress.

You stood at the bottom of the dais next to your sisters, between the two Illyrian warriors, as your sister addressed the crowd. Eris was standing next to Keir at the head of the gathered crowd, dressed in Night Court black himself. It was hard to deny how truly beautiful he was—especially with his striking red hair contrasting the black so well. You could feel his eyes on you from time to time but kept your gaze forward.

“May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you,” Feyre declared.

Keir was the first to approach with a low bow. “Allow me to extend my congratulations.”

“And allow me to extend mine as well, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.” Eris had stalked forward as well, giving your sister a pretty, cultivated smile. “He shall be thrilled by the news.”

“I’m sure he will.” Rhys kept his eyes trained on the Autumn Heir. “Music!”

An orchestra began playing and Feyre raised her voice and said, “Go—eat.”

The crowd slowly began to dissipate. Keir also disappeared as half the crowd began to dance seamlessly to the music.

“Before you join the merriment, Eris,” Rhys drawled. “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”

You tuned out the conversation, taking in the rest of the throne room. It was your first time here in Hewn City. It was as monstrous as expected. But beautiful still, in the dark way that screamed Night.

You tuned back into the conversation just as Feyre spoke, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.”

She looked at the three of you, as if deciding who she would offer to the Heir of Autumn even though it had already been decided. Elain gave a passable impression of appearing interested, as she had been directed to. Nesta just looked bored. Rhys and Feyre had given you no direction, claiming Eris would be tempted more by power and a wide-eyed, young girl, as they had called you, would not be of interest to him.

“My oldest sister shall take my place.”

But it was like Eris hadn’t heard Feyre speak as he stepped forward and stopped in front of you, not Nesta. You blinked at him, your brows raising with confusion as he extended his hand to you, an open invitation.

“I’ll take the little bunny,” Eris purred with that fox-like grin. He kept his amber eyes on you, not looking towards Feyre despite speaking to her. “If the Lady agrees, of course.”

“I-I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the dances, my Lord,” you said, politely, ignoring the hand outstretched to you as your cheeks turned red at the attention.

Eris didn’t back down. “That’s quite alright. I’ve been told I’m a good lead.”

You glanced at Feyre and Rhys, uncertain of what you were supposed to do. This wasn’t the plan. Eris was never supposed to take interest in you. You were a speck of dust compared to the power rolling off Nesta—power, the only thing he was supposed to care about.

You felt talons scrape your mind and let your sister in.

Just go with it for now. We’ll send in Azriel to take over before it goes too far.

You slipped your hand in Eris’s hold and let him escort you to the dance floor just as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began. You couldn’t wipe the wide-eyed look off your face as much as you tried to. You placed your free hand on his shoulder just as his broad hand slid around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

You blushed, somehow turning even more red than you already had been.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear just as the violins began their song.

“And so the fox ensnares the bunny again.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Stop calling me that.”

“Why?” he purred, beginning to lead you into the dance. “It just seems so fitting.”

“It’s not,” you grumbled, trying not to stumble over your own feet. You were lucky that this waltz was similar to the one from the human lands or else you would have surely embarrassed yourself already.

The pair of you finished your first rotation around the dance floor in silence but that smirk never seemed to leave Eris’s face to your annoyance. Flame simmered in his eyes, never leaving yours for a second. You felt something flutter in your chest.

“So,” Eris finally spoke. “Have your owners finally let you out of your cage?”

“I am not caged here,” you murmured. “Just because they don’t find you pleasant company, doesn’t mean I haven’t been allowed around others.”

You snapped your mouth shut, a brief wave of horror passing through you. You had just insulted him. You had just done the opposite of what was supposed to be happening tonight. But to your surprise, Eris just chuckled, not seeming offended at all.

“Do you find me unpleasant, Lady?”

“I remain undecided, my Lord,” you said. “Though everyone certainly has a lot to say about you.”

“What lies have they told you about me, sweetheart?” He twirled your around again, your skirt swishing in the air. A faint fluttering of butterflies grew in your stomach.

“What are these lies you speak of, my Lord?”

You tried to channel your sister but it came out so wrong. You didn’t sound as aloof as her. Nor as cold.

“Don’t try to play the game they want you to.” Eris’s smirk grew into a grin. “It does not suit you, bunny.”

“Maybe if you stopped playing games, I wouldn’t feel the need to as well,” you muttered with a frown. Eris’s grin sharpened.

You were failing at this task. Failing so profoundly that it was embarrassing. You hoped your family couldn’t hear this conversation.

“This is not a game to me, little bunny,” Eris purred, his grip around your waist tightening. “None of it is.”

“Your behavior seems to say otherwise. So does your reputation.”

“Do I not ally myself with this court under constant threat of being discovered and killed by my father? Do I not offer aid whenever Rhysand wishes?”

“That matters little to me, my Lord,” you said. “I am not a piece on this political chessboard you seem to have with Rhysand.”

“So what matters to you, Y/n?” Eris kept pace with the other dancers and you followed his lead as best as you could. “Tell me. I wish to know.”

Your hand slipped from his shoulder, down to his chest and right over his beating heart. “This. This is what matters to me. I would rather someone good of heart over someone with power.”

“How sweet,” Eris teased. “How naive.”

“Gods forbid someone be hopeful for the goodness of people to be the change in this world,” you bristled.

To your surprise, Eris merely smirked once again. “Goodness cannot exist amongst cruelty, sweetheart. Just as hope cannot exist under the burden of responsibility.”

You studied him closely. “Aren’t you tired of putting on a show, Eris? I have seen monsters. You do not seem like one of them.”

Eris yanked you closer and your heart began to pound in your chest. “Then I’d say you haven’t seen enough of the world and its monsters if you truly believe that, bunny.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Wide-eyed, fluffy tailed,” Eris listed off, his fox-like grin returning. “Still has hope that she can change the world. I have seen this story, sweetheart. I know how it ends. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to your safe, little burrow where you belong.”

A wave of anger crashed into you, your body heating up.

“You don’t get to tell me where I belong. No one does,” you huffed. “Especially not a jerk who doesn’t have dreams of his own and lets everyone else dictate who he is!”

Eris didn’t seem perturbed by your impassioned speech. If anything, his grin seemed to grow. You hadn’t even realized the song had ended and that the two of you had come to a halt on the edge of the dance floor, too lost in your anger.

“You’re just going to have to learn the hard way, sweetheart. You think having dreams and hope makes you something but it doesn’t. It can’t.” Your hand dropped from his chest as he brought the one he was holding up to his lips. “You are only ever going to be what others think you are.”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before letting it fall to your side.

“Sly fox.” He pointed to himself before turning his hand to you in a sweeping gesture. “Dumb bunny.”

“I am not a dumb bunny,” you growled.

“Right,” he drawled in a teasing manner that infuriated you. “And you are definitely not caged here, either.”

Your eyes widened as he strode away from you, disappearing in the crowd but not before he tossed one last remark over his shoulder, “I’ll catch you later, bunny.”

You stared at his back as a scarred hand landed on your shoulder with a firm grip, knocking you out of your stupor. You looked up at Azriel, at his cold, unreadable face that stared down at you.

“Come on,” he murmured. “I’ve been ordered to take you back home.”

And just like that, your night–and freedom—was over. Eris’s words and his stupidly handsome face haunted you the entire journey back to Velaris.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris x you #eris x y/n #autumn court #eris fanfic #eris imagine #acosf #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fic

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chaoticladyfire · 11 months

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Things I screamed about in ATSV (spoilers)

-Got to rewatch the film so I’m just going to add the colours changing to warmer tones when Gwen hugs her father. Not even ten minutes in and I was already crying.

-Realised that we missed the Gwen-Vulture fight BUT got to see Jessica Drew enter the scene like a bad ass in her bad ass bike and hearing the audience collectively say ‘me too’ when Gwen asked if Jessica could adopt her.

-Screaming OSCAR ISAAC when Miguel spoke

-Lyla. Just Lyla.

- ‘Do you say anything other than no?’ ‘No-YES!’ more of miguel and jessica pls

-The Spot’s introduction. I didn’t see any promotional stuff, teasers or even trailers before watching this film so I had no idea who or what the The Spot was which was great because he really went from villain of the week to villain of the movie. And they clearly had a great time choreographing the fight scenes with him

-Miles’ heating up the beef patty while the spot and the convenience store man argue

-Miles patting the spot’s with a ‘good cow’ text

-Gwen and Miles both having to deepen their voices to avoid being recognised by their respective cop dads

-Miles saying that he can get two cakes when the counsellor says you can’t have your cake and eat it too and then bringing two cakes for his father’s party and neither of them saying what he wanted to convey.

-Rio and Jeff scolding an annoyed miles but instantly smiling when a relative hugs them what an universal experience

-Gwen teasing Miles for drawing her in his notebook almost obsessively but also breaking the biggest rule to spend time with him knowing the consequences.

-As they went to talk, my friend leaned over and said ‘yeah I bet they will talk’ and when they only talked he groaned very loudly at which point I had to remind him Miles was only 15

-Watching Jeff talk to Spiderman about his son not knowing his son is spiderman

-The DJ increasing the volume when Miles’ parents started scolding him in the middle of the party (the real mvp of the movie actually)

-JK Simmons cameo that no one seems to be talking about??? Embarrassingly enough I had to literally scream into my friend’s ear for most of the people to realise it was indeed JK Simmons

-Just the entire Mumbattan scene. It was so exciting to see my city be represented like that, still a bit cliched in my opinion but not like Slumdog so obviously they have updated their views. Everything from the traffic gag to Pav’s rant about chai tea had the theatre howling. Also the detail of the thought boxes (?) and sounds being written in Hindi

-Screaming DANIEL KALUUYA

-My friend and I are huge fans of the UK punk scene (her for the ideologies and myself for the music and fashion) so Hobie was a dream come true. He was already super cool with his guitar and mohawk costume but when he revealed his face it was just so amazing

-Gayatri is every indian’s dream girl with her modern shirt-flannel and jeans combo mixed with bangles and piercings I really wish we get to see more of her in the next movie. Anyway there was a lot of wolf-whistling and hooting for her and Pav

-Also Pavitr literally means pure I don’t know if they did that on purpose or not but I love it

-His pet name being Pav cured my soul

-’This is the most emotional I have seen him’ and Captain Singh has no emotions at all

-I want to see how they came up with so many spider designs because each was so unique and immediately endearing. My friend who is also a big dinosaur fan screamed DINOSAUR

-Kind of obsessed with how detailed Ben Reilly’s arms are they did not need to go that hard with it

-Tom Holland’s Spider-Man being referred to as ‘the little nerd’ by Miguel

-When everyone was making puns about the Spot my friend leaned over and said ‘i wonder which hole the spot prefers’ it is a miracle we are still friends actually

-The Donald Grover cameo!!!

-Peter B Parker having a cute little baby with the love of his life is what he deserves

-Miguel O Hara is one step away from becoming a Batman-Spiderman

-Hobie’s admiration for Mayday being the avatar of chaos Spider-baby

-Screaming ANDY SAMBERG

-I think they saw the appreciation for the art style in the previous film and then trebled it for this film and I cannot thank them enough for it

-Peter complaining about how Miguel breaks the Spiderman tradition of being funny and witty and Miguel being the first anomaly

-Every scene with the Spot is very unnerving because as I said, you watch him transform from this joker to a literal void of vengeance and it is every bit of terrifying

-Miguel is a man suffering from the destruction of an entire universe because of his selfish actions and forcing that anomaly narrative on a fifteen year old boy who became a spiderman on accident and doesn’t want his father to die because of that. Unlike the Spot, who isn’t even human anymore, Miguel is drowning in grief and guilt and trying to ignore it by holding the weight of the spider-verse on his shoulder. I hated him so much for making a boy go through that but then I just couldn’t in the end.

-Andrew Garfield and Tobey Maguire cameo!!! Hopefully we’ll get a fun Tom Holland one too in the next movie.

-’Let me guess, he died?’ being a therapist for Spider Men must be a fairly boring job after a few patients.

-I just loved the absolute of wrongness of the scene where Miles returns ‘home’. The rain and darkness. I didn’t really think about Rio asking Miles what happened to his hair because I thought she was referring to the rain (although of course she wouldn’t ask him why his hair was wet when it was obviously raining outside) but realised something was wrong when he didn’t know about comic con but she did because in the first film there’s a joke about Peter B Parker explaining the concept to Miles.

- This movie is not good for my father related issues

-The glaring neon welcome sign when the gang end up in Earth 42

-How did Uncle Aaron get even scarier?

-Miles being the Prowler is honestly a great twist I saw it coming but still felt the shock of the reveal

-Prowler Miles having an accented voice meaning his father probably died when he was young and he only had his mom growing up

-Can’t wait for the original spider team to return for the third film seeing as they brought back Spider-Man Noir and Spider Ham and Peni Parker

-Screaming WHAT when the ‘to be continued’ appeared because that cliffhanger is absolutely destructive. All that adrenaline and excitement just popped. I’m still oscillating between being impressed and being disappointed.

I probably skipped over a lot of other scenes because these were the most memorable and I only watched the film once (unfortunate) but I can’t wait for the movie to hit streaming services and watch it again and again for all the other details I missed. Ill probably keep adding things as I remember

#across the spiderverse #atsv #miles morales #gwen stacy #hobie #pavitr #miguel o'hara #jessica drew #peter b parker #the ultimate spiderman #spiderman #spiderman noir #spider ham #rio morales #prowler

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bakubunny · 4 months

Note

you said you wouldn't post more werewolf!bakugo x bunny hybrid!reader, but i said no such thing ;)

( •̀ ω •́ )✧

werewolf!bakugo, who, every rut cycle, has to go "on a camping trip" to the woods. he normally leaves his pet bunny hybrid at home, sparing her the burden of having to deal with him. he doesn't want to scare her more than he already does. doesn't want his cute little bunny to fear for her life. and he knows there are instincts he has, more primal and hungry, that he might not be able to ignore if she comes along.

werewolf!bakugo, who makes one too many mistakes the next time his rut is coming. gets a little too snippy with his cute little bunny. makes her run away because he's yelling and snarling too much. he thinks, "good, i'll apologize when i come back and it's done". but he forgets to check the backseat of his truck. thinks the overwhelming smell of her in the car is just from all the rides she's taken with him there, amplified by his instincts.

werewolf!bakugo, who finally realizes his mistake when it's far too late to turn around. he shoves his poor little bunny in a room of her own in the cabin, tell her not to leave no matter what she hears, tells her to lock the door. it's a good thing he had at least some foresight, because there are latches lining the threshold.

bunny hybrid!reader, who's a good girl. she doesn't move a muscle. not even when she hears her master howling through the night in the adjacent room. not even when she hears the sound of chains — likely used to keep bakugo in place — rattling loud before they're ripped from the wall. not even when she hears the faux gentle knocks on her door followed by heavy pounding and demands to let her master in.

bunny hybrid!reader, who feels her heartrate increase when the door begins to rattle, shake, and splinter. she's shivering in fear (in anticipation?) when it all suddenly goes quiet. she can only hear the pounding of her heart, the rasp of her breath...

...and the window sliding open.

"ya forgot to lock this one, bunny"

a/n: i just came across a popular post where people were complaining abt too much bunny x werewolf stuff in general, so i guess if this somehow reaches that corner of the internet, this is my first real foray into this trope so don’t @ me for being in love with it ok?

eta: original werewolf kats post

neon’s gonna take me out with this istg fam. also we’re going to pretend for a moment that a ripped, 7ft+ werewolf can fit thru a window.

his voice sounded strange, lower and rougher than usual, hungry. you knew better than to ignore him.

“s-s-sorry, k-katsuki. i-i'm sorry,” you sputtered.

you weren’t sure what to expect as the whistle of the wind filtered in with the rumble of katsuki’s chest on his every breath. big, clawed hands pulled his massive frame through the window. you cowered and pulled into yourself as you sat on the bed he’d provided you with.

standing in front of you was a creature you didn’t recognize, one that looked more like a wolf on two legs, a human covered in ash blonde fur. he was at least two feet taller than you with patches of fur that were lighter on his chest and face. his teeth were bared as he snarled, nose scrunched along his muzzle. a growl stirred in his chest as he stared you down with crimson eyes. what was left of the binding on his wrists he’d tried to use to keep himself fell to the floor with a loud clunk. he stalked towards you, glare unwavering.

“p-please don’t be mad,” you said. "please don't h-"

katsuki’s fist flew towards your as he growled angrily, lips curled. he grabbed you by the face. you flinched, eyes shut tight. his grip was firm as one of his claws pressed painfully into your cheek, but you were unharmed.

sailva quickly built up around his bottom lip. a long, dark tongue dipped out to lick them. "don't you dare. i would never hurt ya. you should know that much by now."

your heart raced, a cold sweat on your skin as he stood there and watched you tremble in fear. instincts screamed at you to run, run, run. your stomach twisted into a tight knot of cramps from his scent; you couldn't pin it down but it was strong. but your brain, the last to follow, told you that katsuki was safe. so you froze.

“s-sorry, i’m sorry i didn’t know you - you-” your eyes scanned over his form again, terrifyingly strong and foreign.

“i know. i wasn’t gonna tell ya. but secret’s out now cause ya just had to sneak into the truck, didn’t ya? couldn’t just listen to me the first time like a good little bunny cause ya thought i was mad. what did you plan on doin’ once ya got here and i found out, huh? try n’ snuggle your way outta me bein’ all pissy like you usually do? ‘s a little different when ya don’t know what you’re gettin’ into, baby bun.”

katsuki studied your face as he licked his lips again, drooling by the time he did. “i know ya don’t get it all the time, but i’m tryin’ to keep ya safe. you’re lucky your first heat hasn’t hit yet… but-” he pushed his muzzle close to your neck and sniffed a little. his grip tightened painfully as he took in a deep breath and growled low in his chest.

“that’s about to change, ain’t it?”

@dcsiremc @zazter-den

#sorry for the cliffhanger #i couldn’t get past this without being too flustered #this is cringy and i don’t care #let me have this #i don't like how it turned out but here's more werewolf!kats brainrot #x reader #bakugou katsuki #aged up characters #tw hybrids #tw monsterfucking #mha smut #bnha smut #f!reader #🐺#bakugo katuski #bakugou x reader #bakubunny #cute moots

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breelandwalker · 3 months

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Wolf Moon - January 24-25, 2024

Shake off the cold and sing to the sky, witches - it's time for the Wolf Moon!

Wolf Moon

The Wolf Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of January. The name is said to be derived from the sound of wolves howling with hunger while prey is scarce in the midst of winter. Given that we now know that wolves howl mostly for communication, my personal opinion is that people huddled in their homes during a very dark and dangerous time of year probably noticed these sounds a lot more readily with little else to occupy their time as they waited out the winter, and thus were set to worrying about ravenous beasts invading their villages and farmsteads. (It's worth noting that wolves preying on livestock was a very real concern for most people outside major cities for many centuries, so this isn't entirely unfounded.)

The name also calls to mind the howling of the wind during winter storms, or whistling around the eaves during the long cold nights. And for those of us who might not have been careful with our spending over the holidays, I might cite a tongue-in-cheek reference to the wolves being at the door when those credit card bills come due.

[For those not familiar with the phrase, to have "a wolf at the door" is a saying that refers to some imminent hardship or disaster. In modern parlance, this is usually applied to poor finances or looming bankruptcy.]

This month, the moon peaks at 12:54pm EST on January 25th, so the moon will likely appear to be full on the nights of the 24th and 25th, depending on where you are in the world.

Some North American indigenous names for the month of January and its' moon are Cold Moon (Cree), Center Moon (Assiniboine), Severe Moon (Dakota), Ice Moon (Catawba), and Spirit Moon (Ojibwe). Other names include Mantis Moon (South African origins), Quiet Moon (Celtic), and Moon After Yule (Anglo-Saxon).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

As a new year dawns, it's time for rest and reflection before we set out on the next phase of our journey. While the cold weather lingers, take some time to sit by the fire, literally or metaphorically, and take stock of where you stand, what resources are available, and what you plan to do with them.

Check in with your near-and-dear following the mad rush of the holiday season as well. Make sure that friends, family, and community members around you are doing all right. Offer support and kindness where you can, but don't overextend yourself. It's your time to recuperate too, and it is good and healthy to set boundaries which allow time and space for yourself.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

Winter is a prime time for storytelling. Back in the days before internet or television or radio, people would often read to each other or tell tales to pass the time. Consider re-reading a favorite book that inspires you or exploring some region of folklore or mythology you've been meaning to look into. If you have children who are of an age to enjoy stories, read them some of your favorites or introduce them to something new. Share stories and discussions with your witchy circle too!

While you're at it, take a moment to examine the role that folklore and stories play in your practice. If you subscribe to a particular mythos, be it through deities or just general belief, consider which parts of it resonate the most with you and why.

Consider also the lessons of the winter season - the necessity of rest between periods of growth and activity, and the role of death, cold, and darkness in the natural cycles of life. What do these things mean to you and your practice? Are they a source of fear or fascination? Do you come alive in the winter or bundle up and wait for spring? How can you best remind yourself to pause for breath as the year goes on?

And of course, the beginning of a new year is an excellent time for goal-setting and divination. You're making resolutions for your mundane life, so make a few for your craft while you're at it, and pull out your cards or runes or pendulum for a New Year forecast on how things might go.

Happy Wolf Moon, witches! 🐺🌕

SOURCES & FURTHER READING:

Bree's Lunar Calendar Series

Bree's Secular Celebrations Series

Wolf Moon: Full Moon in January, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Full Moon January 2024: Discover the Wolf's Thrilling Spiritual Meaning, The Peculiar Brunette.

Moon Info - Full Moon Dates for 2024

Calendar-12 - 2024 Moon Phases

Image Source: What Is A Wolf Moon?, The Fact Site.

#witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #pagan #moon magic #lunar magic #full moon #wolf moon #lunar calendar

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the-entitie · 8 months

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COD men x K-9 Unit male reader

Part 1 | Part 2》》

A/n: I can speak three languages, only one of which borrow German words, so forgive me for shitty translations. I'm from the RSA, so you know. Not any of the boys hometown.

Reader works with a K-9 unit and his partner is called Mutt who is a mix breed of Alaskan Akita and Doberman(Mutt is also a service dog as reader has paranoia and C-PTSD). Readers call sign is Riot. The 141 boys needed help tracing a terrorist and John called in some favors to bring Riot and Mutt into the field. He helped the Los Vaqueros as well.

After the mission back at base, the reader interacts with the men, and they end up interacting with him.

Reader is referred to as you or Riot.

Mentions of panic attacks, anxiety attacks, C-PTSD, war, and / or war related violence. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, past trauma. Death of a family member. Torture, scars, and flashbacks.

Left: American Akita and Right: Long-haired Doberman

John Price: (740 words)

-He met you first, saw you first. Hell, he verified your file so he knew of your old teammates that turned because of the torture, and he knew of the many years you spent MIA. He also knows what you did to get out. So he keeps you close and keeps an eye on you. He's the one who needs to clear you for this recon mission. It will be his fault if another team mate goes rogue. -It only take him a few minutes to see how much you actually relay on Mutt, it takes him days to see its not reliance, no the two of you act in a cemented trust between you two. From the interactions at home base to the way you both move like a well oiled machine on the field, it doesn't take a genius to see that Mutt is a deadly force with training that makes the hound that much more dangerous. Price comes face to face with that realization when he sees just how far Mutt can throw a soldier four times their size. And Mutt came up to his thighs, mind you. -Time and space are all Price really needed to trust you completely. He knew how you acted with Mutt, and therefore, he knew how you would act around a team you trust. It doesn't take him long to see its not only Mutt who reacts to you. You react just as much based on your K-9. Price nearly shoots you when you call out to Mutt because you didn't whistle for the hound. You howled, and he could hardly tell it apart from the wild dogs he's heard out in the desert. He didn't even understand what the fuck you where doing until he heard something answer you, in the same rumbling call. It took a lot more time to get used to those kinds of noises from you. He could expect them from Mutt but not when it's you who makes them -Both of you were exhausted, been about three long days on your feet with little sleep, that's when he asks you how you make the sounds Mutt does. Hell he even starts trying to learn them just to know how you and you K-9 partner work better. "So I just cup my hands and what now Riot? I Grunt?" "No," you laugh at him, he doesn't feel patronized by it, "you hold your hands around your mouth and just bark, makes it echo like a dog." He sounded more like a mountain lion then canine when he actually gave it a try. You teach him how to pitch it up a bit, and how to drag the call out properly. "And you don't use your hand because?" "Because I'm used to it, and can make the 'echo' without my hands. I still do when I howl. Look." A few nights pass before he uses it to scare a tango shitless out side of the enemy base. He doesn't admit it but he likes 'talking' to the local wild dogs with you. He even enjoys hearing you and Mutt go off at each other because it means your both alive and still here. -Out side of the field and when you two go out to roam the town at the dead of night, he comes to see that the canine noises you and Mutt share gives you peace. The kind he used to find in cigars and smoke. He gets it, he knows that some people just have a vice. When you find him smoking alone behind his own home, he shrugs it off and blames it on the smoke detectors. He doesn't say that he stops to make your K-9 more comfortable in his home. He doesn't stop smoking but he tries to avoid it for your sake. You only corner him around a day or so to thank him. He won't admit to the red flaring up on his ears, but he tells you to drop it. -If he's ever the one who finds you when your having an attack, he will guard you. Get you safe and comfortable then he will become a gruff mother bear and be completely over protective of you. He only calms down when he sees that Mutt already does that, and he learns what can help you, what to look out for. He won't admit it though.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley: (734 words)

-Ghost didn't like you at first. or well he doesn't like anyone actually but he didn't like you. -You had a dog breed that was originally made for bear bating and he hated that he knew that. Even if you didn't get the hound because of that. Well, that and Mutt is constantly muzzled. It took you explaining it was required by law for him to try and ignore it. -But when he watches how fluidly you and Mutt work together, even seeing the raw fucking power that dog has when Mutt tackled an enemy to the ground, he starts to understand why you have to keep Mutt muzzled. Even if he didn't like it. -Simon has an ex-military dog at home so he knows how to act around an active working dog. He's the best to be around if you don't want people petting or trying to do anything really with your K-9 partner. -when at the base afterwards he sees that the dog isn't just a working dog but acts like you service dog. Everything from crowd control to doing small tasks for you on the daily. To siting between your legs when you have your back to anyone when doing a task to protect you. Mutt will even start doing this quiet sort of 'rueff' sound that will make you get out of where ever you are without any fanfare, you will just disappear. -He only finds out why a lot later. He feel kind of stupid for missing it after the fact. -Its the scars that cross your back and over your shoulders, the hitches of thick skin around your jaw. You are a torture survivor. So suddenly he gets it. Mutt is your safety, the dog wears a muzzle because your K-9 partner is also a person protection dog. -After he realized the why you stick to your partner so closely, he would begin to help Mutt protect you. He would stand ahead of you when Mutt would lay down to create space (crowd control). Ghost would watch your back and react with your partner to help you. -He takes his mask off when you two are either alone or when your are forced to show your scares he shows some of his to help you feel more comfortable. -you start to notice it, and at first you would try to stop him but eventually you just start protecting him back. You become more comfortable around him. Simon notices it to. -One day after a few days straight of being on your feet, both you and Simon end up passed out in his private quarters. Ghost wakes first to see Mutt cuddle against you and draped across him, when ever he tried to move the dog, they would just growl and to his utter amusement you growled back. -After that he gets you to 'talk' to Mutt any time he can, even on missions. - Ghost was the one who told you and Mutt to bark at each other to distract the enemy when on a recon mission. "Copy Riot, we need an in" "Need an in, copy. Any ideas for that L.t?" "Yeah, Riot go off and make some noise with Mutt" "Seriously?" "Yip, get going we need that data" You two got in, and yes you did start howling back and forth with Mutt in the echo trick wolves use. The enemy thought they were surrounded by cayotes. -When you eventually cuddle up with Ghost again, and Mutt yips or growls at you and you make the noise back, Simon will growl at you. It becomes a games between you to, even doing it as call outs outside of coms. Soap complains about wild dogs once and now Simon will get Mutt vocal just to fuck with Soap. -he starts calling you dog related nicknames, your name doesn't exist anymore. Call sign? only when necessary. You are now called with doggie names. He'll call out a, "Heh, Good boy" "Come on puppy you can speak" when you go dark on coms, or just when you don't answer him. Yes he will also say things like, "What ever you say Fido" -He makes you swear to never tell a soul that he also barks back at Mutt when you two are off duty. You caught him coping a growl when playing with Mutt once. -He gets Mutt and his las to meet. Now he also makes dog sounds with you on his down time, even without you much to his old girls delight.

John “Soap” Mactavish: (616 words)

-He loves your K-9 partner from the first time Price introduces you to the team, sure he tries to be professional but the second you let Mutt go off to play out of gear he just wants to give the hound so many pets. They are just so big and have that cute angry tilt to their face! Can you blame him. -when out on the field, he loves running with two of you on missions. The adrenaline and rush and just how much faster you two are than him. He loves it. -You end up doing it with him outside of missions after a while. Hiking out in mountains and secluded valleys, it's the first time he hears you howl with Mutt. The coyotes had started, yipping over whatever they killed lower down the ridge. Mutt, who was a few paces head, had paused to howl, without thinking you howl with them. Scares Soap but he just finds it fun. -Soap being so in love with Mutt leads to just being around you a lot. He starts learning what certain movements mean to you and your dog, how a sharp left with your hand was a call to draw back or how the shift of your stance meant to take the lead. It amazed him how well you read each other. -Then he sees how you act outside of the field, how Mutt still acted like a protector, and you kept mimicking the sounds Mutt made. Especially when you were more tired. He found it cute. Hell, he loved playing with Mutt, so when you made the hound more excited, he also got just as if not more excited. -Soap loves head scratches you find out when you two are off duty and hanging out. He's on the floor with Mutt and the hound he's cuddling wines before you reach down to comfort the dog with head scritches. You miss and pet Soap instead, beside being completely flustered, he asked you to do it again. He just starts asking you to do it more and more before you start petting him the same way you pet over your hound. -Now you start with the dog related nicknames, even over coms. Much to Soaps embarrassment and the teams delight. He nearly buckles the first time you call him a good boy, and he does when you call him a good dog. Blames it on a miss step. -He loves, loves, loves listening to you, and Mutt yap back and forth, loves even more when you go to rough houses with growls and even try pining you down one. He fails, but he doesn't care. -Soap only catches one of your attacks when it's about sun down. You're both at his place standing in the kitchen when your shoulders suddenly hitch, but you continued on as normal. Until Mutt wandered over to you, they stopped dead before making a gruff noise and jumping up onto you. Instead of getting you secluded because, of course, the hound sees Soaps house as a safe space. And Mutt will get you down, force you to sit and lower your head. "Woh, n'er knew em ta jump? Wait shit. ROIT!" He'll be right there next to you, knows what to do because of Ghosts episodes on recons. "What's it, lad? What can I do ta help 'im?" -You don't really talk about it. Sure, you explain what it was and why Mutt did that, but not the why it happened. It takes a while to admit that the scares you hide are the reason for that attack. He gets it he does, and now? Mother fucker will do dumb shit to distract you, or just talk and talk and talk. It helps, he knows it helps.

König: (764 words)

-Being a sniper, he likes the added security, the extra eyes to help watch his back. Sure, he doesn't trust you per say but he tries to be friendly none the less. -He had no idea what Mutt was trained for until he saw the both of you take down someone who made it to his vantage point. He saw how you moved like Mutt was an extension of yourself, that's how you earn his respect. -König didn't know why you had so many commands for Mutt, but most of them were cues or just situational. Most of all, the verbal commands you use are in Russian and Dutch so he can understand some of the tasks you ask Mutt to do . It kind of scares him that Mutt would know which trail was a friend and which person wasn't. He stands by that fear when he watches you set them off on a run away target. -He will only admit to himself that both you and Mutt look way to good covered in the gore from that attack. -You had to explain that that kind of training meant your partner had to be muzzled. You both get to talking that night, swapping stories of close calls, and König shyly showed you the star splattered scar on his jaw. Lifting his hood up just enough to see it before hurriedly drooping it back down. You share a few of the worse days you had as a call in search and riot guard and snippets of the scars covering your throat. -Habits begin forming. König will be a silent wall between you and crowds while Mutt would start alerting to his anxiety attacks as well. You made a joke about borrowing Mutt to him on the days off. He didn't understand the first time Mutt barked at him in a weird gruff tone before jumping up and doing it again. It's when you get him secluded and safe that you explain it to him. "Its called signaling. They can tell you when these things are going to happen or are actively happening. " "So it's to let me know?" "Yeah, for me, it's when I'm going to either for a flash back or when my paranoia forces me into a panic attack." "Flash back?" "Yes, remember that sister I told you about." -It took days for you to actually relay that story to him. How your team abandoned you, how the enemy held your sisters head above your bloody form. You explained how that caused phantom pains or flashbacks and how crippling that can be some days. -He becomes your solace after that. He would be there when you needed it. Keep people away when you couldn't look at anyone. He even began listening to Mutts alerts. He even lets you help him through the easier ones. -König called you one night when you both were off for the next few days. You could tell by the shake on his breath what was happening before he could tell you. That was when you showed him how Mutt does decompression therapy, the hound big enough to help ground him. You stayed that night, even teaching König some of the commands you use to tell Mutt how to help you. He's quick to learn them as some phrases are Dutch that you use so he can catch the meaning of some commands. -You don't call him until a long while later. It's on a mission while you two are hunkered down after a botched extraction. Or well, Mutt calls him. "Riot? Are you, Oh Scheiße! 「Shit」" "wat 「what」, ag. What can I do? Dir helfen 「Help you」, how can I help. Please let me help you. " -He ended up holding how so you couldn't hurt yourself in these attacks. It didn't feel as entrapped as you thought it would. König is so much bigger than you, but it's like he makes a physical barrier between you and the world. He helps your partner make you feel safe. It's hard to explain to anyone why your panic attacks act like that, why your mind needs pain to calm from feeling like you're dying. König will explain how his attacks can feel suffocating, and that's why his jaw and throat are so bruised most days. -Between one mission and the next, you start showing off things you and Mutt can do to him, like Mutt retrieving throne knives or how the hound can trace any sent it knows for miles. -You only bark back at Mutt one night when trapped in a safe house. Neither of you could find each other, and mutt had run off

Alejandro Vargas: (720 words)

-Learning of the terrorist stationed so close to los vaqueros' home base, Alejandro was quick to reach out. The 141 had helped him before, so he was surprised to learn of the newer recruit they called in to help them. Alejandro told Price to just bring you along. They needed the extra help honestly, as much as he refused to trust any of 141 purely on principle. They needed the help. -He met you with Ruddy on the roof of the office building, and he asked the polit to land on. When you dropped from the helicopter with the others. Mutt held to your chest before being deposited on the ground. He's seen how some of the other search and rescue units who have K-9's, but he's never seen anyone who works with their hound like you do. Alejandro is both grateful and terrified to have you fighting with him. -Seeing you and Mutt outside the field was even more intriguing. How the two of you reacted perfectly to each other, he saw a bit of himself and Rudy in the way you two work like a well-oiled machine. He tried to play nice, be kind and calm, but when shit hit the fan? He drops it. Its only been a week before you use the recall command on Mutt to level the man they needed to interrogate. Both of you were forced to hunker down in a safe house, Alejandro making the bound man walk with little success. He asked for your help not long after the son had dipped down. "Think he will talk?" "Not willingly if that file you circulated was true." "Any ideas?" "You aren't scared of loud noises, are you?" "Not really, why?" -When you said you could help, this isn't what he was expecting, but it was working. You had taken to standing behind the tied down guy, and whenever Alejandro could sound even remotely frustrated, you would call out to Mutt before the dog would lunge with a snarl or harsh bark. Scared the man shitless, and he would mumble about 'de-ablo' or 'deamons' on and off. When things got too harsh, or either of you were cornered, he watched in equal parts horror and delight as you let Mutt cull those surrounding you all. Watch as you both kill together just as well as you work together. -It eventually became a joke, the whole you being a dog or sounding like one. Even when the two of you left the safe house. Hell, he started talking to you like he would your dog. Started to tease you with the same command you used on your hound. "Come on, Roit, I know you can beg better than that." "Here, cachorro cachorro cachorro [puppy puppy puppy]!" "Such a good boy, you want a treat?" "There we go, Good perro. Now sit for me." Even saying he kept treats for when you were especially well behaved. If you didn't also start laughing along he wouldn't have kept doing it and actually started keeping 'treats' on hand for you on the late nights you two would just talk on and on about nothing and everything. -Being back at the base and left to your devices, he started asking about everything Mutt could do. He would ask if you could also do the tricks and inquire about the ones you could. "Wait cariño, you can howl?" "Yeah. Wanna hear me?" "Oh more than anything." "hhhm, maybe I'll do it later." "I'm happy to beg you, but I think you would sound better begging me, cariño." "I don't beg Alejandro." "You will. And you'll sound so good doing it." "Try me," -He loved hearing you talk to Mutt. Just waiting up at night to listen to the back and forth of barking and yips that echo across the open land. Whether from far away or not, he loved it. -Alejandro is the worst when either of you get hurt. He is the worst flirt, and he lays the dog related teasing on twice as thick. Not only is Rudy swearing him out in broken Spanish, but you don't help either. Doing anything to help him stay conscious or playing along to distract yourself from the pain. Even Mutt begins to see him as safe.

More COD Boys x K-9 unit reader 》》》》

735 notes · View notes

loving-barnes · 3 months

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LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

A/N: And here I am, once again. With another one-shot. Well... not a one-shot. This is chapter one of a series with Logan. More on that later.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: none

Summary: After a failed mission, Logan unexpectedly brings home an injured mutant.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story includes mentions of abuse.

Words: 5300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

Logan’s mission was a failure, a trap. He was glad he got away before he could end up in a cage, locked forever. It was supposed to be easy. An in-and-out mission with a mutant child. Fuck no. He was met with a bunch of soldiers, ready to kill him. And, there was no child. He quickly learned that it was a set-up. The child that Charles had found got moved away from that facility.

On his way back to the school, he found a place to get a drink. The moon was up in the sky, illuminating the night world. The air got colder. He still had a long road home. One little detour to a bar wouldn’t hurt anybody, right? A drink would lift his spirits.

He parked a stolen motorbike in front of a dive bar. Drink or two to get his mindset straight, and then he would head back to the school.

The place smelled like a hellhole - urine, spilt alcohol and cigars. It was a perfect place to hide a corpse. By the smell, he wondered if there wasn’t a rotten body under the floor. He sat at the bar, ordered a beer and minded his business. He could hear everything with his enhanced hearing - even a pin drop.

Whistles came from behind his back when he was on his second beer. That could only mean one thing - a woman entered this hellhole. Probably a hooker, he thought.

“Hey baby, are you lost?” he heard someone’s sleazy voice.

“Now that’s what I call entertainment for tonight!” another man shouted. Some even made howling sounds.

Logan gently turned his head to the side, ready to see an old hag or a trashy whore. What he found was a young woman approaching the bar. She had torn old clothes on her, covered in dirt and dust. He wouldn’t stare at her if it weren’t for the bruises and scratches on her face and hands. He frowned. What the fuck happened to her?

She took a seat two seats to his left side. The corner of his eyes captured three scumbags approaching her as if she was their prey. Logan gripped his beer bottle tighter, his knuckles becoming white.

“Baby, let’s have some fun,” one guy touched the woman’s shoulder, making her face them.

“Leave me alone,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“Come on, sugar, don’t be a prude,” another man touched her cheeks, mapping the wounds on her face. “Somebody had their turn. Now, we want to have some fun. Huh?”

It was Logan’s cue to step in. He was fast enough to take the man’s hand off the woman. He gripped it tightly with his, twisting it. “Leave her alone, dipshit. I’m not gonna say it twice.”

“Get your paw off me, dude,” the man growled. He couldn’t get away from Logan’s hold. His friends got his back, ready to beat Logan’s ass. “And leave before the we will teach you a lesson.”

The woman’s breathing sped up, distressed from everything that was happening. “Stop, please,” she said to all of them. But she was cornered at the bar by one of the guys. There was nowhere to escape.

Logan smiled at the bastards. “I’d like to see you try.”

His adamantium claws slid out and penetrated the man’s skin on his arm, almost cutting off the limb. He screamed from the pain, blood spurting everywhere. Then was kicked in the gut.

One of the men grabbed the woman’s shoulder, pushing her to him. A knife appeared under her throat. He wanted to get away with her. “No, please,” she gasped as she felt the man’s other hand wrapped around her torso, holding her against her will. She was tired, beaten and ready to give up.

“Shh, darlin’, it’ll be over soon. We’ll have some fun. Be a good girl and come with me.”

Logan’s eyes found the woman visibly disgusted and afraid. As he was about to finish the second guy, the woman pushed the bastard off her.

“No,” she screamed. And with that painful sound, some force escaped her body, knocking down everyone around her, even Logan. He flew through the bar and smashed into a wall like the rest of the people. Glasses and bottles shattered around the place.

Logan grunted, surprised by what happened. Slowly, he got on his feet. His eyes found the woman again, standing at the same spot, alone. Her body was shaking. It seemed she was on the verge of crying.

Grunting, he stood up and walked to her. She pressed herself against the bar. “No, please.”

“Don’t worry,” his voice was softer than before. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya, kid.”

She took a step back, shaking her head. She didn’t believe a word he said. No wonder.

Fuck this night! Then and there, he knew he had to take her with him. At least he wouldn’t come empty-handed.

“We are the same,” he tried again, slowly reaching for her. “I can take you to a safe place. There are people like us who can help you.”

His eyes scanned the woman’s face. He knew only two options could have happened: A) She got beaten up by her significant other. B) She escaped some sick fuckers who experimented on her.

People around were getting on their feet, shaking off the dizziness. They were processing what happened. Some of them were able to put two and two together - mutants.

“Come before they try to kill us both,” Logan tried her again. “Take my hand. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“Fucking mutants!” someone shouted. “Kill them! Kill them both!”

This time, the woman didn’t hesitate and grabbed Logan’s hand. What choice did she have? He led her out of the bar before the first gunshots started. He got to his bike and sat on it. “Quick, hop behind me.”

At least seven men ran out of the bar with shotguns and pistols, shooting at them. One of the bullets hit Logan’s shoulder. He snarled from the pain. He started the bike before more shots could get to him or the woman.

When he felt her body against his back, he started the engine. “Hold me tight,” he shouted at her.

The woman grabbed him by the waist, gripping him tightly. The gunshots weren’t stopping. A few of them swished near their heads. Her heart beat fast. She gave her life to some stranger. The last time that happened, they tortured her.

One of her hands let go of the man’s and turned her weak body to the side. One more time, the power escaped her hand, and she protected them from the bullets that kept flying around. Again, a veil of some energy surrounded them. Under the moonlight, it seemed silvery and light blue. Bullets got absorbed into the shield.

It lasted only a few seconds, and then the energy disappeared. The shooting stopped. Logan got them far away from that hellhole. Now, it was just the two of them on the bike driving away.

“You okay?” he asked, shouting through the wind.

He then felt her other arm sneak around his waist to hold onto him. The rest of her body leaned against his back. He heard a deep exhale and a soft “yeah”.

He couldn’t believe anything that happened today - first, a failed mission that almost got him captured. Now, a woman on his bike, whom he saved from pervs. Plot twist - she was a mutant with an ability he had never seen before.

And he didn’t know her name.

Logan registered that her body got heavier, and the grip on his waist loosened. “Shit,” he cursed and slowed down, bringing the vehicle to a stop. He moved fast, doing his best to capture her body before she could fall.

“Hey,” he shook her a little as he took her into his arms. “Come on, kid, I need you to come back and look at me.”

Unknowingly, he brushed her cheek with his thick fingers. Damn, she was pretty. That’s when she opened her eyes slowly, staring into his. “I’m sorry,” was all she said.

“That’s okay, kid. Can you hold on a little longer? We are two and a half hours away from a safe place.”

She took a deep breath. “Please, just kill me and don’t make me suffer.”

Logan frowned. He got an answer he wondered. Option B was the correct one. “What? No, not happening, bub. I won’t harm ya. I promise you that.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“I get it, kid. I get you have no reason to believe me. Just this once, trust me.”

He helped her to her feet, holding her tight in case she’d lost balance. Her eyes found his. Tears were sparkling inside of them. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Good girl,” he praised her gently and helped her get on the bike behind him. “If you need anything, tell me and I’ll stop. Keep your eyes open.”

I should have stolen a car, he thought. But at least they were on their way to Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.

They entered the school’s estate. From afar, they could see the lights coming from the building. The woman exhaled, and her hands again lost their grip. This time, she fell from the bike onto the hard ground. It was so quick that he didn’t have time to notice she was slipping off him. “Shit!” Logan cursed and brought the bike to a halt, jumping off it.

He ran to the woman, kneeling next to her. First, he checked her up, just to be sure she wasn’t dead. “Hey, hey,” he tapped her face, trying to wake her. Nothing happened. His fingers managed to find a pulse. Fortunately, it was there. “Storm! Charles!” he shouted from the top of his lungs. “Anyone!”

Logan grabbed her body, holding her under the knees and back. He started to walk to the school. One of her arms was hanging in the air.

The main entrance door opened. Several people ran outside. Storm was the first one out, followed by Beast and Bobby. They were all dressed in sleep outfits. Their sleep was interrupted by the unexpected turn of events. It was two in the morning.

“Holy shit,” Bobby commented when he noticed the woman in Logan’s arms.

“Oh my god! What happened?” Storm questioned.

Together, they walked inside the mansion and headed to the lower grounds where they had their infirmary. It was hard to be silent. When they walked inside, Logan put the woman on an examination table.

“Damn,” Scott commented.

Jean was already there, prepping the tools. When she approached the woman, she gasped. “What the hell happened to her?” Storm helped as much as she could. Hank approached the table as well.

Logan was visibly pissed. His chest was heaving, and he wanted to punch a wall. “Where the fuck is Charles?” he asked loudly. “Fucking mission, fucking night!”

“Who did this to her?” Storm asked, her hands gently brushing the woman’s bruised face. It played with colours, spreading from one side to the other. Her fingers brushed against the scratches. “What’s her name?”

Logan huffed. “Don’t know. There wasn’t a lot of opportunity to chit-chat when scumbags were shooting at us,” he explained to them. “All I know is she’s a mutant. She protected our asses. That’s why I brought her here.”

“Vitals are stable. There is no internal bleeding.” Jean informed them once she checked the first data that she got. “Hm,” a sound escaped her throat. “We need to scan her body to see if she has anything broken.”

“Logan had to get a child, and he comes back with a woman,” Scott commented not so silently.

“Scott,” Ororo glared at him. “He saved her life.”

“You’re such a dick, Summers,” Logan frowned at him.

“It’s good you brought her here, Logan,” Hank joined the conversation.

“She was about to become a toy for some fuckers who can’t keep their dick in their pants,” Logan said. “And then she showed me what’s in her. I’ve seen a lot of shit throughout my life. Honestly, I’ve never seen this kind of mutation.”

“What did she do?” Hank asked. Everyone wanted to know more.

The Wolverine grunted and shook his head. “Dunno how to describe it. Some force got out of her that threw us all away from her. It was powerful, it stung like a bitch. It looked like a veil of energy. When she used it again, it absorbed all the bullets fired at us.”

“Flyrokinesis?” Jean questioned.

“It’s a possibility,” Hank nodded. “But I’d need to see it. Or it could be Flyrogenesis.”

“Or both,” Jean added.

“Defensive mutations are rare,” Storm chimed in. “It’s been decades since we got any information about a mutant like this.”

“Until we know more, we can only speculate,” Hank ended the discussion.

“Let’s give her some rest,” Jean turned to the screens. “She’ll be out for a while, and we all need to rest. We’ll know more tomorrow.”

They left the infirmary one by one and headed back to their rooms. The last two people who remained were Storm and Logan. Both of them stayed by the unconscious woman. “I cannot believe someone did this to her,” she said.

“I think she escaped some lab,” said Logan. “When she was conscious, she didn’t believe I wanted to take her to a safe place. She wanted me to kill her.”

“It’s a good thing you brought her here, Logan,” Storm patted his shoulder.

Logan’s eyes kept travelling around the woman’s face, taking in her hair and their colour. “For now, we can only guess what happened. But, fuck, she looked like she escaped hell.”

. . .

White light, so bright it hurt her eyes. It was painful to open her eyes. She slowly got used to it by rapid blinking. The white turned into silver, then steel-blue, until the first outlines appeared. Her ears registered a steady beeping sound. Where the hell was she? What happened? What was this palace? Panic started to rise inside her chest. Her body started to shiver.

There was a man who promised to take her to a safe place. How could she trust a stranger?

Fuck, it was hard to breathe. The beeping sound fastened. She ended up locked somewhere. Again. It was another lab - she was sure of it.

A woman’s face appeared above her. She had short white hair and a smile on her face. Weird. “It’s okay, you are safe,” were the first words she heard. “Calm your breathing. You are in distress.”

“W-what-”

“You are safe now. No one is going to hurt you here,” the woman had a soothing voice.

“W-where am I?” she whispered with fear. Her whole body was shaking. Tears threatened to escape her eyes.

“You are in a school for mutants,” she explained.

“School?”

“Yes, school. It is not a lab or some kind of crazy facility. We have children here who are like us, special.”

A school for mutants, she repeated inside her head. New emotion came to her face - confusion. “I don’t understand. W-who are you?”

“My name is Ororo Munroe,” she introduced herself. “But they also call me Storm.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Storm?”

“I have weather-manipulating abilities,” she said with a smile. “What’s your name?”

She took a deep breath. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N,” she introduced herself, eyes never leaving Ororo’s dark ones. Y/N sat up carefully.

It had to be a lab. There were monitors and displays with data. Her eyes lowered to her hands, and she saw an IV on top of her hand. Y/N realised her hands were not tied up. Was Storm telling the truth?

“How are you feeling, Y/N? Do you need anything?”

“Uh,” she tried to find the right words. “I’m tired, my whole body hurts, and I am confused.”

“Give it a moment. It will all click together. I can promise you that,” said Storm.

The door to the infirmary opened. An older man wheeled in on a modified wheelchair. Y/N’s eyes followed his every move. He was bald but dressed in a fancy suit. He had a gentle smile on his lips.

“Y/N,” he said her name.

She frowned, not expecting anyone to know her. It was alarming. “How do you know my name?”

“Y/N, this is Professor Charles Xavier. He’s like us, a mutant. He has an all-powerful brain thanks to his telepathic powers,” Storm introduced the man to her. “He’s the headmaster of the school.”

He approached the woman, gently touching her hand. “I am so sorry for your suffering, but please know you are safe here.”

“Don’t…” she raised her hand. “Please, don’t read my mind.”

“I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t want to pry. It’s just that your thoughts were screaming so loud, it was impossible not to hear them,” Charles explained to her. “I will not talk about it. It is up to you to share your story.”

Her shoulders dropped, and she relaxed. “Thank you.”

“Now, let me tell you about this place,” he wheeled a bit farther away from her, observing the room as if he were there for the first time. “In this school, we not only teach children and help them learn their mutations, but we also accept fugitives and help them learn.”

She tilted her head, wincing in pain. “Are you offering me a place to stay?” her voice was softer than before.

“That is if you want to,” Charles nodded.

It came as a shock. Tears appeared in her eyes. “I don’t have to run anymore?” she asked timidly.

“No, Y/N,” he smiled. “You are safe here, with us.” Charles wheeled back to the door, obviously pleased. “Welcome to the X-Mansion. If you need anything, come see me in my office.” And then he was gone.

Y/N turned her head to Ororo, wiping off the tears that gathered in her eyes. It was all surreal. “I was expecting many things to happen, but not this.” And then, “Wait, but I have nothing. No money, no clothes. I can’t afford to stay here. I can’t give you anything.”

Ororo stopped her. “Don’t worry about it. First, you need to get better. You still have bruises and wounds around your body that need to heal.”

Y/N’s hands shot up to her face, fingers grazing over scratches. Then, under her fingertips, she felt a bruise under her eye that hurt a little. Her eyes were looking for a mirror or a reflection. She needed to see the damage. Her mind wandered into her memories, looking back at what happened. For now, it was all a mush. Everything that had happened overlapped. She pressed fingers to her temple, massaging them.

“You okay?” Ororo’s hand appeared on her shoulder.

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, just a mild headache.”

Half an hour later, she met more people - Dr. Jean Grey, who ran more tests on her. She X-rayed Y/N’s entire body just to be sure there was nothing broken. Later, she did a scan to see if there was any indication that would capture Y/N’s mutant power.

When Y/N met Hank, she got scared. She never saw a mutant who looked like that - a blue ball of fur and monster claws. No, he was not a monster. He looked like a beast. “I’m sorry,” she quickly apologised.

Hank was with Jean, looking at scans they made together. “Do you see that?” he asked, his thick blue finger pointing at the blue hue floating inside her body. “Have you seen anything like that before?”

“No,” she said. “But it’s nothing, to be honest. It barely showed in the scan. It might not even mean anything.”

“Or it can be everything,” Hank looked at Jean. “But I agree, so far we have nothing. She’ll be healthy in no time. But, we need to know what she can do.”

After the tests, Ororo brought her a bathrobe and took her upstairs. It was a perfect time to walk around the mansion. All the kids were in their classes or outside, and no one was around.

Y/N’s eyes wandered around the place. She couldn’t take in how massive the institute was. It carried the history and memories of so many people. Overall, in one word, this place was magnificent. “This is amazing,” she whispered.

Ororo’s hands held her shoulder as they walked to the highest floor in the mansion. She opened one of the many doors. They belonged to a bedroom. “Is this yours?” Y/N asked.

“No,” Storm closed the door. “This will be your room, Y/N. You have a bathroom here,” she pointed at the door beside the bed. “And a closet.”

“I thought that this was your room. It’s too nice.”

Storm laughed. “I have my room on a different level. Here’s how it works: The students share bedrooms. The youngest are in groups of three to four. The older two to three. Adults like privacy, so they have a room for themselves.”

Y/N nodded, understanding what she was saying. “Thank you.”

After Storm gave Y/N instructions, she was left alone in the bedroom. She had to sit down on a bed to take it all in. They gave her a bed, hot water, and so much more. It seemed surreal. What if this was all a dream? She sat in silence, waiting for someone to wake her up with torture.

Five minutes passed, then ten and fifteen. Nothing happened. Maybe it was real. Y/N pinched herself, and it hurt. It is real. She went into the bathroom and took a shower. Everything was there - towels, soaps, shampoos.

Surreal.

Clothes were resting on her bed when she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in fluffy towels. There were jeans, socks, underwear, bras, t-shirts, sweaters, hell even shoes. There were only a few pieces from each item. Y/N pressed her fingers to her temples. She wanted to cry. How is it possible that her life turned upside down in less than a day?

Once fully dressed, she opened the door and peeked into the hallway. No one was present. She walked outside, clean and fresh, ready to explore the place more. Her walk was careful and slow. Her fingertips touched everything she could reach - the wooden walls, the statues and the paintings. Her eyes were travelling around the place, taking it all in.

What was fascinating was the portraits of Oscar Wilde, Jane Austen and other novelists. It brought her memories of when she would read books in her bedroom.

“You alright, kid?”

That voice was familiar. It made Y/N turn her eyes to see a well-built man with unusual facial hair. She couldn’t deny he was handsome. She had to blink a few times. This man was the guy who got her here. As she observed him, the white tank top with a black flannel shirt over it, she tilted her head to the side. Damn.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he took a few steps closer to her.

“You are the guy who brought me here,” she pointed a finger at him but quickly retracted it. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “I remember so little from that day.”

“Well, tough night.”

There was a flash of memory from that night. His face, looking down at her, lips moving and saying something that she couldn’t quite comprehend. “Sorry for ruining your evening.”

He chuckled. “You just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

She opened her mouth but then closed it. She didn’t know what to say. The man talked instead. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Y/N,” she introduced herself.

“Logan.”

“Logan,” she whispered his name. “Nice to meet you. And thank you for saving my ass.”

He only nodded. “I should get goin’. I have a class to teach,” he said.

She crossed her arms akimbo. “You teach? Here? In this school?”

“What, is it that hard to believe?” he chuckled.

“Actually, yeah. You don’t look like the guy who wants to teach kids,” she commented. “What do you teach?”

“History and combat training.”

Y/N opened her mouth but then made a face, perplexed. “Combat training?” Why would they teach combat training in a school? And then it hit her, to defend themselves if necessary.

Logan walked past her, heading to the stairs. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

She gave him a simple nod, and then he was gone. Y/N’s eyes had trouble pulling away from the spot she saw him. This Logan guy was a handsome man with a rough exterior.

She continued walking through the long hallway until she found another set of stairs that she took to a lower level. She must have been walking like this for another thirty minutes until she came down to the entrance hallway. This place was indeed huge.

She kept turning, trying to figure out which way to go next. A school bell started to ring. Another lesson was over. The doors opened, and kids of all ages walked out. There were so many of them. And they were all happy. They weren’t lying. This building was filled with them - from the youngest kids to teenagers.

A paper plane flew before her eyes, steadily floating in the air. A boy used his ability to make them fly. Magical.

Her eyes captured Storm walking with another man, chatting. It was probably another teacher. Y/N decided to wait for Storm and ask about the place some more until someone shouted: “Watch out!”

Y/N spun on her heel. Her breath got lost when she found a fireball heading straight to her. Her hands immediately went up in the air. To protect herself, a veil of blue hue covered her whole being. It was a forcefield, and it absorbed the fireball. Y/N could feel the energy in her palms.

Why would anyone throw a fireball? That scared the shit out of her. The veil disappeared once the danger was gone, and her hands fell to her body. She took a few deep breaths. Her eyes caught a boy staring at her with big eyes. Was it him who did it? Impressive.

“Did you see that?”

“Who is she?”

“What kind of power is that?”

The students saw it all. They whispered about it while staring right at her. There were many of them looking and talking. The voices rang in her head. Just calm down, Y/N, she told herself. They are just kids.

Storm’s eyes were wide and sparkling with excitement. She was fast enough to run to her. “Forcefield,” she exclaimed.

Y/N twisted and turned on the spot, looking at everyone. All eyes were on her. It made her feel vulnerable. Her eyes caught Logan standing at the stairs, observing. She couldn’t read his face.

“Everyone back to your classes,” Logan ordered the students.

“Amazing,” Storm commented. “We were wondering what your power was.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. She’d never heard someone say that to her. Creep! A woman’s voice screamed inside her head. Murderer! Psychotic bitch! She wrapped her hands around herself, taking a step back. It all came back again.

“Hey, hey,” Storm put her hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to hide here. We are all the same. The students were surprised by your ability.”

Come to my office, Y/N, she heard in her head. She spun on her heel to look around, trying to find the source of the voice.

“I think I heard the… the Professor,” she said.

“He’s in his office. That way,” Storm turned Y/N to the right side. There was a hallway leading to a big wooden door.

Y/N managed to catch Logan’s eyes looking at her before he left. He was something else - that’s how she could describe it.

Hesitantly, she walked over to the door, ready to knock, when she heard the Professor telling her to come in. As said, she opened the door and walked inside. She was met with the older bald man, still wearing fancy clothes.

“Take a seat.”

Y/N sat on a brown leather armchair. The place smelled like wood and books. There were lots of them. The armchair was comfortable. Her back was straight, and her body was stiff, always ready to run if necessary.

“I would like to know more about your mutation,” he wheeled closer to her.

“What do you want to know?”

He smiled. “Anything you’d like to share with me. I know I can look, but I don’t want to pry.” When he saw the distrustful look, he chose different words. “The more we know about your power, the better we can train you. We can give you more information about your mutation.”

“How can I know you won’t use it against me?”

Charles nodded. “You don’t. We will need to build the trust together.”

“Before I answer you,” she took a deep breath. There were some questions, and she needed answers. “What exactly do you do here?”

The man sighed. “What you see is true - this is a school. There was an idea it would become a mixed school for mutants and humans. That never came to life. Now, it is a safe place for mutant kids, disapproved by the regular society. I find children around the States, and we bring them here - if they want to. Occasionally, we give adults a place to stay, like we did for you.”

It was sincere. Charles wasn’t lying. She could feel it. “This ability showed when I was around 15. I know that it can protect me when I am in danger. I can sense the energy in my hands when I let it out. I can’t protect another person if you are wondering.”

“But…” he goaded.

“I killed with this burst of energy. I hurt people with it. I believe you saw it, didn’t you?”

Charles nodded. “Yes, I did. You can create a protective force field that keeps you out of danger. For example, what happened minutes ago, the fireball one of the students accidentally threw at you.”

She frowned at him, not liking what he was saying. “Then why did I kill with it?”

“There is an explanation to it. From what I saw-”

“When I asked you not to look,” she cut his speech.

“I apologise, Y/N. It is not my intention to hurt you or be nosy. As I already told you, your thoughts and memories were screaming, mixing inside your head. The door was open, and I only peeked in.”

She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. “You saw it all?”

“No,” he shook his head. “But enough to have a picture. As I said, it is your story to tell, Y/N.”

“What you saw?”

“The day you used your power for the first time.”

It was a moment, a three-second glimpse into her past, but she was back in her child's room, messing with her then-boyfriend. And then, they were arguing when it happened. The force that escaped her body killed the boy and destroyed half the house she once lived in.

“If we want to know more, we must see what you can do. Flyrokinesis is the ability to create and manipulate force fields. It is mostly defensive. However, there can be some offensive moves done with it. This mutation is exceptional.”

She cocked a brow, not sold on it.

“We can help you learn and work with your ability. That is if you want.”

No one is forcing you to stay, Y/N. The choice is up to you. His voice was in her head again.

No more running, no more experiments or killing. Y/N could choose her life. Out of everything that had happened in her life, this, so far, seemed like the best thing that could have happened to her. Fucking trust issues.

“We have everything you need and more,” Charles wasn’t using his telekinesis. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” There was a smile playing on his lips. “No more running.”

“No more running,” she repeated.

#logan howlett x female reader #Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x mutant female reader #Logan Howlett x mutant reader #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #Wolverine #Logan Howlett #Marvel fanfiction

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fairysluna · 1 year

Text

what lives in the dark.

In the middle of the Godswood of Winterfell lives a creature that appears at midnight with the full moon, but you and your boyfriend were too stubborn to believe it.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Werewolf!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader.

TAGS/TW – smut (breeding/creampie, p in v, cunninglus, size kink, squirting, and praise), dubcon/noncon, infidelity(?, hunter/pray dynamics, lowborn!reader, feral!cregan. if something is missing pls let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE – so, this story contains a bit of omegaverse dynamics bc Cregan is a werewolf, but only basic aspects like the rut and knotting. It took me a while to write this actually, but i hope you all enjoy it!! also, thanks to my beautiful wifey @targbarbie for being my beta reader, love you to the moon and to saturn🤍

WORD COUNT – 4.792

GENERAL TAG LIST – @borikenlove @melsunshine @clairacassidy @satansdarlin @aelora-a @cullenswife @ilikeitbetterangsty @jvpit3rs

FEEDBACK , SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

"I'm starting to regret this."

Your voice came out as a whisper, almost being silenced by the sounds of the nightlife of the Godswood. The darkness surrounding you was scary enough to spook away to the bravest of men, and yet your lover decided that it was worth the try. You were barely able to see the stars in the sky, for the trees did not allow you to have a clear view. The moonlight was dim, the only thing that helped you to see was the candles on your hands.

"Just a few more rounds and we'll get back home," your lover promised, holding your hand and guiding you deeper into the woods.

A quick look at him was all you needed to start to feel unsure, not safe. He was not tall, one or two inches taller than you, his body was slim and skinny, and he certainly was not the greatest of fighters. He was the son of a stableman, the closest thing to battle he had experienced was when a horse almost kicked his gut. And yet, he believed to be brave and strong enough to submerge into the darkness of the woods.

Even when the whispers say that every full moon, a howling creature appears. The northerns usually hide in the safety of their homes when this time of the month arrives, but there you were, following your lover into the craziest thing you have done in your life. Oh, how stupid you were.

"My love, I don't think this is a good idea," you insisted, already being paranoid with the whistling sound of the wind, "this is not safe, please, let's just go home."

He didn't listen, so you froze in your place. Once he realized you were not moving, he turned around and pressed his lips with disapproval, almost looking mad at you for stopping his adventure, but you were not going to bend, you wanted to go back. Your instinct was yelling for you to turn around and run.

"I want to go home," you said sternly, firmly expressing your annoyance and slight fear.

"Love-"

"No," you interrupted him, "it's enough. This is stupidly dangerous, I don't want to do this anymore, I want to-"

His lips pressed against yours, silencing you as he pushed you against a tree. His hands went to your rear, cupping your arse and stealing a small gasp from your mouth. You squirmed under his touch, accidentally brushing your thigh against him and causing a moan to slip out of his lips.

Almost immediately, you pushed him away.

"Stop this!" you grunted, "what are you doing?"

"Trying to calm you down, that's what I'm doing," he said with a smirk, and you could not help but to roll your eyes as he came closer to your lips once again.

"I want to go home," you demanded.

"I want to make you mine," he muttered, going to attack your lips once again.

His hands cupped your face in order to retain your position between his body and the tree behind you. You moved your face, and with a single push you managed to get him away from you. He groaned, angry and upset, but you decided to ignore his furrowed expression as you turned around and started to walk away.

"Wait!" you heard him yelling, but you didn't stop, "My love, please, wait!"

"I'm going home with or without you," you answered, keeping your pace steady and firm.

"You can get lost, the Godswood is too big!"

"I'll find the way out," you assured him.

You didn't turn around, but you knew he was walking right behind you because you were able to hear the leaves cracking under his shoes. Your breath became unsteady as you started to get slightly tired of walking, and you couldn't find the weirwood tree that would make you know you were going in the right direction.

Trying to look at the sky to see if the star could help you with your orientation, you realize that the crown of the abundant trees were covering almost the whole sky, leaving you with nothing that showed you where you were going. You cursed yourself on the low, losing your pride and turning around to finally face your lover and ask him to guide you through the forest.

But he wasn't there. No one was, actually. As soon as you turned around, you were able to hear a movement in the trees and bushes, and the only thing in front of you was darkness. The candle in your hand was soon to be extinct, for the wax was already fully melting in the cup. You started to feel genuine and pure fear, you were alone, in the woods during the full moon. Nothing good will come out of this, of that you were certain.

The sudden movement of the trees put you on alert. You swallowed hard as your body tensed, stiff as a rock. You tried to remain quiet, thinking that perhaps if the thing that was out there did not hear you then you would be safe. Your shaky breath became a bit too loud for your liking as you slowly started to move backwards, resisting the imminent urge to run away.

And then you saw it, two yellowish spheres that were seen hiding behind a tree not so far from you. Your lower lip trembled, and when you heard it grunting, you knew you should run.

The candle, the only thing that provided you with light, fell from your hand and was turned off by the traces of snow in the ground. You were staring at it, and it was staring right back at you. You could recognize a tall and big shape, almost too big to be human… no man you have known was that tall, and that's how you knew you were in the presence of the frightening beast the northern tales tell you about.

You saw it move, and before it could come out from its hiding spot, you found yourself running away, completely blinded by the darkness surrounding you, and the panic and adrenaline of the moment. Your hands were grasping your skirts, lifting them up so it was easier for you to move between bushes and branches.

It was almost impossible for you to know whether you were going for the right path or not. The adrenaline of the moment led you where your instinct would take you, and with a bit of luck, you managed to arrive at the center of the Godswood, where the Weirwood Tree was standing. Its fallen red leaves were decorating the white snow, and you finally were able to see beyond your own hands.

You looked up, and the stars were shining bright, the moon giving you the light you needed to realize where you were standing. You fell to your knees in front of the carved face, and you started to pray for your safety, cursing the name of your lover who had no remorse in leaving you to go by yourself.

You noticed you were crying once you touched your face and felt your soaked cheeks. Whines and cries were heard in the quietness of the night, your body shaking with fear as you were looking at your surroundings like a paranoid.

The sound of a branch being stepped on was heard, and your eyes quickly saw the tall frame of a man. You felt relief, a weight taken off your shoulders as you stood up and sighed. He walked slowly, getting closer to you, and once he was close enough you were able to identify him as Lord Stark.

A tall, handsome man that you had the chance to meet a few times around Winterfell; now you were seeing him as your salvation from the terror that was starting to consume you.

Of course the panic in your mind did not allow you to notice his bright yellow eyes.

"Lord Stark," you breathlessly said, standing up to face him. His tall frame in front of you, your eyes looking up at his face. "What a relief…"

He remained silent, your eyes kept wandering around going from his face to your surroundings just to make sure the thing didn't follow you to that place. Once he reached your side, you felt some sense of calmness and peace.

"We need to go back, I intended to go back but I got lost in my way and I couldn't- this is not safe, we must go now!"

You saw his shoulders move as he took a deep breath and his intense haze was on you, examining your body from head to toe. Suddenly, your demeanor changed, and the feeling of safety was no longer there. Your body tensed, staring at his eyes only to notice the color of them, and how big his pupils were.

Then, you knew you were fucked.

In a pathetic attempt to run away, you tried to turn around, but big hands wrapped your waist and placed you against the tree. His body pressed against you, and you sensed his scent; he smelled of wet dirt and sweat, but there were still traces of his cologne in his skin; a sign that there was still a man behind those predatory eyes.

"My Lord-"

"Your smell…" he interrupts your whines, tears falling down your cheeks once again. His voice came out as low and raspy, almost in an animalistic tone that made you freeze with fear, "I could smell you from miles away, sweet doe." His nose buried in the crook of your neck, you whimpered, closing your eyes, "so inviting, so tempting… so arousing."

His tongue traveled in your soft skin, leaving a trace of saliva on you, causing chills down your spine. Your lower lip shook as you took a deep breath. Soon you were able to feel his teeth brushing against your neck, biting gently without the intention of leaving marks behind; he just wanted to taste your sweetness. But, of course, that was not enough for him.

"I wonder how you taste," he purred, his fingers collected some of the tears that had fallen down your warm face before he licked them out of his digits. A groan escaped from his lips, his eyes were closed, that tiny, little taste from you sent him over the edge. "I bet you are so sweet… your scent tells me you are."

"P-please…" You pointlessly begged him, feeling his hands going down to reach your skirts and starting to lift it up. You could've ran away, but you were frozen in that position; back against the holy tree, and your chest pressed against his.

"How dare you ask me to stop?" He scoffed, "you've been spreading the smell of your arousal around the woods, and you expect me to control myself and let you go?" He clicked his tongue, his fingers slipping between your legs until he reached your warmth. He hummed, delighted to feel some of your slick covering his thick, big fingers. "I usually hold myself back, but you have made it impossible… I'm acting as if I'm going through my rut, but in reality it's all you." He spoke, grunting as he leaned impossibly closer and his finger played with your sensitive bud. "You wanted this, did you not? You came here because you knew I was going to be here-"

"No… no, I didn't know, please!" You cried out, whimpering in the low as he rubbed his raspy fingertips against you, "I- I didn't-"

"Sh, sh…" he silenced you, his free hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled back and led you to the ground. He forced you to kneel, squeezing your throat in a subtle but demanding way, and you were too scared to even dare to go against his wishes. "You are a terrible liar, my sweet doe."

Somehow you ended up laying in the ground, your body on top of a bed of fallen leaves covered by the traces that the snow had left in them. Your back soon was wet because of the melting snow, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. Cregan forced you to spread your legs, positioning himself between them as he towered your body with his. He leaned closer and harshly bit your lip; the gesture was so careless that it made you cry out loud. However, there was no point in screaming, you were too far to be heard by someone from the town. Your only option was to close your eyes, pray and cry in silence until everything was over.

His big hands grabbed the back of your knees and forced them against your chest. The cold breeze smacked against your bare cunt and you whined due the sensation. Inevitably, you clenched your walls and he was able to perceive it, his bright, yellow eyes sparkled with the sight as he sighed. A smug smirk appeared on face, giving him a wicked look on his devilish features; such a view made you feel fear once again, but also made you sense some familiar feeling in your gut.

"Oh, fuck-" he said, shifting his position until his face was right in front lf your cunt. "Look at this… so fucking pretty."

He moved his hands, one of them was big –and strong– enough to hold your legs up. His free hand went to your folds, spreading them without shame as he took a closer look. He managed to see your little clit, already getting swollen for the stimulation he was providing you, and your hole… so eager and desperate to be filled up by him. He leaned even closer, his nose almost brushing against your pearl. He took a deep breath.

"Gods be good," he moaned. His mouth dropped open as he panted, his heavy breathing smacking against your wetness. Your hips twitched and you hiccuped, not even sure of what you were feeling at that moment, "just let me have a taste of you before I knot you."

Before you realized, his both hands were on your arse, his thumbs spreading your lips as his thick, warm and raspy tongue lapped onto your soaking cunt. Your eyes rolled to the back of your hand almost immediately as you tried to move away from him, but his hands were too strong and you could barely shake under his frame.

He had absolutely no shame in devouring you. His saliva dripping from his tongue and slipping down your arse as he moaned and whined against your sensitive skin. You tasted so fucking good, better than any other sweet or desert he had ever eaten before. Your soft whimpers and cries were edging him to the point where his mind felt numb with pleasure and lust. He could not help but feel the pleasuring pain growing inside his pants to such an extent that he started to cry out of the ache.

Your hands were on his hair, doing actions that did not have a clear intention; you were pulling it to keep him away from you, but at the same time, your hips could not stop following his hungry mouth. It is as if your body was asking for something you cannot quite comprehend, your lover has never pleasured in this way before… Cregan was the first person who dared to kiss such a private part of your body. It felt different, and it felt so fucking good.

Soon, your legs were wrapped around his head as he pulled your hips up. His mouth sucking on your clit and slurping your juices, your moans becoming as loud as screams. Your mind confused with the overwhelming sensation your body was experiencing, completely numb as a response for the unbeknownst feeling growing inside your belly.

Stammering, mumbling and cries were the only thing that left your mouth, for you were unable to put words together to form coherent sentences that express whatever you were feeling at the moment. It was completely new, you were feeling fire running through your veins that intensified with each movement of his skilful tongue against your folds. You felt your skin burning, sweat covering your shape as you kept struggling to move; your chest moving fastly, your nails digging in his skull, and your hips humping his face.

You melted under his arms as a sudden feeling washed you over with such an intensity that your vision became blurry. Black spots appeared in your eyes as you gasped loudly, you felt a certain relief followed by wet sounds that made Cregan whine even louder than you. His tongue collected all of your cum, seizing the sweet taste of your release as you were too numb to even realize what had just happened.

"Your cunt is so fucking wet right now," he growled. His tone made you wake up from the cloud of ecstasy you were in. It was lower, barely human. An animalistic demeanor was seen on his predatory eyes as he examined your shaky body under him. Your juices and the traces of his saliva made his chin glistened under the moonlight, such an obscene view to witness, so sinful, so shameful. "You pretend you don't like this but look at you, you came so fucking hard on my mouth, sweet doe… I want to drink from this cunt forever."

He let go of you just so his hands would reach his pants. You held your weight over your shoulders and while you looked at him struggling to get rid of the bothering fabric, you saw the perfect opportunity to attempt an escape. A stupid action, that's certain.

Your shaky legs were not much helpful as you turned to crawl away from him. Your knees being scratched by the branches on the floor as you cried your way out of that place. A big hand was wrapped around your ankle and dragged you backwards until you felt his hardened cock hitting your arse cheeks. His hands fell at each side of your hips and you cried at the impact as your arms failed to keep your body up.

Soon he grabbed a fist of your hair and pulled you back until his mouth was beside your ear. You felt his length between your folds, and he slowly started to rub against you, your poor, abused clit throbbed due to this action and a moan left your lips. You were able to perceive his anger in his heavy breathing as he tightened his grip in your hair, your head falling backwards until it was against his shoulder.

"Don't you dare to do that again," he whispered in your ear, his voice growling, so raspy that it did not even feel human anymore. "Don't make me hurt you, sweet doe."

You felt your nose itching as the tears started to escape from your eyes, though you were confused about the reason behind them. Pleasure, pain, fear. All emotions that overwhelmed your senses and confused your mind as Cregan's hands touched your body without shame at all. Such a devilish act had you wondering what you have done to deserve it, or if your lover will ever forgive you for this adulterous sin.

"I'm going to make you mine," he said, "I'm going to fill you with my cum and make you my mate and you will take it."

"P-please, no…" you mumbled, sobbing already as he kept fucking your thighs. "J-just let me- let me go, please."

"Why would I do that?" He asked, his words being followed by a moan, "I've tasted you already, my sweet thing… How am I supposed to let you go after I've become addicted to the way you taste? To the way your sweet cries beg me to keep going. Oh, my doe, you're asking me something completely impossible."

"I won't tell anyone, please… please, m-my lord-"

A loud chuckle was heard, echoing in the open space and causing you shivers down your spine. You soon felt his fat, thick head brushing against your drenching entrance and he slowly started to push inside of your tight walls. Your eyes widened as his thick cock spreaded your insides in such a painful way that made your mouth drop open for the intrusion.

"S-stop!" You yelped, trying to move your hips away, but his hips were impossibly strong, "It hurts! Please, stop!"

"Sh, sh… it's okay," he cooed, his voice shaking and unsteady, "just take it, doe, feel my cock spreading you open… Your cunt is so fucking tight."

"S-so big… Gods!" You cried out. "Please!"

"It's okay," he repeated, using the same tone as before. Hisses leaving his lips as he sinks deeper into you, "you need to get used to me, sweetling. I plan to fuck this little pussy every day from now on."

Your eyes clenched shut as he pushed harder until you were able to feel his heavy sack against your skin. Cregan pushed your head down until your cheek was pressed against the dried leaves in the ground. Your arse up in the air gave him the perfect view of your tight hole greedily receiving his cock. You would say it hurted you, but your cunt was taking him so well, eager for more.

He started to move, slowly at first, he wanted to make sure you were able to feel every inch of his pulsing cock, every vein in it. Your walls would squeeze him tightly, clenching around him everytime he would bury himself inside you. Your mouth remained open, and your eyes remained closed. He was filling you up so well.

The sound of your wetness was heard even when your moans were getting louder. It was such an obscene view, the way he would slowly pound against you just so he can watch how your creamy cunt left his length soaking with your juices. His eyes were fixated on that part of your body, bewitched by the scene, completely lost in the feeling and the rush of lust running through his veins. His big hands spreaded your arse cheeks just so he can have a better view; his animalistic side took over him as soon as he saw your tight hole greedily clenching, as if it was begging to be filled too.

His nails dug into the skin of your hips, and soon his thrust became harder. He kept the same velocity as before, just that now he made them deeper and stronger. You started to get used to the way he would move, the fact that he started slow made you adjust to his size and actually find some pleasure in his thrust. Your hands gripped the dirt under your body as you were desperately looking for something to hold on to. His pounding getting wilder with each passing second, as if he was growing desperate to feel you again as soon as he could.

You found yourself enjoying it, and feeling guilty about it… your lover was somewhere around the woods, wandering around the acres trying to discover something new. But then something happened, the mere thought of him finding you like this, with Cregan's cock buried in the deepest spot of your cunt, make you drool and clench around the man that was restlessly fucking you. Cregan hummed as your walls tightened around him, and that would only make him go faster.

"You finally are starting to enjoy this, aren't you, my doe?" he teased, squeezing the soft skin of your arse before slapping it, "I'm gonna make you my sweet little mate, darling, I'm never going to get tired of fucking this tiny little hole of yours."

"Mhm… I- I…" you intended to say something, but nothing would come out, he fucked you dumb.

"I'm going to breed you, sweet thing, I'll- fuck," he interrupted his words with a loud groan as he looked down, "I'll make sure to fill you up with my seed every fucking night until you're swollen with my pups."

The way he spoke to you, so shamelessly and unhinged, made you get even more aroused. The thought of being used by him once again stopped making you feel scared, and started to make you feel excited. Your mind sent you images of how good it would feel to have his load dripping from your cunt. But you were not supposed to be enjoying this, you were supposed to be scared, screaming out of fear, not pleasure. This was so wrong.

But it felt so fucking good.

"I will knot you, I will claim you as mine forever," he panted, fastening his pace to an animalistic speed. "I will claim this delicious cunt of yours every fucking night only to make you remember to whom you belong to."

"Yes…" you softly said, barely audible. But Cregan was able to hear it, and that only made him go harder, faster, deeper.

"Yes?" He chuckled, a moan escaping his lips soon after, "Say it."

You drooled under his touch, moaning uncontrollably loud as he kept moving without stopping any second. The sound of your bodies slapping against each other grew louder, both of you were consumed by the desire and lust that you did not care for anything anymore. Your mind went foggy again, and the same feeling was installed in your gut as you desperately tried to move your hips against his.

"Say it!" he repeated, thrusting harder. His sack smacking against your clit, adding more stimulation that made your legs shake.

"Please…" you managed to say, a thin, weak voice that was barely heard. "Oh! Gods, yes!"

"Look how desperate you are for my knot now, my sweet doe," he mockingly laughed, breathing heavily and grunting, "I knew you wanted this as much as I did."

"F-fill me…" you cried out, your cheek bruised with the movement against the rough dirt under you, "oh, yes! yes, please!"

"You're mine now, remember that, little one."

Those were his last words before he started to moan and groan as loud as you. His sweet and obscene sounds were making you wetter, your slick falling to the ground as you felt the head of his thick cock kissing your insides each time he would bury himself in you. He managed to find that sweet spot inside of you, and once his moans turned higher, you felt him stretching you even more.

You froze as you felt him spreading you so much that you thought it would rip you apart. The delicious mixture between the pain and pleasure made you come undone almost immediately; your cum gushing out of your cunt as your vision became blurry and your whole body shook. You soaked him completely, even staining your dress in the process. The pleasure was overwhelming, like flames wrapping your body and making it burn.

It became worse, because Cregan was too focused on searching for his own release that he did not realize how overstimulated you were. You bit your lip so hard that drops of blood fell down on it, Cregan's length going in and out of your abused cunt as rolled his eyes and gasped loudly.

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of his cum painting your walls as you mewled under him. Your hips were still twitching, your legs shaking, and your face soaked with tears of genuine pleasure. Cregan thrust a few times before his knot swelled so much that he was not able to move anymore. Your lower belly had a bump now, as strings of his release filled your insides. You felt so good.

"Take it all," he grunted, "you're mine now, you belong to me…"

He leaned over, leaving soft and careful kisses on your clothed back as his hands roamed around your trembling body. Your dress was still covering those parts of your body, but you were still able to feel how hot his skin was. He was burning, and you were melting in his arms. He started to whisper soft words, but some of them were almost impossible to understand. His soft touch was a big contrast to his prior actions, but you were not complaining.

"So good," he praised you, "so fucking good. You took me so well, such a good little girl you are."

"M-my lord…" you tiredly said, your eyes closing by themselves as a sudden tiredness washed over your body.

"Sh, don't say anything…" he cooed to you, "just go to sleep, my sweet doe, I'll keep you safe forever."

And for some reason, you believed him. The last thing you felt before passing out, was Cregan pulling out, and his seed quickly falling down from you.

Inevitably, and drunk by pleasure, you smiled.

#cregan x reader #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan stark x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd au #hotd smut #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house stark #house of the dragon

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year

Note

Hello! Do you have any advice/resources on how to write sounds? Speaking and singing in particular but also maybe sounds at different volumes and sounds that could be considered "noise."

Describing Sounds Using Sound Words

Description of sound is all about knowing sound-related vocabulary. Here's a mini-list to get you started, but you can do some research to learn more. Also, be sure to look up these words before using them to make sure they're right for the context.

High Volume - blaring, blasting, booming, bray, din, deafening, ear-piercing, ear-popping, earsplitting, full volume, loud, pealing, roaring, sonorous, thundering, thunderous

Low Volume - buzz, faint, gentle, hushed, low, muffled, murmur, muted, peaceful, quiet, soft, subdued, whisper

Noise - cacophony, clamor, clatter, commotion, discord, disquiet, fracas, hullabaloo, racket, ruckus, uproar Pitch and Tone - atonal, discordant, dulcet, harmonic, harsh, high-frequency, low-frequency, mellow, resonant, sonic, soprano, tenor, timbre

Rhythm - beat, cadence, flow, lilt, lyrical, measured, melodic, metered, monotone, pulsing, staccato, stutter, tempo

Sounds - babble, bang, bark, beep, belch, boom, burble, burp, chirr, chirp, clack, clatter, clang, clank, click, clink, clip-clop, clomp, crackle, crash, creak, ding, echo, groan, gurgle, hiss, hoot, hum, jangle, jingle, kerplunk, howl, melodic, mewl, moan, murmur, patter, pitter-patter, peal, plop, pop, purr, rattle, roar, rumble, rustle, screech, shriek, sizzle, splash, splat, swoosh, squawk, squeak, strum, thud, thrum, thump, wail, whimper, whinny, whine, whir, whistle, whiz, yelp, yowl, zing How to Research Sounds - If you're struggling to describe the sound of a particular thing, like "thunder," go to Google and type in, "how to describe the sound of thunder" and look for inspiration. You can also search for things like "horse sounds" or "what sounds do cars make?"

Also, two previous posts specific to describing the sound of singing and music:

Describing Music How to Describe a Singing Voice

I hope that helps!

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circeyoru · 2 months

Text

His Killer = Requested

[Alastor x Male Hunter!Reader] - No romance or platonic element

The Request

“My good sir, may I have some of your time?”

You paused in your walk with an old friend, seeing her shiver under the threatening gaze of the Radio Demon. You sent her off to meet you somewhere else before turning to the red themed demon. Your beedy glowing white eyes pierced through the eyeholes of your deer skull mask. “Alastor, what do you want?”

Alastor played his his staff as he hummed a tune, his eyes darting to the sides to where lower ranked demons were roaming around. “A bit of your time and an ear to listen, my fellow. It’s a talk I’ve dying to get across or clear up, as you can understand.”

You checked your phone, noting the time before nodding in agreement. At your consent, Alastor brought the two of you to a restaurant. The demons inside all scrambled to move away from your table, some even jumping out the window at the two Overlords that came in leisurely. It was a common sight. If there was merely one, demons would be wary, but two. Oh, everyone has to be careful or they can steer clear of the area to avoid a painful ‘death’.

The two of you took your seats, the waiter coming to take your orders and leave a glass of water before leaving, stating that the food will be ready in a moment. It’ll take a while since they’d want to ensure perfection to avoid the wrath of not one but two Overlords.

“I’ll get straight to the point. Dear friend.” Alastor started when a silence moment between you two pass. His eyes stared at you as he observed an sudden movements to catch you off guard. “You are my killer.” You merely sipped your water and let him continue. “I’m sure it was an accident, it was the dead of night and deer season! Oh, the accidents that happened from misfires and wrongful shots. Sadly, it led to my death at your hands! Haha!”

Alastor was digging a hole in the forest. Using the cloak of darkness and his familiarity of the forest to his advantage for his nighty activities. But he was also taking a risk. It was now deer hunting period, many hunters would be out and about to hunt deers at night. There could be potential witness or body finders. Though he was confident that no one would be able to point the blame at his direction.

His head snapped up at the sound of a gunshot so close it grazed his arm as pain came that made him drop his shovel. He looked over to the direction where he heard the cocking of a shotgun, he also heard the sniffing of dogs. He looked to the dead body then back in that same direction. He couldn’t let the dogs or the hunter know there was a body. So he ran in another direction to lead them away from the crime scene.

As quick as he took to running, he regretted it. He made him look like a prey fearful of being hunted. He heard the sharp whistle before the howlings of the hunting dogs and the sound of them running at him. He twisted and weaved through the tree, but he knew it was not enough to out manuever the pack of dogs and their keen senses. If he lead them to a clearing, then he could appeal to the hunter to stop the ‘hunt for a deer’ and call it a misunderstanding.

“Ahh!” Alastor heard another shot before he felt the pain at his shoulders. He slowed down, the dogs caught up. Rows of sharp canine teeth biting into his chest. “Wait, I’m not—!” Another came at his back, knocking him down on his stomach. He tried to shake them off or pushing them away from him, but the more he moved the more the bite force in his fresh. Like he was a piece of meat. “Retched beast!”

The last thing he remembered hearing was the outfit of the owner of the hunting dogs and the hunter of this chase. A gun pointed at him. The shadows clouded the hunter’s judgment, he could tell, the tree branches made it seem like anthers of a deer and it was the season to hunt such weak prey. He was down, tagged to the ground by the dogs.

One last attempt, “Wa—!”

Bang!

“Quite the chase, I’ve long forgotten the feeling of fear, you see. I should have been acting more quick on my feet and talk instead of taken off running!” Alastor spoke again, recalling that fateful night so long ago. He looked over to you, seeing you as calm and collected as always. “I hold no grudge against you, merely wanting to confirm with you as you are a fellow Overlord! Haha.”

“It was no accident.” Your words cut through the carefree atmosphere Alastor had established.

There was an uncomfortable aura around your tables while the servers quickly placed the correct and perfect orders down on your table before bowing and leaving like the wind.

You pulled your plate nearer to your side, cutting into the piece of meat and watched dully as the blood oozed out. You cut a smaller piece and chewed on it, glancing over to see Alastor frozen a bit but then laughed. “Oh, you jester, you.”

“I am not jesting.” You stated firmly once more. You watched as Alastor’s eyes blacked and hi shadows twisting. But you continued. “It was suicidal for me to point you as the active serial killer in town, you have so much bodies piled up, I don’t think you remember killing a lovely child that was mine. I’ll admit, you were charming, but your effect is only advantageous to you if your target isn’t aware of your true nature.”

You followed Alastor into the woods, bringing your trained dogs into the forest as well. You waited a while until he stopped moving to do the unthinkable act. Your hands clutched your shotgun till your knuckles were white. Which poor soul was his victim this time, you wondered. You’ll put an end to it tonight. No more victims. The devil of New Orleans is returning back to the burning hell tonight.

When the opportunity came, you fired at his arm as a warning shot for him to run. As expected he ran away from the body. You whistled and commanded your hounds to track Alastor down while you approached the body, matching down the location with a bright red ribbon before you followed after the running devil. You’d stop at a safe distance to fire another shot, this time at his shoulder. You watched as your hounds tackled Alastor to the ground.

Stepping forward, you revealed yourself. No doubt Alastor and you would meet in Hell. You wouldn’t even want him to have the satisfaction of trying to manipulate the hunter that killed the devil. So you fired again. Right in the middle of his forehead without hearing him out.

“My, my, what did I do to deserve your hatred?” Alastor questioned, his eyes curious but also controlled as he pushed down the urge to lash out. If you weren’t an Overlord, he’d tear you limb from limb and broadcast your screams for every wretched pest in Hell to hear.

But you were feared for your own reason. Unlike him, you built your reputation on the creatures you summoned to do your bidding he’d bet it was those hounds you so loved and had mulled him to death before your killing shot came. Your powers were pecuilar and strong, even without counting the contracted souls, you had an army ready to call out and capable of wiping out an entire district. You were that powerful and dangerous.

You ignored the questioned and spoke your thoughts or recounting your memories.

“I brought your killings to light. Showed the people what their famous beloved radio host did behind closed doors. The town was livid with the truth, you see. They burnt down your home, destroyed your workplace.” You paused a bit, eying him with your half-lid eyes, not that he could tell. “They tried to destroy your mother’s tomb.”

Bang! Cling! Clang!

Your eyes followed yours and his meal and all the other items on the table falling to the ground from Alastor’s actions. With a blink, your eyes were back to the deer demon in front of you.

Alastor’s black antlers grew as his form enlarged, appearing more threatening as he growled at you. Static accompanied his rage, “What. Did. You. Just. Say?”

“I thought it was disrespectful to the dead. She wouldn’t like my actions and I thought it was the best I could somewhat atone. I protected your mother’s gravesite and directed them to your father’s. I’m sure you don’t mind.”

Alastor froze. He was still enraged by the audacity those people had. His mother was nice and kind, if she knew of his killings, she’s persuade him to stop. All because she was a gentle soul. Why else did he remove the arrogant father of his for the two of them. He took his seat and relaxed, clearing his throat as he stated. “I supposed I owe you some form of gratitude. However, none of it would have happened if you didn’t purposefully kill me. If what you imply was that it was an intentional murder.”

You wiped your mouth, discarding the napkin to the side without a care. You uncrossed your legs and got up, coldly stated as your hounds appeared behind you to bear their fangs at the demon in red. “None of it would have happened if you didn’t kill my daughter.”

Note: Let me know if you guys like this story format as well!

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #His Killer

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

Imagine a toon Yan going full awooga, like eyes coming out, tongue rolling out, kinds hilarious if you ask me

Imagine - You're just getting home after a long day out and in need of some wind down time. A shower feels like the best way to start off your night. You turn on the tv for some background ambience. It's that same cartoon your television has been on whenever you power it on again- Should be fine. You begin to take off your clothes when suddenly -

"Awooga!"

You look around the room - TV your final destination. The voice was louder than you had it set, and it didn't have that subtle crunch older shows tended to have. The main character sits fast asleep beneath a tree. You think nothing of it and go back to undressing, peal off your top-

You jump as a sharp whistle pierces through the quiet air - followed by panting and what sounds like someone howling while stomping their foot against the ground. Once again, you look at the tv, but it's the same image as before. You turn your attention on the window. Someone had to be out there. You throw your shirt back on and march over.

"Aw, just when things were gettin' good too."

You stop in your tracks. That voice. You've definitely heard it before. Sprinting back over to the TV, your finger shoots for the button; wanting to test the theory in mind but also preventing the whatever outcome lie in wait if it were true. In the worse turn of events, the impossible fear you held was proven real as a hand reaches from the screen and grabs your wrist.

"What's the rush, gorgeous? All this time we've spent together and you're shy about undressing in front of little ol me? I'm flattered - honestly, but you'll see soon enough how close we are. Before that - need a little assistance?"

#Toon yan #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere oneshot #tw yandere

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twst-drabbles · 9 months

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Azul and Kalim 1

Summary: Kalim wanted to see you feed the little guppy Azul.

(I like writing about Kalim. What a bright little light he is. Also, my brain pan is so empty. Someone, throw in ideas in my ask box to stir my brain up!)

Out of all the people for Azul to eventually get used to, you are honestly kind of shocked that it was Kalim. While you would describe him as hyper, Kalim still has this aura about him that deters those that like the calm and quiet. Azul happens to be that kind of creature, and yet…

“Might want to turn down the staring a bit, Kalim,” you lightly knocked on Kalim’s cheek, causing him to retract, but not by much, “Azul gets nervous easily.”

As though to prove you wrong, Azul, on your lap on top of a wet towel, gave a high pitched howl. You blinked. Azul’s certainly louder than usual. Well, you can understand. You have a variety of platters on the table. You’re not really spoiling, this was all on Kalim. His curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to see how Azul eats.

“Haha! Azul sounds so hungry,” Kalim laughed, leaning an elbow on the table, face resting against his hand. “I didn’t know he could make sounds like that.”

Azul tried to reach the table’s edge, but he falls much too short to reach, so all he could do was stretch out as far as he could. When he was about to roll forward, you caught him and set him up against your belly.

“I didn’t know either. I guess we learn something new every day,” you smiled, breathing out a laugh. Azul makes all sorts of noises but rarely do you hear ones of impatience. You generally know his moods and what to get him before he gets to that point.

You stabbed a fork into some grilled salmon and stuffed it in Azul’s open mouth before he can whistle again. His little eyes grew wide, the flavors likely hitting his tongue before scarfing the fish down. His cheeks bulged as he chewed. Azul’s tentacles writhed about in a cute little dance as he swayed from side to side, clearly enjoying himself.

“So, does he like the food I got him?” Kalim leaned in, smiling, fully knowing well the answer.

You closed your eyes as wretched the fork from Azul’s grasp. “Careful not to get him too much. He might want to move in with you.”

“Hmm,” Kalim tilted his head, as though entertaining the thought before shaking his head, “Nah, I don’t think that’ll happen. No pet wants to make their owner sad, right? And I don’t want to make you sad too.”

You chuckled as you playfully pushed Kalim on the shoulder. “Don’t be so mushy, Kalim. I’m feeding Azul.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #octavinelle #azul #azul ashengrotto #scarabia #kalim #kalim al asim #reader insert #house pet au

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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year

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Can’t Lose Family / Joel Miller Imagine

Request: Joel request- him helping Reader get her medications and she repays him with a kiss even though they aren't together?

This turned into a much cuter found family fic than I meant it too lmao but also sorry not sorry @miraclesabound!!

Warning: strong language, fighting infected, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of what happens with Sam and Henry, mentions of blood, and mentions of Sarah!

This one’s pushing 4,000 words lads which has to be my longest one shot - I spent all day writing this, so if you enjoyed please support me by commenting and reblogging!

(I do not own the Last of Us or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @manny-jacinto.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

If you found one more goddamn empty first aid kit, you were going to tear a clicker’s head clean off its stupid mushroom neck.

It hadn’t been an easy journey even getting to this point. Despite Ellie’s numerous protests, snide looks, and even grabs at your jacket with a ‘questioning your sanity’ kind of look, you and Joel had both agreed that a supermall was the best next place to look for the specific kind of medication you needed.

‘It’s the only place left in this state we haven’t already scoured’, he had muttered from in front of you, pulling up Callus’ reigns and bringing the horse to a sudden halt. The building seemed to loom up from the corner of your eyes like a shooting spore; beams of light seemed to light up its cracks, spraying dust upwards through the shattered windows and clawed bricks until they flew out and danced across the sky. It whistled with every blow of wind, grumbled and heaved with the weight of its walls, howled with the furious screeches of the horde of infected that vacated the forgotten premises.

From where she was sandwiched between the two of you, Ellie managed to squeeze her head out past Joel’s shoulder and scoff. Your grip on her shoulders tightened as she tried to turn her head back to throw you an averse scowl. ‘If you guys go in there and make it back in one piece’, her words are jolted by her nose face planting into the back of Joel’s jacket, Callus rearing up his front legs and whinnying at the piercing cry of what sounded to be a recently turned runner convulsing about in horrendous pain. You straightened her back up on the saddle, and she let you wrap your arms around the top of her stomach to keep her balanced. ‘I swear, I’ll eat my backpack.’

Joel just looked past his shoulder to give her a bemused look.

‘Still would be better than having to hear another one of them lines from your joke book.’ Ellie slapped him on the shoulder, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she was looking down at the sprouting shoots breaking through the strewn concrete on the road to hide her growing smile. ‘Shut up old man. You can never escape Will Livingstone.’

You tapped Ellie’s shoulder, and when she turned to see the mischievous glint in your eye, she nodded with a grin. ‘Hey Joel’, you started, waiting for his grunt reply. ‘Do you know the last place I went before the outbreak was too a zoo?’

‘Is that so’, he sighs, not even bothering to turn his head with the foresight to realise where this was going. Hearing Ellie snicker into her hand, her other clutching into his shoulder with anticipation also brought some clarity. ‘Yeah, the only animal there was a dog. It was a Shizu. Get it? Get it, a Shit-zo-’. Joel just gave a groan that erupted from the pit of his stomach, pretending not to laugh as Ellie erupted into giggles, throwing her head back against your chin.

Joel gazed forward, looking out past the large stretch of empty highway and over the impending treeline speckled in the distance towards the swirl of dull pink and sweet lavender that had begun to transfigure the sky. ‘Yeah, see, this is the problem’, he grunted, ‘maybe being a runner wouldn’t be so bad.’ He couldn’t hide the fact that he was beginning to grin too.

Ellie snorted, and waved her hand out towards the upcoming building. ‘Well if you go in there, I think your wish will come true.’ Her words brought a fresh wave of silence over the three of you; the kind of forlorn, contemplative stillness that hadn’t shrouded itself over your little makeshift family since you all lost Sam and Henry-. You shuddered, not wanting to go back there anymore. It had been hard enough burying them, let alone trying to deal with the solitude of Ellie’s guilt and the barricading walls Joel had thrown back up at even the mention of the too small grave. It had been hard, the last few weeks, and you didn’t want the people you loved most in this derelict world to fall back into a hopelessness you had fought so hard to drag them out of.

You didn’t miss the way Joel had glanced back down at his watch though, his face hardening as he steered Callus on.

‘It will be alright, Ellie’, you patted her shoulder and winced as the sound of more infected began to ring out through the dusk and pierce your ears. Ellie shook: not with fear of them, but with terror at the thought that it could take just one wrong move, one wrong moment in this life for her to be left alone again. To be left behind. To lose everyone she loved, yet again.

But she was brave, and strong, and ready to fight for every scrap she had in spite of the world’s indifference. ‘I know,’ was all she whispered as the three of you came to a stop in front of the mall’s perimeter. The resignation didn’t last too long, though; as soon as Joel had given you his hand to help you down onto the curb, Ellie had started up again at the groans of the building’s floors constricting with the cold.

As Joel had given you a boost up past the half-blown brick wall leaking frost out from the west side of the building, Ellie had thrown her hands up in disgust. ‘Fine!’, she grabbed Callus’ reigns and led him over to a bent piece of iron fence at the edge of the perimeter. ‘If either of you fuckers decide to become infected, I’m gonna kick your shins!’ Even with the crossed arms and huff that followed, when you turned your head to look back at her, she had given you a silent, pleading nod warning you to both come back in one piece. With a final reassuring smile in her direction, you had left the girl stroking Callus’ back, and leant down to heave Joel over into the grave darkness.

The first thing you heard was the sound of sneakers pounding through the walls, the huffing and sliding of about ten bodies coming running towards you. Drawing out your knife from your back pocket, you readied yourself for the oncoming onslaught, but it never arrived. Instead, you were blinded by the sudden flash of gunfire as Joel stepped in front of you, using himself to shield himself from the infected unhinging their mouths and running into the gunfire. Only when he was sure the last one had stopped twitching on the ground did he lower his gun and turn to look at you, raging frenzy clear in his eyes.

Yet he was so gentle. So, so gentle with you. He clicked on his torch and clipped it onto the lapel of Frank’s old plaid shirt, stained once again with the scent of blood. He reached out a hand towards you, chest heaving as he turned his back to the litter of bodies now staining the linoleum floor.

‘Are you- are you alright?’ He didn’t know exactly what to do, bless him. So unsure as to how, or if he should show affection anymore. His face fell stern as he looked you up and down, yet his fingers itched against his thighs and clawed at his jeans, as if he were desperate to touch you and make sure himself. You reached out to him with one arm, and he tenderly took your wrist within his fingers. He couldn’t quite bring himself to hold your hand yet, to allow himself that sort of vulnerability, to ever give in to that sort of familiarity with another person again, but it was a step in the right direction.

‘Are you okay?’ The question was more desperate now, more sober, and the most genuine reflection of his pounding heart as he flipped your hand over and used his pointer finger to check your pulse. Sometimes, when the three of you got into tough scraps, it would be the only thing that could bring him back from that fear induced rage. You pretended not to feel his thumb shake against your wrist bone, instead nodding and dragging your fingers down to squeeze his own. ‘Let’s keep going. Ellie will be freaking out by now.’

‘Yes, I am! What the fuck was that!’, you heard echoing in from outside, the alarm in Ellie’s voice filling the vacuous hallway.

Joel managed to huff out a laugh, before shouldering his gun back round his side and nodding at you. He swallowed thickly, but even as you brushed past him to head further towards the shops, you could see how desperately he was scrunching his lips to try and push away the worry that flickered in his eyes.

And now? After all that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You kick the empty case clear half way across the store, grunting in victory as you hear it smash against the legs of a frayed mannequin and toss it down onto the floor. An ash cloud of dust sprays up at the movement, making Joel cross his arm in front of his mouth and hack a cough as he’s sprayed in white.

‘We still haven’t tried the door behind the counter.’

‘Joel, we’ve tried every damn door in the country. Plus, it’s sealed shut, and I don’t see you packing any shivs to open it.’ You sigh and squat down to the ground, holding your head in your hands for a second. You only open them once you realise the thudding sound you hear is Joel moving over towards the back wall of the pharmacy, straight towards where a huge mass of spasming, bloated fungi seems to be pulsating on the wall.

‘Are you out of your damn mind?’, you seethe, as Joel reaches into his backpack to strap his gas mask on.

‘On the contrary, I seem to be the only one in this room with any sense.’ Although his words seem to bite, you can hear the mocking tone drip through the crinkled words as they rasp out past the ventilator. Joel joins you in squatting down to the floor, although his movement is done a lot less gracefully and with a lot more complaining about sore joints. He moves the light away from where its strewn over the floorboards to land straight in the middle of the heaving mess, and the sight nearly makes you gag in shock.

‘Ugh, Jesus’, Joel mutters, his face contorting in disgust as he clenches his fist open and closed in preparation. The figure clenched into the wall in front of him was barely recognisable: it’s drooping face was now sprouting from behinds its eyelids, mouth open as if in a never-ending frozen scream, its lab coat caked in dried old blood that seemed to suggest he wasn’t the only one to die in this dank room. ‘Well, here goes nothing.’ Tentatively inching his hand forward, Joel waits for the poor bastard to come tearing off the wall and clamp its three teeth left around his fingers. Thankfully, both for his sake and your heart, which had decided to start pounding through your ears, Joel is successful in inching the infected’s hand out of the way. He reaches into the breast pocket, sighing in relief and turning towards round to your expectant face.

Perched between his thumb and pointer finger is the rusted tip of a key.

‘Bingo’, he whistles as he stands up, stretching out his back and clicking his spine back into place. You shake your head as he heads off, following him round the counter edge and butting him out of the way once he reaches the back door. Shaking the handle one more time for good measure, you nab the key out of his hand and ignore the cry of indignation he gives you.

‘It’s my stuff we need, so I go first. Those are the rules.’

You slot the key into the lock and give it a firm twist.

‘Absolutely not.’ You nearly jump when you feel Joel’s hand firmly clamp down on top of your own, effectively trapping you against the doorknob. You glare over at him, but feel the bitter remark you were about to whip out about how ‘he always puts himself in danger before me or Ellie’ dies on the tip of your tongue when you see how scared he looks.

‘I go first.’ You tut. The grip on your hand grows firmer. His breath hitches as he bends and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close now, you can feel the rapid air escape his nose and brush over the side of your cheek. For a moment, neither of you are able to move; you’re both caught in some invisible entanglement, some building consequence the two of you have never been brave enough to breach before, some kind of tender understanding. You nod your head, realising now just how earnestly the two of you had been dancing around it: how the whole time you had known each other, one was always preparing to die for the other.

‘Please...I go first.’ His gaze drops to your lips, and then to your nose, and then finally settles, for the first time in a while, firmly on your eyes. Unwavering. Resolute. He lurches forward on the balls of his feet, and for a second you think he’s either about to headbutt you or kiss you. Instead, he gently uses his side to butt you out of the way, before turning his efforts to shouldering the door open in three abrupt pushes.

He lurches in, the door giving way before he expected it and taking his feet out from under him. He rolls to the floor, grunting with the effort as he nearly side rolls straight into the side of an empty rack of shelves. With the light in the musty room as bright as a grave, you’re left trying to figure out where Joel has gone by the sound of an empty pill bottle rolling across the room.

‘Joel? Joel! Where the fuck are you?’, you whisper, reaching your arms out and crouching down to try and find him in the darkness. ‘Shit, is that you? Are you alright?’ You grip onto something soft and squishy, Joel’s leg? It seems clad in denim, although slightly torn, as if he had skinned his whole knee slamming against the floor.

You realised your mistake only a second too late. Instead of the welcome, gravelly honey voice of one Joel Miller, and perhaps even the calloused fingers cupping your cheeks before taking your own to lurch himself back up, you were met by the spitting shriek straight into your face. ‘Oh, fuck!’

You roll backwards, slamming the back of your head straight into an iron railing. ‘Oh, doubley fu-’ Your shout is muffled by fingernails scraping over your forehead, a hand grasping onto your face and digging in until you could feel blood begin to run down the bridge of your nose. Grappling with your hand, you simultaneously try to pitch your knee up to stop the clicker from completely detaching from the wall and clambering on top of you, and wrestling past its bumpy elbow to reach the knife stuck behind your back. Gnashing teeth leaves drool dripping down onto your neck, and you groan with the effort of trying to stop them from tearing a chunk out of your jugular.

You finally manage to grasp onto the hilt of your knife, trying to lift up your backside to slide it out of your pocket and straight into the skull of the infected on top of you. It doesn’t matter though. A second later, it feels as if molten is being poured in gushes down onto your bare skin; you stifle a shudder as the blood leaks out from the clicker’s eye sockets and sprays over your shoulder blades. You squint, just about managing to make out the outline of Joel’s clenched teeth and furrowed brow as he pulls the crowbar he had managed to find out of the thing’s skull. Pushing it to the side, it flops unceremoniously onto the floor.

‘Jesus...’, you warble out, still slightly in shock that you had come so close to the end right there and then. So clumsily close. So stupidly.

Joel doesn’t give you a chance to finish your thought. You swear it must have hurt when he threw himself down onto the ground, not even pretending to be calm and collected as he comes sliding on his knees over to you.

‘Are you hurt?’

‘H-huh?’

His hands are shaking as they reach up to roam over your face, his movements rapid and rushed and so carelessly unlike him that it only winds you deeper into your confused stupor. Before this - sure, he may have been concerned, but it was always hidden behind a thick wall of confidence and level headedness. But this, this was different. He was gripping onto the sides of your face as if the skin was about to peel away from your body in front of him; he was trembling in the way only a man marred by ghosts could be. As the flashlight blinked across the floor, the glass smashed into fractured shoots by Joel’s fall, all his mind can see with each glare is Sarah suspended in front of him.

‘Are you hurt?’ His voice is shaking as he speaks, tilting your face back and forth as if he’s scanning you for any scrabs and bites, yet his fingers are moving too quickly to truly take any of you in.

‘I’m fine, I’m fine. I just, ah-’, you cup his hands and bring them to rest within your own, both of you using each other’s weight to try and lever yourselves to a standing position again. ‘I think my ankle is twisted slightly.’ You watch his eyes widen, and try your best to shoot him a reassuring smile despite how shaken you were feeling. ‘It’s alright, it’ll be fine once I shake it off. Especially since I see another med-pack over there.’ You let go of one of his hands to point past his shoulder, finally coming back to yourself when you spot another plastic box hanging, squished in between the pharmacist's desk and the wall.

Despite the elated glow that seems to suddenly gleam in your eyes as you hobble over bits of broken glass and clamber over the smashed up computer monitor, Joel doesn’t let go of you the whole way. Not even when you unclasp the lock and throw the lid back, tilting your head back and laughing in near hysteric delight when you see the full bottles still nestled in dust inside. They move from your hands, up your arms and around your shoulders, squeezing your biceps as the two of you make your way quietly back through the supermall and back out towards the hole to freedom.

‘Fuck me! I thought you guys were gonners for sure!’ For a second, as you glanced out and saw Ellie bent over with her hands on her hips with the relief of seeing the two of you dumbasses hobble back into view, you thought the young girl was going to collapse to the ground. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned back to you with a surprisingly serious look on her face. ‘Did you find any comics in there?!’

‘Are you kidding-’ Joel murmurs out with a huff, waving his hand at her in dismissal. Ellie only raises her hand in a shrug before flipping him off, but the two of them are both smiling as Joel offers you his hand. You take it easily, but before you drop down to the grass again, you surprise Joel Miller for about the third time that day.

Before he even has a chance to blink, you lean towards him and press your lips against the side of his stubbly cheek. His eyes widen, but even as you press a second, quicker kiss against his cheek, he seems too stoic to pull away. When you finally do, he raises two fingers up to the wet patch now gleaming on his skin, and looks at you with a rapturous confusion.

‘Thank you. For everything. For still being here’, is all you whisper with a final look back at him, before falling down through the sliver of dark orange that still falls like firelight between the breaks in the pine trees. Ellie welcomes you back energetically, nearly knocking you over with the speed in which she comes running towards you and wraps her arms around your midriff, squishing the side of her face into your chest.

Joel watches the two of you for a moment: the way Ellie looks up at you as if you were pure unbridled hope as she unlatches herself from you, the way you grab her hand and help her hop back up onto Callus’ back, coming to rest on the side of the saddle before animatedly falling into conversation with her, most likely checking up to make sure she was doing okay with all of this.

He blinks back the wistfulness from his eyes as he stands on the stone strewn crag of the building, the soft ground suddenly seeming so far away. As he watches you, he tries to figure out what he feels: love? Longing? Guilt? Before he even notices, he finds his gaze has drawn itself back down to his wrist, the shattered clock face seemingly staring him down and stifling whatever happiness he was trying to feel.

He covers it with his hands, rubbing his fingers over the side as if it were burning his skin and he couldn’t bear to carry the weight of it anymore. But then you call over to him, and Ellie waves her hand up and beckons him to come down with a bright grin and yell, and suddenly the heaviness seems to unburden, to unlatch its grip on his stomach.

Sure, the misery of his past still haunted him, still dragged behind his head as he jumped and landed on the ground with a thump. But as he slowly jogged back over to the two of you, the shadows were beginning to lift. The light was beginning to break through, and Joel Miller couldn’t remember feeling so bullishly light in all his life.

#the last of us #tlou hbo #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #the last of us hbo #tlou #pedro pascal #tlou imagine #tlou hbo imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us hbo imagine #ellie williams #joel tlou #joel tlou imagine #joel the last of us #joel the last of us imagine #x reader

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obaex · 9 months

Text

see you in my nightmares - rafe cameron

summary: rafe is forced to make a decision that will alter the course of your future together, but how long can he live with the consequences of his actions?

word count: 6k

warnings: angst!

a/n: this was originally inspired by welcome to heartbreak / kanye west and the title was inspired by another song on that album by the same name (see you in my nightmares), but honestly back to december / taylor swift just hits so hard. i am not a swiftie personally she's great, just not the biggest fan, please don't kill me but cannot i deny the fit. can y'all tell most of my inspo comes from music? 🙃

Maybe this is wishful thinking Probably mindless dreaming But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right

Present

"Here you go, Kelc, that's Henry and that's Emma" Topper said, pointing to the picture on his phone of your two children, one and three, with bright blonde hair, squealing with laughter at the beach. He continued to swipe through photo after photo of them playing in the sand, in the water, finally landing on a picture of you crouched in the sand with them, their arms and popsicle-stained fingers wrapped around your neck as they climbed on you, pressing kisses to your cheeks.

"Get out of here, Top, Henry is your mini me. Holy shit. It's kinda freaking me out, I'm not gonna lie" Kelce said. "He's gonna suck at golf too if you don't let Uncle Kelce show him a thing or two." He punched Topper playfully in the arm as Topper grimaced at him.

"Nah, in all seriousness, man, you've got it made. Your kids are beautiful and Y/N looks better than ever" he said, shooting Topper a knowing look, one eyebrow raised scandalously. "Being a Thornton looks good on her man, shiiiiittt" he said, still swiping through Topper's phone where he had landed on a picture Topper had snuck of you sprawled out in your bikini.

"Geezus, give that back!" Topper said, nearly launching himself at Kelce, reaching for the phone as Kelce held it out of his reach, inspiring a howl of laughter from the group of guys they were with. They whistled and cheered as Topper wrestled the phone out of Kelce's hands.

"I leave you assholes alone for a few years and this is what I come back to?" a deep voice cut through the chaos.

Kelce's eyes flickered to the voice. "Do my eyes deceive me or has the man, the myth, the legend come back to grace our presence gentlemen?" he said, relinquishing Topper's phone as he stood up to take in Rafe Cameron on the deck of the Island Club for the first time in three years.

Rafe looked older, more mature with his hair shaved, but his boyish grin still rested on his lips. He had grown into his lanky body, filling out a suit that was more expensive than Kelce could mentally calculate.

"Un-fucking-believeable, man!" Kelce said, launching himself to embrace Rafe as a few of the other guys also stood up to shake his hand and clap him on the back, launching a barrage of questions at him.

Topper hung back as the memory of what life was like the last time Rafe was on Kildare Island clawed its way to the forefront of his mind. He slipped his phone protectively into his back pocket.

"Don't let me interrupt" Rafe said as he noticed Topper's movement, "what was I missing?"

The atmosphere shifted noticeably as the rowdy group fell silent.

3 Years Ago

Rafe watched you through the sea of bodies in the backyard at Tanneyhill as you talked with Sarah and Wheezie at their family barbeque. He watched your eyes shimmer and your lips curve into a perfect smile as you laughed at something his sisters had said, his ears straining over the music for a chance to hear that perfect sound that made his heart dance. He took in your sundress, draped over your shoulders, sitting perfectly on your tanned skin. After almost five years together, he could never get enough of you, could never wrap his head around how beautiful you were, how lucky he was to be yours. You lifted your eyes, scanning the crowd, searching for him and when they rested on him it was like fireflies in his stomach to see your face light up for him. You looked at him with such admiration, joy and happiness. He smiled broadly at you and stood to make his way over to you just as Topper joined your group, jumping into your conversation with his sisters and stealing your attention away to offer you a big hug.

Rafe hung back for just a second longer, watching the way Topper listened to Sarah but continued to shoot sidelong glances at you that went unnoticed, eyes shifting to your profile, your sundress. Rafe knew that tactic, knew that look in Topper's eyes because it was the same damn way he looked at you. His feet were moving before he could register what he was going to say or do. He tried to gather himself as he sidled into your group and slid a hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Topper had the decency to look embarrassed as he blushed and cleared his throat before sticking his hand out. "Good to see you, man" he said.

"You too, Top" Rafe said, eyes narrowed.

The next morning, Topper was long off of Rafe's mind as he lay in bed and watched the early morning sun shine through the blinds in his room, casting spotlights of warmth on your bare back as he drank you in, thinking not just for the thousandth time how lucky he was to have you curled up beside him, tangled in his sheets that now smelled permanently like you, like a perfect summer day. His heart warmed at the sight of you. You were everything that was perfectly right in his life. He felt himself orbiting around you, drawn to you like the moon draws the tides.

You shifted slightly in your sleep, letting out a contented sigh that was both extremely cute and undeniably sexy at the same time, making him smile. His mind drifted to the ring in the velvet box stashed at the top of his closet. His heart raced at the idea of making you his. His fingers twitched, aching to run his hands over you and eventually his urge won out as he moved his fingers over your back and pulled you gently against his chest, nuzzling into your neck. You let out a sweet laugh that coated him like hot honey as you turned around and buried yourself in his chest, nuzzling him back as his warm arms wrapped snuggly around you. This is heaven on earth he thought.

Present

Topper stood, his hand outstretched, ever the gentleman, as he attempted to change the topic. "It's good to see you, Rafe, welcome back, man."

Rafe took Topper's hand in his strong grip, nodding again to Topper's phone, "well, don't leave me hanging, are you going to show me what had everyone so riled up?"

3 Years Ago

"Sit" Ward said, gesturing to one of the leather arm chairs in his office as he walked to a side table to pour two drinks.

"Dad, I can't, I'm on my way to pick up Y/N, we have reservations in 20 minutes."

"She's what I want to talk to you about, son."

His father had never offered to talk about anything that didn't have to do with work. Rafe's chest bloomed with the idea that he wanted to have a conversation about you, that Ward was finally coming to understand how important you were to him.

He placed the drink in front of Rafe without meeting his eyes. "I know about the ring" he said simply.

Rafe's head shot up at that. He didn't think anyone knew about that, purposely taking a trip to the jeweler on the mainland alone, spending an entire afternoon picking out what was just right for you. As Rafe was getting ready to ask, Ward simply held up his hand, whisking away the question in a gesture that said Of course I know, I know everything.

"Son, man to man, I'm telling you, this isn't a good idea."

"What?!" Rafe said, anger and shock roiling in him, so taken aback at where this conversation was headed he stood to his feet.

"You love her, that's plain to see, Rafe. Which is why I know you'll do the right thing. She's a good girl, Rafe, a sweet girl, she deserves someone that can give her the future she deserves. Someone with... fewer skeletons in their closet." Silence fell heavily between them as Rafe met his eyes in a cold stare. They had never spoken about Peterkin directly or indirectly since it had happened. Ward moved to his desk, pulling out what looked to be a tape recorder and pressed play. Gavin's voice rang clearly, "...He's protecting his son. It was Rafe Cameron that killed Sheriff Peterkin."

Rafe nearly dropped the glass of bourbon in his hand, managing to set it down at the last minute. "W-What are you doing with that?" he asked, gesturing manically to the tape recorder, his voice rising in panic. "Dad, what the fuck is that, what are you doing?!"

"I'm not doing anything, Rafe" he said as he slid the tape recorder back into his desk drawer. "This tape will never be played for anyone else. I want to be sure of that. I want you to help me be sure of that. I need you focused now more than ever, focused on the company, not focused on Y/N. You know what you need to do." And with that, he waved Rafe out of his office.

Rafe stumbled into the hallway, shutting the door behind him, his hands shaking as he shoved the heel of his palms into his eyes. He could feel the sweat gathering at the base of his neck as he began to pace, his mind going a mile a minute.

What Ward hadn't considered was the fact that Rafe had already told you. He'd told you everything, about his drug addiction, about Peterkin, about the darkest parts of his soul... and you had stayed with him through it all, through rehab, through recovery, through finding a way to forgive himself. But all of that was before the threat Ward had just dangled in front of him, the threat that he would ruin Rafe's future and by extension your own, that one day he could hand that recording in and you would be left alone, abandoned as Rafe spent the rest of his life in prison. "She's a good girl, Rafe, a sweet girl, she deserves someone that can give her the future she deserves." He swallowed the bile in his throat as he realized his dad was right.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he swiped it open to see an incoming text from you.

He spent several minutes thinking about how to reply before typing out, "Hey, sorry, something came up, can we reschedule?"

Present

Topper cleared his throat. If he had known Rafe was coming tonight, he wouldn't be here.

His phone burned in his pocket with the pictures of you, his wife with his children. Rafe had lost the right to ask about you 3 years ago. Rafe's gaze was on Topper, unblinking, like a dare. Topper's mind raced with an excuse, a response, another way to change the topic of conversation when his thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Topper?"

The group turned as you walked through the door, cradling your daughter in one arm and holding your son by the other hand.

Rafe's head snapped to you, drinking in the sight of you while desperately trying to piece together what was in front of him, head turning from you to Topper and back again like he was watching a tennis match only he could see.

"Guys, I am so sorry to interrupt, I know it's boys' night" you said.

Topper brushed past Rafe and walked hastily over to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Everything okay?" he asked quietly.

You continued talking to Topper, eyes trained on his face, a soft smile on your lips that Rafe swore at one time was reserved only for him. He tried to hear what you were saying but the blood in his head was rushing so loudly, it made it sound like everything around him was underwater. All he could do was stare, mouth agape, at the child in your arms and the other by your side. They looked so much like you. They had your eyes and your freckles, even the outline of your nose; it made his heart physically ache. But they also looked like Topper, especially your son who Topper had bent over to pick up and who was hugging him around his neck. The world started to spin as Rafe tugged at his collar, trying to get air in his lungs as he took in the future he would never have with you. He was desperately searching for some sort of explanation, for something that wasn't exactly what was right in front of his eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he said finally, louder than he had intended to as everyone turned to look at him.

You could hear a pin drop.

He wanted to be angry, he was angry. He thought about all the times Topper had ogled you, even when you were his. He wanted to punch Thornton so hard he would never wake up, his fists clenching in response. But more than anger, he felt a deep deep sadness and remorse that sat like an anvil on his chest. His breathing became erratic and before he could control his emotions he started to cry. To cry. He didn't even have the wherewithal to feel embarrassed, too overwhelmed by the picture of the family in front of him, the family that should have been his.

He could feel himself coming undone like buttons flying off a too-tight jacket one at a time. Plink-plink-plink.

You looked at him strangely, your movements, your eyes, your voice devoid of emotion, like you had just noticed he was standing there. "Rafe, are you okay?" you asked.

Rafe's own anguished cries woke him up as his eyes shot open. He was breathing heavily and sweat coated his skin. He sat up, physically clawing at the pain and heaviness in his chest as he looked around and tried to remember where he was. A clock blinked on the bedside table: 4:37 AM. His mind frantically tried to figure out his surroundings. He was in bed. He was in bed in a hotel room, in New York City. He was in bed...

It was a fucking dream?

It felt so real he could feel the tears burning behind his eyes and despite the minutes that passed, he couldn't slow down his racing heart, gasping for breath as he untangled from the sheets and slid onto the floor, head in his hands. Memories that he had tamped so far down into his conscious that he was surprised they were still accessible flew to the surface...

3 Years Ago

You were crying.

You were crying so hard that Rafe didn't know what to do. Every fiber of his being ached to pull the words he had just said back into his mouth, to swallow them whole, to undo the last 20 minutes, to pull you into his arms, but he couldn't. I can't be with you anymore he lied. I don't love you he lied. We don't want the same things he lied and he lied and he lied.

You were so confused, so upset. You begged him, you pleaded with him to give you another chance, thinking you had done something wrong. You promised you would change, promised you would be better and that was when he had finally had enough, unable to take it anymore. He stood up, leaving you alone on your couch and walked out your front door without any further explanation.

He barely made it out of your driveway before his tears caught up with him and he slammed his fist repeatedly on the steering wheel in frustration. He didn't make it another 10 minutes before he had to pull over and get physically sick on the side of the road at the thought of what he had just done.

She deserves better he told himself then. She deserves better he told himself every moment since then.

Present

Rafe had spent every single day trying to forget you as he moved out of North Carolina, resigning himself to a life spent travelling from hotel to hotel, city to city, responsible for the expansion of Cameron Development, which was booming. He worked 75-hour weeks, throwing himself into work as a way to forget. To forget the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair, shaving it in a desperate attempt to help. To forget the taste of your lips on his, your soft skin under his touch, the way you looked at him and only him, like he was your whole world. The way you loved his sisters, the ring he had bought for you, the dreams you had shared of a family, of a life together, of the way you had loved him when he was unlovable.

He sat on the floor for hours, letting himself feel the things he hadn't let himself even think about in three years through sobbed breaths, living, reliving and killing his own dreams.

Finally, as the sun rose, he grabbed his phone and called Kelce.

"Rafe Cameron? To what do I owe the pleasure, my man, how's it going?"

"Hey Kelc" Rafe said, clearing his throat, his voice still thick with emotion that he was trying to hide. "I uh I'm thinking about coming back into town. Look, this is random, but, Y/N, is she with anybody?"

There was a long pause. Rafe held his breath.

"Rafe, I don't think it's my place to say anything. If you want to talk to her, you can come see her for yourself. But.... I can't promise she'll even speak to you... after everything. She's working at the law firm on Calhoun Street."

Rafe said goodbye, hung up and began packing.

He spent the entire flight and the 40-minute drive from the airport in a daze, trying to think about what to say, what he could possibly say to you. As his truck wound down the familiar roads of Kildare Island, he was overwhelmed with memories, the restaurant he had taken you to for your first date, your favorite place to get ice cream, the beach where you'd kissed him for the first time. He shook his head, trying to right his mind as he pulled onto Calhoun Street, realizing he hadn't made any progress in what he wanted to say. He hadn't slept, hadn't eaten; he caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, taking in his bloodshot eyes and wrinkled shirt. He looked like shit, but he had already wasted years getting here, years making his own life into a disaster, he wasn't going to wait any longer.

He stepped out of the car and began walking towards the law offices when he heard the unforgettable, unmistakable sound of your laugh that pierced his heart and nearly brought him to his knees. He turned to see you walking up the sidewalk with a young boy in your arms, deeply focused on what he was saying as he babbled and played with a loose strand of your hair.

His heart plummeted into his stomach. I'm too late he thought.

He was standing there, unmoving, eyes transfixed on you.

As you got closer, his figure caught your attention and unlike in his dream, you noticed him immediately. You stopped in your tracks, like you had walked into a brick wall, your eyes widening in recognition.

Rafe Cameron.

Rafe Cameron was here. Rafe Cameron was on Kildare Island and he was standing in front of you, staring at you. Your body shut down like it was in self-preservation mode at the memory of what he had done, and the words he had said the last time you'd seen him. You couldn't move, you couldn't speak, you didn't know what to do. He had taken your whole heart with him when he left and even though 3 years had gone by, even though you had desperately tried to move on, even though you had made significant progress, seeing him made you feel like you were right back on that day, like a vase he had knocked over, shattering into a thousand pieces that would never be fully right again no matter how many times you tried to reconfigure it.

Rafe wiped his hand over his mouth and walked over to you as your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest.

"Hey, h-how are you doing?" he asked.

How am I doing?! You destroyed my life, broke my heart and now you're back 3 years later and want to know 'how I'm doing?' You thought bitterly. You swallowed your feelings, unwilling to let him see how much he still affected you.

He looked nervous, jittery, anxious, his eyes flickering between your face and the boy in your arms and your heart squeezed for a moment at the idea that he might be using again. That, at least, would be a plausible explanation for this ridiculous situation.

"I-I'm okay" you said. The boy in your arms had started to wiggle and you set him down. "Hey, sweetie, why don't you run inside, okay? I'll be right there." The little boy eyed Rafe skeptically before making his way inside.

Rafe cleared his throat as his eyes followed him. "He's-he's sweet" he managed to eke out.

You smiled, looking after the boy affectionately, "He's a handful, but I do what I can to help Rachel out."

Rafe's eyes shot back to you, pointing between you and the door the boy had just gone through, desperately trying to put the pieces together, praying he had heard you right but forbidding himself to get his hopes up.

"Wait, he's not - you're not?" he said, gesturing.

"What? No!" you said, fighting back the tone of offense. Like Rafe had any right to know anyway.

Suddenly, Rafe grabbed your left hand, eyes shooting to your ring finger, which sat bare.

Your hand tingled at the feeling of his warm touch, but you managed to gather yourself quickly, pulling your hand back.

Rafe looked confused, eyes shifting to yours and then away quickly. "I-I thought...Topper...I didn't know...."

"We...dated...." you replied, clocking the tick in Rafe's clenched jaw in response. "It didn't work out."

He wasn't you you thought. Nobody is you and that's the problem.

Rafe turned his back to you and began to walk away, running his hand through his short hair before turning back around, chewing on his thumbnail, startling you with the look in his eyes that were pained, anguished with something else running deep below the surface that you didn't want to linger on.

"Go out with me tonight" he said after a moment.

"What?!" you spat, exasperated.

WHAT!!!!!!!!!! your mind screamed.

"Please, just give me a chance to explain."

"Rafe, I don't know what you could possibly have to say at this point" you replied quickly. You could feel your emotions bubbling up. You needed to get far, far away from him as you felt your resolve begin to crumble. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please Y/N, I'm begging you. Please. One night. No expectations at all. You can walk away after that, I will completely understand."

Silence.

He took a step closer to you, his voice low as he whispered, "I know I have no right to ask you for anything, but please just give me this."

No, no, no, no, no, no your mind echoed on repeat.

"Okay" you whispered back.

Rafe entered the side door of Tanneyhill quietly, pleasantly surprised that his key still worked. There weren't any cars in the driveway, he hadn't told anyone he was coming home, but he didn't want to take any chances.

He wandered the hallways quietly, equal parts surprised and unsurprised that little-to-nothing had changed in his long absence as he made his way to father's office.

For so long he had cowered in fear of this room, this man, of the threat that hung over him like a guillotine. Not anymore. Let Ward do his worst. He wasn't a little boy anymore. If Ward swung, he would swing right back. He itched to, in fact, as he thought about the conversation three years ago in this very place that had stolen everything from him. He quickly pulled open the drawers of the large mahogany desk, rummaging through the contents before he found what he was looking for.

To Ward's credit, the tape recorder was covered in dust and looked unused and unplayed, buried at the back of the drawer. Rafe set it down on top of the desk and glared at it, reliving momentarily the mistake he had made years ago, deep in the midst of his drug addiction in an effort to save his father, to save his family. He reached for the lamp on the desktop and brought it forcefully down on top of the tape recorder, sending bits of plastic pieces flying onto the floor and across the desk as he nearly ripped the lamp out of the wall, pounding it over and over and over again until all that was left were indistinguishable shredded pieces of plastic and the dented mahogany. Rafe was breathing heavily, his breaths coming in and out shakily as he felt tears burning in his throat, promising himself that he would become more than his mistakes.

After a long shower and a longer nap, Rafe's head was more clear than it had been in weeks in terms of his priorities. Nothing mattered more than you, nothing had ever mattered more than you and he was going to do everything he could to make you see that.

As he navigated to your house to pick you up, he couldn't help but think of the date that he never should have cancelled and how different his life would have been if he had chosen to go out with you that night instead.

You looked achingly, stunningly beautiful in an open-backed dress that teased your tan skin. For years, he hadn't let himself think about how beautiful you were and now that you were in his front seat, riding shotgun where you belonged, he could barely keep his eyes on the road. The drive was silent but for the quiet scratch of the radio. The entire way he stole sidelong glances at you that he hoped went unnoticed, but brought a blush to your cheeks all the same as you desperately tried to keep your own eyes facing forward. His gaze felt like the sun's rays on a hot summer day, as it traced your long eyelashes, your lips, your everything.

You didn't let yourself think too long about the way your body felt under the warmth of his blue eyes.

He didn't let himself think too long about the fact that you had dressed up for him.

Dinner was nice... but awkward. Rafe hated himself for that. He hated the awkwardness and the tension that simmered beneath the surface of every conversation. Things between you two had never been awkward, ever. You were like his second half. You used to be so at ease with each other, life with you was so effortless. It was evident that your guard was still up, so he kept the conversation light, asking about work, your family, your friends, desperate to learn everything new about you that he had missed, like a little kid trying to put together the last pieces of their favorite puzzle.

He managed to make you laugh. Twice. It made him feel like the king of the universe and he tried desperately to keep that smile on your face for the rest of the night; something that used to be second nature to him, now a battle every step of the way.

After dinner, you both stepped outside into the night and a cool breeze tickled your skin, making you shiver. Rafe reached out a hand instinctively to warm you, but pulled back at the last minute, balling his hands into fists at his side.

"Take a walk with me?" he asked, knowing he was on borrowed time at this point, as the night was coming to an end.

You took a deep breath and looked around, trying to think of an excuse, any excuse not to, but you couldn't deny that some part of you was enjoying this; the sweet pain and sweet pleasure of having Rafe back, if only for a moment, like holding a firefly in your hand, brief, fleeting. You knew how this was going to end: you, alone again, back to square one, picking the pieces of your heart up off the ground. But, you wanted to pretend, you wanted to keep living in this make-believe world where the past 3 years hadn't happened for a little while longer.

You looked at him and the way his midnight blue eyes traced your face and you cursed yourself for the unwarranted tenderness you had towards him, would always have towards him, despite everything. You nodded, and followed him to the nearby pier.

You walked side by side for awhile, the only people on the otherwise abandoned walkway; your only company the sound of the waves that lapped against the boats in the water and against the dock. What once would have been a comfortable silence between you felt thick and heavy, weighed down with 3 years' worth of unspoken words and two broken hearts. You bit your lip softly to keep from crying as your emotions caught up with you and your mind whirled. Rafe stopped walking beside you and turned to face you.

You realized looking at him now that ever since he'd come back, he'd looked uncharacteristically nervous and unsteady. The Rafe you knew, or thought you knew, was always confident, self-assured, cocky even. Now Rafe's unease matched your own, putting you further on edge.

"T-thanks for agreeing to this tonight. I don't even know where to begin to explain myself" he said, looking around, avoiding your eye contact.

"Look, I'm a grown man, I've made my own decisions and I know I have to live with that but... fuck... FUCK." He began to unravel quickly as his breaths came out heavy and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and began to pace.

"Rafe" you said, reaching for him before you knew what you were doing, the instinct to comfort him wound so tightly in your DNA.

"I was gonna ask you to marry me" he said, pulling his hands away from his face to find yours.

Your head spun in confusion and you felt your dinner lurch in your stomach.

"What?" you whispered, your voice wavering.

"My dad knew it. He... threatened me.... he told me you deserved better and the more I thought about it the more I realized he was was fucking right. You are such a good person. Honestly? You're the best person that I know. You had no business being with me. I was living on borrowed time with you as it was and-and I wasn't going to resign you to a life like that, with me. You deserve so much more than to settle for second best, for someone with so much bullshit in his past. A recovering drug addict? A murderer?" he said as he shook his head strongly and tears spilled from his eyes, "I wasn't going to do that to you."

"Rafe you were 19, you were high, you weren't in your right mind. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake, but you have to forgive yourself, you can't let that hang over you anymore."

Your heart and your mind were racing with each other to try to sort out everything he had just said to you. He wanted to marry you? What he was saying now was in such stark contrast to everything he had said then... that he didn't love you... that you wanted different things.... Your own tears bubbled over at the memory and you wiped at them furiously, even though they wouldn't stop.

Rafe hated to see you cry. He hated himself more for making you cry, again.

"And here I am making a fucking mess of it all anyway, just like he said I would" he said as he looked at you. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry, baby" he said, stepping forward like he wanted to comfort you as he watched you begin to cry in earnest, his term of endearment tearing open your wounded heart. He pulled himself back, both of you stuck in limbo, your emotions spilling out in front of you, unsure of how to act on them.

Rafe continued to ramble, like his explanations could dry your tears, "I tried so hard to tell myself I was doing the right thing, that you'd be happier without me. Shit, maybe you are!--" he said, throwing his hands up in frustration.

I'm not you thought, I am so desperately not.

"--But I had to come back here and tell you that I never stopped loving you. Not for one minute. I didn't mean anything I said back then. I missed you with every part of me. I-I haven't been with anyone else. I couldn't. They weren't you. It felt awful.... You're it for me. You always have been, you always were" he choked on his last words as he rubbed the back of his hands over his eyes in an attempt to stop his own tears now as he whispered in a grovelled voice, "You're my girl. I wanted... want..." he stumbled over his words, his breathing erratic, "Want you to be my wife. I want the future we always talked about babygirl, you, me, our family..."

You tried and failed to hold back a sob as you covered your face and turned away from him, your stomach in knots. You were having trouble breathing and you couldn't compose yourself under his gaze, not when he was saying things like that.

He was quiet for a moment.

"Fuck" he said quietly. "This was so selfish. I shouldn't have said anything. I-I just had this dream about you..." you turned around to face him as he continued, "...you had moved on, and I just thought if I got to you before it was too late maybe by some miracle, by some gift of God you would give me a second chance. But, I think I know that's too far gone now. You've built an amazing life for yourself, sweet girl, you don't need me."

He looked earnestly, deeply at you, his own face scrunched as the tears rolled down his face. "But God I am so sorry baby, I am so so sorry for what I did" he said, he flexed his fingers desperately wanting to reach for you again, to comfort you.

If anyone asked you later how or why the next few minutes unraveled the way they did, you wouldn't have had an answer for them. Sometimes, there is no answer for the way two hearts, two souls respond to each other. There wasn't a plausible way for you to make a decision about anything, your head was swimming with your tears and as you struggled to catch you breath, you met Rafe's eyes with your own. And like so many of the nights you had spent missing him, the only thing you wanted, the only thing you craved was to feel his arms around you, for him to tell you that everything was going to be okay, that he was sorry, that he didn't mean it, that he wanted you back.

So, you let yourself have it.

You stepped forward and you buried your head into his chest, arms curling around him, grabbing the back of his suit jacket like a lifeline.

He was frozen to the spot and you squeezed your eyes shut as your whole body shook with your cries before he tentatively, gently put his arms around you. When you didn't flinch or step away, he pulled you in deeper, nuzzling into your neck. "M'sorry, I'm so sorry" he whispered over and over and over again as he rocked you gently back and forth.

Eventually, you put your arms around his neck and he could feel your hot breath and your warm tears against him. He could have fallen to his knees. As it was, he was having a hard time keeping himself steady at the feeling of you pressed against him, trying to figure out what it all meant. For now, he wasn't going to question it, he was going to take it one step at a time.

EPILOGUE - 2 Years Later

Rafe was at the sink washing dishes when he heard you padding up behind him in your bare feet. When he turned to look at you, his soul melted.

You were cradling your son in your arms who was just waking up from a nap. His blue eyes were just like his dads as they fluttered open, his head resting on your shoulder as he clung to you. You brushed his bright blonde hair out of his eyes and the ring on your finger that had sat for so long in Rafe's closet caught the sunlight. It looked perfect on you, just like he knew it would.

You were smiling down at your son before you looked up at Rafe and he smiled back at you, shaking his head, thinking how lucky he was to finally, finally be living his dream. You smiled at him, that smile that was his and his alone that felt like the first touch of the sun on a spring day as he reached down to kiss you softly, sweetly. "I love you, Mama" he said as he wrapped one hand around your waist and the other rested against your growing belly.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @softcoremaybank, @diary-of-jj, @m-indkiller, @underscorebabbabybabay

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cursedmoon-doll13 · 10 months

Text

Some Kind Of Stranger.

(Sirius x Reader)

Cw: Angst, Smut, Dub/Noncon. Afab reader. Prisoner (also falsely accused) reader and they are having a very bad time™️ Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Comfort Sex in a very uncomfortable place.

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Condemned to rot in Azkaban, you find yourself thrown into a cell already inhabited by a particularly infamous wizard. Perhaps you can stave off the torment together…

Dividers by @/saradika

Your life is forfeit.

Until now, the threat of death never seemed real. Not when you were seized by the officials and dragged before the ministry, not when those cold, sneering faces looked down upon you and sentenced you to a life in Azkaban for a crime you didn’t commit. It was a farce, a bad practical joke. It couldn’t be real.

Perhaps you were simply enduring some nightmare; this was only a dream, you’d soon find your coworker, Mildred, shaking you vigorously - wake up, you lazy git! Do you even know what bloody time it is? - And then, you’d wipe the crust from your eyes, pull on your Honeydukes apron and go back to peddling sugar to those titchy new Hogwarts kids, who shrink more and more each year.

No. It’s now that it feels real. Now, you're forced behind rusty iron bars, stranded in the middle of the ocean, trapped forever. All you can hear is the crying and moaning of the other prisoners, who sob and bay like animals. You’re still frozen in shock.

Then, the panic sets in. Sinking and emptying, like a vast hole has opened up in your stomach. But you can’t even scream anymore; it dies in your throat like a broken whistle. Instead you just cry, sliding down to the filthy floor in a pathetic heap. No matter how you plug your ears, the older inmates howl louder, joining in a cacophony that almost deafens you.

After a while, the din thankfully quiets down. Exhausted, you drift off into uneasy sleep for a few hours, until some damp chill startles you again. You feel numb and heavy. For the first time since you came here, you take in your surroundings, though there isn’t much: You’re boxed into a container of rock, packed like a product. In one shadowed corner, there’s a pulpy grey lump stuck to the wall like mould. You blink away the darkness and realise it is a vaguely human shape: one with filthy, matted hair.

He is a man; or the sordid remnants of one.

He’s wearing the same drab, striped clothing as you, though older and rattier and crusted with grime. For a moment, you’re convinced he’s dead. The idea of being locked in with a rotting corpse flashes horrifyingly through your mind. But then, he raises his gloomy head. He must be waking up, too.

“Hello?” You gently call out to him. Your voice echoes around the room. You scrape your knee on the floor as you crawl over, trying to see him better.

Almost immediately, you regret your decision.

This is a mistake. Oh, god, it has to be.

The prisoner sharing your cell is Sirius Black.

That Sirius Black.

Sirius Black, who once fired off a curse that killed twelve muggles before you. Sirius Black, whose gaunt and hollowed cheeks now recall the skeleton you first believed he was. Sirius Black, who’s gazing fixedly at you now, in awe, as if you’re an apparition.

“Hello,” he echoes back, and his voice is so gravelly that he sounds like he’s swallowed a bag full of glass. His eyes are wide and strangely bright.

“I…”

Your throat constricts.

The panic from earlier almost drove you into hysterics. Now, you’re just a deer in the headlights.

He rises, advancing towards you.

“You don’t look like one of them,” Black rasps. You follow his line of sight towards your empty forearm.

“N-no, I’m not a Death Eater!” You cry, and scramble quickly away. Still, you feel the urgent need to clamp a hand down there. It’s as if his gaze burns you.

“I’m Innocent! I didn’t do it, I swear, I… I… ”

But you’re choked up with tears again. Now the dam is breached, and you can’t staunch the flow. You were so sullen and distant before the actual judges, but as you’re confronted with death at the hands of a possible madman, you’re desperate to prove yourself. It’s all completely pointless, but you can’t help it. You felt it when you failed your N.E.W.T’s, too. The weight of inevitability; the realisation that a door had slammed permanently shut on your life.

You’re so beside yourself, you don’t register how close Black has gotten. Now, you can feel his warm breath tickling your ear, almost pleasantly. But then you flinch, as images of brute, bloody violence force themselves into your head. All you know of this man is that he’s a ruthless killer, that’s he’s…

“Not going to hurt you,” Black tells you. He’s backed you into a wedge in the stone, with nowhere else to turn to but him. You feel like a cornered animal.

“Don’t cry, now,” he says quietly. A bony, shaking knuckle comes to wipe the wetness from your cheek. “If you are Innocent, don’t you forget. It helps not to.”

Don’t Forget… Black’s words solidify in your mind. You swallow down a lump. The scrape on your knee is beginning to sting painfully. You realise it’s bleeding.

“Wouldn’t do to catch an infection here, eh?” He quips. Black clumps together the cleanest strip of cloth he has and dabs at your weeping knee.

You blink owlishly. It’s so starkly conversational, it sounds like it came from an entirely different man.

“Um… No. No.” You sniff and rub your eye; it smarts. “You’re right, It really wouldn’t do.” You glance sheepishly back up at his pale face.

“…Thankyou,” you sigh, and you mean it.

For a brief second, this encounter feels precious. Without realising it, you’ve relaxed so much tension in your tired body. Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation you’ve found yourself in hits you like a ton of bricks. How could you have ever imagined you’d be comforted by a convicted murderer? He’s bent forward, staring intently at you, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. A little too intently.

Black’s tattered shirt gapes open like a wound, and your gaze dips instinctively downward, tracing black-inked, swirling tattoos. His bare chest is coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Black’s hand brushes momentarily against yours, and you hurry to pry your wandering eyes away.

It’s no use, though, because he’s rather caught on. You believe you half-fantasise the ghost of a cheeky smile, twitching beneath his rugged whiskers.

He would’ve been handsome, once. He still is.

“Tell me your name,” Black murmurs, and licks his cracked lips. “I want to know.”

You tell him. He nods faintly, and draws closer.

Black’s grey eyes are half-lidded. He’s leaning flush against you now, breathing huskily, almost clinging to you, like he can’t bear to be apart from your heat. Maybe you’ve already lost the plot - after barely a day here - but the anguished, far-away longing in his expression makes your heart pang.

Eleven years ago now, it must’ve been…

A shrill, unwelcome noise cuts through the silence. Outside, another inmate is shrieking.

Then, the nightmare truly begins: an eerie rattle dragging across the air, knife-sharp, closing in, as certain as death. You realise immediately that it is the Dementors - your prison guards- even without seeing them. You feel them, cold like a sheet of ice, crushing you, inescapable.

You shift, darting your eyes around your cell; you must think of something, anything else.

Your distraction comes in a rush of warmth, cocooning you in a grimy coat. Black has caged you into his arms, and will not budge.

“Stay here with me,” he breathes. His voice is raw and hoarse, pleading: “Just for one moment…”

He shudders violently, and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Black squeezes you so tightly, so desperately, you feel like you’re suffocating.

“Sirius,” you croak out a protest. “Wait, let me go.”

The sound of his own name jolts him out of his panic, but his grip on you remains unrelenting. Sirius turns a sharp glare on you that makes you shiver.

Before, his gaze was fond, almost gentle, but now there’s a hungry glint in his eyes. It reminds you of the starving, feral dogs that roam the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the ones that’d rip your throat out for a mere scrap of meat. No, he may not have tried to kill you, but that doesn’t mean you should’ve let your guard down. You’re powerless to stop him now.

“Don’t leave, don’t you dare leave me,” he’s chanting through dirty, gritted teeth.

“I’m not going to leave, Sirius,” you muster. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay here with you…” The words seem to pacify him a little, and he softens his touch once more. You see again the sad, forlorn expression, and pity floods your heart. He’s a hurt man. A lonely man…

Another frigid spike of mental agony is driven through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You no longer have the willpower to resist. He’s so warm, his body wrapped around you like a protective blanket. You can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat underneath his striped shirt, pounding like a drum.

“Help…” He sounds so lost, feverish. “…Stave it off.”

You find yourself nodding, pressing yourself closer to him. He’s right. It hurts you, too, the Dementors’ presence. All you have now is each other. Sirius strokes a clammy hand over your tear-stained cheek, lifts your chin and kisses you. His lips taste salty and bitter, and your teeth clash together clumsily with the urgency of it. You rush to hook your arms around his neck, fingers raking across knots and tangles in his dark, unkempt hair.

Sirius groans heavily into your mouth, bucking his hips. He’s so malnourished you can feel the harsh angle of his pelvic bone jut against you. Something else, hard, twitches fervently over your thigh. He tightens his hold on you before you can react, grasping your thighs and grinding powerfully over your still clothed cunt. You whimper as his heat radiates into you. Sirius doesn’t stop, panting frantically. Maybe he can’t stop. He’s trapped you between himself and the cold, hard stone, and you start to crave friction and relief from him. Something you can focus on that isn’t discomfort or pain. But you’re completely at his mercy in this position, and can only rub your clit wantonly against the throbbing outline of his dick. A low, pleased grumble resounds in his throat, almost canine.

Sirius paws at the confines of your inmate’s rags, and without warning, he forcefully disrobes you. You gasp as a freezing gust of air pimples gooseflesh on your exposed skin, but he’s on you just as fast, You cling instinctively onto his jacket as he hoists you onto his waiting lap. He latches onto your throat with a greedy bite, sucking ravenous hickies down to your collarbone. Sirius rolls a hot tongue over your hardened nipple, and you tug again at his tangled locks as he grazes tantalisingly over it with his teeth.

His hands are everywhere, movements once well-practised, natural, stirred into a lustful frenzy. One comes to pinch at your other nipple, another is slipping past your stomach, down in between your thighs where you’re needy and slick. You can’t help the moan that escapes past your lips as the pad of his thumb circles over your sensitive clit.

For a small, blissful moment, you rock into his palm as he holds you, stifling your mewls into his shoulder as he massages the bundle of nerves there. Oh, fuck, you need him, as much as you need air to breathe. If you shut your eyes, you can almost pretend that you weren’t here; that you are joyful and unfettered, making love to a free man.

“Mm, Sirius!”

Sirius curls another long finger into your wet slit, and you could swear the glint in his eye is smugly satisfied. He pumps mercilessly into your pussy, not sparing your clit from his attention, and it isn’t long before you feel a thrill rippling up your spine; tight, warm pressure building in your abdomen.

But then he seems to grow antsy and impatient. You whine as he pulls his hand away, but he hushes you, pressing a consoling kiss to your temple. The lucid side to him, the one that still cares for your comfort, provides you with his coat to rest your head on. You lie down, shuddering as the frigid air assaults you again. You grab at his rags as he quickly undresses. He’s taking too long, too long…

Sirius drags down the waistband of his slacks and releases the straining hardness of his cock. It’s erect and veiny, leaking precum from an enraged tip.

He’s left you so soaked that he meets no resistance as he buries himself deep into your ready cunt. You groan as you adjust to the girth of him, stretching your gummy walls. Sirius grunts, clutching your thighs so tightly his nails leave indents on the tender flesh. Sweat is pouring down his forehead in rivulets, and you reach up to brush damp hair away from his haggard face. It occurs to you faintly that maybe after such deprivation, this much sensation is overwhelming him. That notion is swiftly dashed as he stutters his hips jerkily into yours, and you squeak out a moan as your nerves jolt with pleasure. You clamp your legs down over his waist, rocking back into him with all the force you can muster.

Sirius is picking up pace faster and faster; he’s had enough of being attentive. He braces you against the thin material of his coat and begins fucking you in earnest, and his rough, sloppy thrusts knock the breath clean out of you. The impact of skin on skin echoes around your cell, drowning out the screams of agony from outside. You arch into him, clawing meagrely onto his biceps for purchase as your shoulder blades burn across the ground.

Sirius growls and grips the back of your neck, lifting you up to pull you into a hungry kiss. His free hand slips down to ruthlessly tease your clit again, and the inescapable power of his body dumbs your senses. It’s a mercy: now all you can feel is him, all you can think of is… The taut razor wire in your belly is threatening to snap. You’re so close now, and it’s like he can taste it, muffling your cries with his tongue as he buckles down and pounds into you.

Then it all breaks, a flash of heat rippling through you like an electric shock. The force of your climax is so strong that you instinctively writhe away from him, but Sirius holds you firmly down and only fucks you harder as you come, rumbling with satisfaction as you spasm and clench uncontrollably around his dick. You can barely comprehend how his movements are faltering, growing increasingly messy and desperate…

Sirius groans hoarsely before he drags himself out of you. His cum splashes over your still twitching stomach in a thick, white rope. He slumps, shuddering out a jagged sigh. Your orgasm lathers over you until it tapers off into a pleasant buzz. For a while, all you can hear is your intermingling breaths, panting in sync. Now that he’s pulled out, you feel strangely hollow and empty inside.

Uncaring of your still sticky belly, Sirius heaves his sweaty body on top of you and smothers you like a blanket. You only wish he could clog your senses, too, so that this reality could fade away. Seeking sanctuary in his warmth, you press your eyes shut and resolve to fall asleep and dream of better days.

Your life is forfeit. Now you will exist without sun, without moon, without food or water. Someday you may forget your own name.

But you will have this. You will have this.

#was trying to write some fun sexy smut then it turns out quite angsty #but for me I think that’s just par for the course #I honestly haven’t read the books in years I just think escaped prisoner Sirius is hot 🤷‍♀️#the wiki is my friend #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black in azkaban #tw dubcon #afab reader #smut #angst #my writing

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 5 months

Text

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 163- Soul Seekers

Summary: Rahl gains strength. Josie experiences it in her very soul. She and Legolas speak of current events. Thoughts of Thranduil are heard by the Prince. The Elvenking finds an opening. The King and the Prince have words. A threat is made. Jace, Clover and Matthew enjoy breakfast until upsetting news triggers both Clover and the vampire. The dhampir gets a glimpse of new magic. Legolas faces unexpected feelings as he and Lola bond over shared concerns. The Prince also bonds with his sightful soul sister, but not in the way he expected.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst,

Chapter characters: Thranduil, Josie, Legolas, Lola, Boromir, Leean, Narcisse, Rahl, Amara, Conde', Jace, Clover, Matthew,

Chapter word count: 6,080

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

"Josie, Lola. It is best if we all go inside." Legolas proclaimed after his father's manic meltdown that triggered a chain of earthquake like effects all throughout middle earth.

The Black Rhun was still angry as white capped waves rocked and raced with the whistling wind and a sinister stormy sky of dancing lightning levitated low above ominous ocean.

"Legolas. What was that??? Jareth??" you panted, refusing to let go of the rail you clung to for a crutch.

Boromir had the same question in his panicked eyes and when they connected with Legolas's, the answer had become crystal clear to the man of Gondor.

"Please, my lady. Come inside. The conditions are not stable out here." replied the King as you still believed him to be, totally avoiding your question as he reached for you.

You refused to release the railing as Lola quickly took Leean inside with Boromir, for you suddenly caught sight of Stephane standing on the shoreline.

"No. Stephane. He's out there alone. Harker could be lurking!"

You still cared deeply for Narcisse, no matter what state of mind he was in, for it wasn't his fault.

Narcisse, in his altered state, stood vulnerable at the water's dangerous edge, flooded by flashes of lightning and happily hypnotized by it. He knew in that moment that the Elvenking was in fact alive and was no longer in the evil clutches of the goblin king. It didn't matter to Rahl, but it certainly did to Stephane who was unable to overpower the dark lord. What was still unclear though to both warlocks that were trapped in the same body, was if Thranduil was a product of Jareth's resurrected evil dead. Either way, the Elvenking was back and to put it quite simply, he was pissed.

"Narcisse!!!" you screeched as the howling gusty winds abused your body.

The man that retained Stephane's physical image, made no acknowledgment to your shrill call as he remained locked in the mammoth moon's blinding luminosity, as if he were being charged by it's incandescence.

"Ok, well maybe you'll answer to this." you mumbled.

"Darken Rahl!!!!"

Your tactic seemed to have worked. Narcisse slowly turned to you in an eerie manner and then, before your very bedazzled eyes, he vanished.

You released the rail and spun around multiple times, your eyes darting about the grounds for any sight of him. The wind ceased like it had simply been shut off by a switch and all went silent as if you were in the eye of the storm. Your attention quickly went to Legolas, who was now standing just inside the patio doors comforting both a crying Leean and Lola and then, there came a sound of flapping, like the wings of a very large bird.

As you whipped around, there in the moon's path, appeared exactly that. A white feathered species you couldn't place with the wingspan of a giant eagle's and it was heading right for you.

The raptor like animal screeched in it's descent and morphed into ribbons of black smoke as it landed and out of that vision swiftly walked a red robed man with long jet black strands and Stephane's face.

You froze solid, paralyzed from head to toe as his blazing blue orbs glared you down and he didn't stop. His long fast strides carried forth, right to you and through you as if he...or you...were a hologram.

Gasping loud and heavily, your eyes rolled back as your body followed suit and you found yourself slowly falling to the ground....and then, cool soft hands vigorously but gently caressed your cheeks.

"Josie! Josie my lady. Wake up." Legolas's frantic voice echoed through your head.

Your eyes fluttered open to see widened moonstone's and platinum strands flowing over you in the lingering breeze of Rahl's hit and run, for as you flung to your feet, the wicked warlock was gone.

"Where...what the hell was...where did he go??"

"Whom do you speak of? There...is no one here Josie."

"Yes?? Yes there was...I...you didn't see that??"

You gazed off in the direction Rahl been going to see nothing but an empty patio. Jesus, did you hallucinate again? No...no, it was real, wasn't it? It had to be. You had felt him. You could smell him, the pepper, as you clutched your dress and buried your nose into it. He had moved right through you...through your very soul.

"I...I have to find Stephane. I...I...ah...ahhh...CHOO!!!"

The sneeze was so powerful, it knocked you right into Legolas's arms. Now you knew it had to be real. The spicy pepper triggered your sneeze, just as it had when Rahl's panther form blasted his scorching breath over you, burning your nose just as it was doing now. You needed to confront Stephane, or...Rahl and you needed to try and coax out the man who loved you, the man who had the power help your fever dreams, per se. But first...

"Leggy...I...I'm really frightened." you admitted in a most vulnerable way as you gazed up into the elf's worried eyes, which wasn't about what his father had just done. It was about you. The Prince noticed something off about you and if Haldir had been there, he would have been the first to see it with his superpower of reading one's soul.

"That is quite understandable after what has occurred but..."

"No...not about any of that. It's...do...oh god...I don't even know how to say it. D..do..you think that...Jareth could have brought...."

Your words were ceased by Legolas's single word as his eyes darted to the forest.

"Amara..." he whispered with a grimace, for her scent burned his eyes as well, one that only his kind could pick up.

"What? Where??" you asked with a gasp as you spun around, but did not see her anywhere. "I..I have been looking for her! I think she knows where Garrett is. Amara!!!"

"I do not see her, but I can sense her."

Legolas knew that Amara knew he had returned and was watching him, waiting to collect on their arrangement. He also knew that she knew his father had caused the sonic like boom and that was why she was hiding. If there was anyone the Seelie queen feared, it was the Elvenking and it brought a slight curling smile to Legolas's lips, for he knew his father's hatred of her would soon unbind him to the fiendish faerie.

"Josie, please. We must go inside now."

"But...I need to speak to her! She's obviously here for a reason?? Garrett...I..I saw him with Kate in a vision and I..I believed it at first, but...he woudln't..he wouldn't do that and I think Amara knows something."

"Amara will not surface right now. Even she has fears. And the vampire is not my concern and should not be yours at this time, or even at all for that matter. If Kate is back, like you say, then it is not wise to be outside. Now, Josie, please...."

"Stop it Leggy. Don't tell me what to be concerned about. And...what even WAS that apocalyptic explosion anyways?? You never answered me. Surely, you must know something? When you arrived here, you said you sensed something in the air and now this happens less than a day later."

Legolas had never straight up lied to you, especially not to your face and the fact that he had to do it, had the power to turn his stomach.

"It was possibly Jareth, as you had asked." he rattled off as he walked to the opened patio doors so he would not have to look you in the eyes, for you would see his untruth through the windows of his soul.

You glanced behind you once more into the darkness, feeling uncertain that it had been the goblin king. Jareth was powerful, but was the wacked out warlock THAT powerful? The familiar vibes in the air were hard for you to ignore. This felt more...elvenly....and Legolas said possibly.

"Yeah...possibly. But...what if...."

You turned to the anxious elf lord with resumed thoughts of Thranduil that you were scared to reveal, which forced Legolas's lying eyes to meet yours after he heard you finish your sentence, not yet realizing you had not spoke them aloud.

"he brought Thranduil back?"

"If anything is possible, it is not that." he immediately responded, feeling that much to be true, for Thranduil had not been summoned by the book of shadows.

With gaping eyes, you slowly walked to Legolas, who had stepped inside and held his hand out to you. Your good hand slid into his and then you yanked him to the side once the door was secured.

"Legolas?? How...I...I spoke those words in my mind!"

His head tilted and his eyes narrowed, then widened when he recalled the other times this had happened, believing it to have either been the dark forest's trickery or his longing for you due to your prior separation.

"So it was real..." Legolas softly spoke as he gently touched your cheek.

"Leggy? What...was real? What just happened?"

"I..I have heard you before, calling my name. More than once."

Reality finally struck you as well. "Oh my god, yes. I...I have heard you too! But I was sure it was only a dream or vision of some sort, because I...I saw the orcs! I saw you fighting them. You were near the Celduin...which that is where it really happened and Boromir was injured. Leggy, how is this possible??"

"It must be that we both share my father's blood. I am just not sure why this has never happened until now or that it only seems to occur at certain times. It may be due to your shield, which you can control like myself and my father ca...could."

And Legolas knew that was exactly why his father was so angry, for blocking him out.

"Yes...I think you are right Legolas. When I am weakened, my mind is vulnerable as well. It makes sense now and...oh wow. So does seeing your grandmother, Carandolel! I...I saw her once when your father was visiting hers and Oropher's secret graves. She...she had came to him. And I saw her yet again. She...she is the one who pulled me from the ocean after I was knocked out of Garrett's arms. And at Lestat's too...in the mirror! She was with Thranduil! Legolas, we ALL share the same blood."

You smiled and then so did he. "We do. Josie...about my father..."

Due to the Prince's distraction, the Elvenking found a doorway into his son's mind...and soul.

"Yesss Legolas. About your father."

Being caught off guard by his father's intrusion, Legolas knew he had to quickly find a way to excuse himself, for he could not hold a feasible conversation with both you and the mad King's plausible words at the same time, nor did he feel right in doing so.

"Legolas??" you asked as he abandoned his words. "What about Thranduil?"

Leeanduil conveniently began to fuss and squeal as she stared up at her big brother, relieving him of his non-existent reasons to depart, for now he had one.

"Let me take her for a little walk through the halls, if that is alright with you Josie?" he quickly asked as he gently pulled the petite Princess from Lola's arms.

"Yes, of course Leggy. It will calm her after all this commotion. She loves spending time with you and she certainly seems to want you right now."

After Legolas left and before you decided to go look for Stephane, you stood with Lola to keep her company until Legolas returned and also to ask her about the young girl you saw earlier.

"Lola...is there by chance a little girl staying here or visiting, possibly about ten years old, reddish brown hair? She..she said her name is Rosie?"

"Hmmm. It does not ring a bell. I know of every child in this castle, even visiting ones. Why do you ask?"

You felt your stomach do a flip, realizing it was either another vision or a hallucination, but something inside your soul told you it was different, but different how?

"I'm just trying to figure out what's real anymore. My visions, dreams and such, they are changing. Lola...I saw her. I...spoke..to her. I've seen her before, long ago in a dream. Who could she be?"

"I'm sorry Josie. I wish I could be of better assistance."

The man who was told to you by Lola to be Conde', Francis's deputy assistant, approached Lola and offered his hand with a sweet smile.

"You could assist me my lady. Would you like to dance?"

Lola seemed starstruck by the tall, dark and handsome man's offer and quickly accepted.

"I'd love to."

You giggled as they left hand in hand and watched them dance for awhile until you suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to eat and strangely, all you craved was meat.

As you nitpicked through the buffet, choosing solely ham and chicken carvings, Legolas was off in his chambers, simultaneously entertaining his sister and trying to stabilize his father.

"Tell me my only begotten son, which storm was it that weakened your mind? Mine, or the one that brews between your legs for my Queen?"

The Elvenking calmly paced about his chambers with a wine goblet firmly in hand, continuing his charade of having returned to his old self, but Legolas had concluded long before his arrival in Dorwinion that it was a trick to reclaim his daughter.

"I assure you I suffer from no such storm and yours was received loud and clear."

"Is that so? Explain to me then, why my attempts to speak with you have been blatantly disregarded."

"There have been many happenings here, some that you are not aware of, that required my full attention."

"I am quite aware of where your full attention has been. Here....you say? That being of Lord Narcisse's realm and not on your return travel with my daughter? Or...Josephine as you were ordered to do?"

"Yes Adar. I remain in Dorwinion. Traveling is not safe for Leeanduil or Josie. Harker threatens the lands. He has killed many of Narcisse's men and Jareth's whereabouts are unknown as are any of the dead he has brought forth."

"Surely you do not wish me to believe such nonsense? Your proficient skills, along with Haldir's, the bowman's and Josephine's power are quite sufficient for travel."

"I disagree. Four of us, all highly skilled, myself, Boromir, Aragorn and Gimli were all attacked by Jareth's man made orcs and Boromir was severely wounded. Surely you do not want Leean to be caught in a war?? Haldir, Bard, Aragorn and Gimli are not even here. It is only Boromir and I."

"Tell me Legolas, have you informed Josephine of my existence as I have commanded? For surely, if you had, her love for her King would not keep here there."

"Surely, her love for her daughter would. She would not be so willing as you are to risk her safety. Although she had saved Boromir, I feel her powers are now not in tact and for unknown reasons, she has been concealing that from me. She has suffered greatly over your loss and it has taken an everlasting toll on her. She even believes Jareth may have brought you back from the dead as well and wishes to know my thoughts of it."

Thranduil's thoughts briefly veered off again to the words of your soulful letter and to seeing you crying. He also recalled your possible projection when he held and kissed you in Mirkwood's forest and he even recalled his own out of body travel as the white hart. Your reactions at both instances to seeing him, verified the grief you suffered that Legolas spoke of and he could only figure that you did not remember it or believe it to be real, which would explain why you still believed him dead, aside from Legolas not telling you the truth and the Elvenking...well...he did not care in the least for your pain.

"Preposterous. The spell of resurrection merely opens the door to life. The dead have a choice if they want to walk through it, for they know what they will become. Those of light become dark and those of darkness become death in itself. They become lost souls."

"How do you know this to be true?"

"Because even I would not choose such a fate."

"You would not? You relished in what Jareth had done to you and now you claim your own soul is yours again, but I do not feel that it is. Even in the Elvenking's natural darkness, he would not risk his Queen and daughter's well being. If you want Josie to know you are alive, why do you not inform her yourself? Is it because you do not want her to know who you are? For then, she would not wish to come and so you have forced me to do your bidding."

"You dare to question who I am?? Was my storm too subtle for you to know your place??!! If I have not received confirmation of your impending arrival by the rise of the sun, you will have confirmation of mine. I will come to reclaim what is mine and you, my insubordinate son, will suffer dearly."

Legolas then knew his father had closed the conversation and he now regretted calling him out, but by doing so, it proved to him just as he believed. Thranduil was not Thranduil. His soul was severely compromised and if he came to Dorwinion, all hell would break loose, mostly for you.

As the sun had set in middle earth, it was rising in the modern world of Manhattan with Jace and Clover awaking in each other's arms after their night of love confessions and sweet love making.

"Good morning my beautiful Clover." the blue and brown eyed warlock softly whispered with a smile as he kissed the ginger haired dhampir's forehead.

"Mmmm." she hummed as she stretched and yawned, squinting at the sunlight beaming through the stained glass window. "I gotta get used to not being called Raven. It's been years since I have went by Clover and it was a brief period since dhampirs grow so fast."

"Yes, well, batten down the hatches, for there is much more here to get used to. Come on. Take a shower with me and then I will show you the rest of the compound."

"You mean this old church?"

"Yes, but remember, I told you it's real contents are only visible to the warlocks unless we show you, which is what I said I would do. Chop chop. I smell Matthews cooking and I am famished after last night."

Jace wickedly grinned, slapped her ass and hopped out of bed, standing in bare form with his hand extended out, among "other" things.

Clover's grin matched his as she quickly took his hand and was pulled up against his growing girth, only to then be swooped up into his arms and carried off to the bathroom, laughing and squealing.

After an hour of more love making under the steaming stream of water, the two dressed and headed to the dining area where Matthew De Clermont sat, sipping on his wine. It was always 5 o'clock in a vampire's world.

The dark haired vamp's cobalt eyes gazed at a blushing Clover and then they rolled to Jace with his wet slicked back hair. One would have thought by Matthew's expression, that he did not approve of their obvious night of passion, but that was just his usual look, for he really had nothing to smile about, not for at least 20 more years when he would unite with Leeanduil. All in all, he was thrilled for his pal Jace, but even still...he was quite envious and lonely.

"Now that you both are....recharged...I presume you will be heading to Dorwinion as we discussed last evening over dinner?"

"Yes." Jace confirmed. "When the sun sets here, for it will then be daylight there. Speaking of food, what is that I smell?"

"Scrambled eggs, and an array of "undercooked" meats to suit the needs of our guest. Strength must be kept up for what's to come."

"Cheese. You put cheese in the eggs right Matty?" Jace asked with serious concern.

A slight and short lived smile came over Matthew's lips. "Sharp cheddar, of course."

"Hell yes!" Jace applauded and bolted off to the kitchen. "Hey! No biscuits and gra...oh, never mind, Found it!"

Clover giggled as Matthew resumed his resting bitch face, then pulled out a cell phone and began scrolling.

"What...is that?" she curiously asked, for she had never seen one before.

"You, my dear, have a lot to learn of the modern world. This is a cell phone. I can speak to others on it, out loud or by texting."

"T..texting?"

"You know, typing words? Like this."

Matthew held the mobile device out and demonstrated as he typed in her name.

Clover's blazing blues popped wide open. "Oh my. All I have ever known was the power of a pencil. How bad ass!"

"I'll tell you what's bad ass!" Jace happily attested as he sat a filled plate before her. "This! Babe, you gotta try the biscuits and sausage gravy. It's fucking killer."

Clover chuckled and rolled her eyes. "You and your biscuits."

"Damn straight. Although these are way better than KFC's. Matty here is a master chef."

The two ate with Jace scarfing down 3 plates to Clover's one while Matt enjoyed his wine. Once they were finished, the vampire then spoke as he looked up from his phone with dire eyes.

"There has been a change of plans for your trip tonight. We will all be going."

"Matthew? What is it?" Jace inquired with all seriousness to match the vexed vamp's face.

"I have word from my contact that other vampires, dealers to be exact, are sniffing around the area. There's only one reason for that to happen and that is the probability that they have picked up on Clover's scent."

"What??!!" Clover shouted in panic and flung from her seat.

"Easy, easy sweetheart." Jace lovingly said as he took her in his arms to comfort her. "I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. I put my life on it. Matthew, who is the contact?"

"Ryan. I don't think you have met him but he is a vampire I trust with my own life. Although, Clover, you may know who he is?"

'I..I'm sorry? I..I do not know of any vampires named Ryan. Should I? I mean, I have been imprisoned half of my life in case you have forgotten?"

"No, I have not forgotten. My mistake. Garrett must not have spoken of him."

"Garrett?? What the fuck does he have to do with any of this? Garrett hates me!"

"Hey, calm down." Jace firmly stated. "If Matthew trusts this vampire, then so do I."

"Ok?? But I don't trust Garrett!"

All the commotion triggered Matthew's blood rage. He stood so fast, slamming his hands upon the table, knocking one of the wooden legs loose and sending Clover's head to burrow in Jace's armpit.

"Enough! As far as I am aware, Garrett and Ryan do not speak. They have not seen each other in years. Now, do you want to live or die?? Prepare yourselves. We leave in the twilight hours."

Matthew was gone in the blink of an eye and Jace did as he was told.

"Come on. I need to show you some things as promised, and then we will prepare.

Down the steps, Jace led a frazzled and frightened Clover to the foyer of the old church that only showed a battered and broken interior.

"Ok." Jace sighed. "Try to remain calm. What I am about to do may look painful and scary, but trust me, I have done this many times and it only stings a a bit."

"Jesus Jace. Remain calm knowing death dealers are still seeking out my soul and also after what you just told me? What the fuck is going on?"

"Did I not just say trust me? I know what I am doing Clover."

"Fine. Have at it then." she huffed.

Jace then took out what looked like a pen to the dhampir. "This...is my stele that I told you about. The thing my father took from me. I told you I went back for it after you left with Thranduil."

"Yes, I remember that/ So, what's so big about it? Is it some kind of magic wand or something?"

Jace grinned. "Something like that. Watch."

He rolled up the sleeve of his black leather jacket and placed the tip of the object close to his skin. It then lit up as Jace began to burn some kind of symbol onto his forearm, which smoked and even made a searing noise that the tougher than nails warlock actually flinched over with a hissing sound.

"Jace! Oh my god, you're...burning yourself!!"

"It's alright Clover. I'm drawing the rune to show you my underground world per se. It will heal right up in seconds and look merely like a tattoo. Now, look straight ahead."

The old ruins of the church began to transform right before Clover's astonished eyes, into a futuristic world of things she had only ever read about in books. Technology and people were everywhere, mostly dresses like Jace.

"Oh...my...god..." Clover whispered, quite hysterically as she froze solid. "C..can...they...see us?"

Jace bellowed in laughter. "Of course they can see us silly. Come on. I'll show you around and introduce you to the people I call my real family."

"People? they're...humans?"

"Somewhat. They're warlocks and witches, just like me and you, well...minus the vampiness, but still just as powerful." he chuckled.

"So...that little gadget can do all of this? Hide you from the world?" Clover asked as they walked around the digitalized fortress that could have no way fit inside the simple two story church...but it did.

"It can and it can do much much more my lady. Do you remember when I told you I needed this to travel through portals? Well, this will open a portal for us to hit middle earth in 2.1 seconds. If I had had it that day in goblin town, Thranduil would have been eating our dust."

"So, that's what all those symbols are on your body? Runes? I can't believe I called them tattoos when I first met you. But wait...I...I saw one on Josie's neck...at Lestat's? How does she have one? I mean...she's..not your sister."

"She's still blood though. It must have been drawn on her somehow, most likely in a dream, from someone of blood trying to protect her. A rune placed on the neck signifies an intensified angelic power that one of light would wear. I saw it on her too but it was faded or dormant per se. Thing is, I'm pretty sure she knows nothing of what it truly is and I didn't have time to explain it when I had to explain being her brother. Let's just say, she's one super powered witch, even without the rune mark."

"Great...I'm definitely dead when she finds out what I've done."

"Hey, no. I won't let that happen. I'll talk to her, try to explain things on your behalf."

"Oh great, she'll just kill you too then."

"Alright, enough. I said I will keep you safe and I will. I love you Clover. Let's go mingle and what not to waste some time until twilight, then we will zap across the pond."

The castle party continued on into the night despite the earth's shake up and now you were dealing with Catherine's soul stealing glare from across the dance hall as she mingled with her son Francis and his Queen Mary. Still, there was no sign of Stephane. He was either avoiding the entire shindig or simply just..you.

When you returned to the hall and joined Legolas and Leean, Conde' and Lola were dancing once again.

The Lake Town deputy seemed to be smitten with her and possibly she felt the same, although you knew her heart truly lied with Legolas, but he had made it abundantly clear to you that his feelings were not reciprocated, still you tried once more to spark his interest despite the fact he had told you to drop it.

"Leggy. Doesn't Lola look so beautiful in that red velvet dress? You should ask her to dance too."

The blonde elf had always been a spitting image of his father, and in that moment, did he ever as his eyes narrowed and side eyed you.

"I know what you are trying to do. Did I not ask you to relinquish such attempts?"

"Oh, don't be a party pooper Leggy. It's just a simple question and a dance."

"A simple question of entrapment and a dance I would much rather share with you."

You sighed and turned back to Lola who now wandered off with Mary's sister Kenna after her dance ended.

"Well...I suppose you, me and Leean could share a dance?" you offered with a grin as you stared straight ahead, feeling Legolas' eyes burning in your direction.

He happily stood up, cradling Leean in one arm and extending his other to you.

"My lady. May we have this dance?"

"Why yes my lord, we shall."

You took his hand with a sweet smile and he led you to the dance floor and for not one, but two harp filled songs, the three of you danced and twirled as you and Legolas chuckled along with Leeanduil's giggles and coos.

Lola headed for a goblet of wine as Kenna went to converse with Bash. From what you understood from Lola, Kenna used to fool around with the deputy warlock and that is why she tagged along with Francis and Mary. You hoped that Bash's fancy of her would not deter him from going to find Delphine during the night when all turned in form the party.

As Lola was making her way back to you, she caught sight of a vision she wished she could unsee. Narcisse kissing Claude, Catherine's daughter, in a remote corner of the hall. If there was any way to stick it to his wicked ex, and even to you, that was it.

Lola was now between a rock and a hard place, for she knew you should know, but she had no inkling of how to tell you. Her gut was telling her not to, for she did not want to add fuel to the fire that was already burning between you and her employer. Also, she did not want to face Narcisse's wrath if she were found out to be the tattle tale. It would soon turn out though, that Lola wouldn't have to say a word.

The gigantic grandfather clock struck 10 o'clock, echoing through the ballroom and the people were getting more rowdy. You could clearly see that the real party was just beginning and you didn't want Leean around the all the noise.

"Lola, I feel it is time for Leean to turn in for the night. Legolas, would you walk them back to my chambers please?"

There was that side eye again. "Of course, but I will return after my sister is asleep." he duly noted with adamant eyes.

"You...do not want to feed her and tuck her in?" Lola asked, a bit confused.

"No, Lola. I do not. Is that alright with you??" you snapped, not even realizing you had.

"Josie? Are..you alright?" Legolas then asked, in which you huffed, rolled your eyes and walked away.

Legolas reluctantly escorted Lola back to your chambers where she decided to voice her concerns over your behavior that Legolas had already picked up on much earlier.

"Legolas, something...is not right with her. I realize she has been drinking and would not want to breast feed, but it is not like her to not want to put her to bed like she does every night."

"Yes, I would agree with you. I believe the night's earlier events have caused her great worry upon all that she is already suffering. A bottle of Mirkwood's water will be suffice."

"I just feel so bad for her." Lola sympathized. "Mostly everyone she loves is gone. Her King, her dad, Haldir, Garrett, her brother that she found out tonight is not her brother and now learns she has another brother she never knew about and then there's this whole Jareth and Harker ordeal and not to mention Lord Narcisse is also not acting himself. He freed that wretched Catherine which adds to Josie's distress. She was quite upset about something else earlier too and cut her hand on a broken mirror that I believe she herself broke. I just do not know what to do for her Legolas. She's so lost and...I..I love her like a sister that I've never had. She's...she's my best friend and I think she is keeping things from me and...She's done so much for me and I just want to help her and I can't. She won't let me."

Lola shamefully turned from the Prince and began to quietly sob.

Legolas laid Leean down and took Lola's hand.

"Lola...I can see how deeply you care for her. I do as well. All that you said is true, but I know she did not mean to be cruel to you. It's not in her nature, even with all she has endured, which is why I am certain something has happened to cause her behavior. You say she cut her hand?"

Lola's leaking blue eyes peered up into Legolas's and for a split second, he felt something he never deemed possible. Attraction.

"Yes...but...I tended to her wound and...it looked pretty bad. Infected maybe and the healing water...it..it burned her."

Legolas's brows pinched together in confusion and concerned thought. "Burned? It should heal."

Lola fell against his chest in full blown tears. "What is happening Legolas? What can we do??"

The stunned elf froze for a moment, not sure what to do but his instincts, or maybe even unknown desires, quickly took over as he brought his arms up to cradle the fragile crying beauty.

"I..I wish to take her and Leean back home where it is safe, but...that cannot be at this time. It is too dangerous to travel."

Lola sniffled and raised her head to meet his sorrowful moonstones.

"And...me too? She..she said she would take me with her, that I..I was family to her. I mean..if..that is alright with you, since you are now the King of Mirkwood. I..I don't want to be left here alone."

Legolas found his fingers trailing over her tear soaked cheek, like satin to his touch.

"When the time comes, you are more than welcome in my kingdom, lady Lola."

There was a silence and an intense stare that delved into each other's souls and then, a sudden urge perplexed the Prince. An urge to kiss the girl.

As he slowly leaned down to do so, Leean began to cry. Legolas swiftly snapped out of his trance and then backed away with baffled eyes.

"I..I will tend to her. Why don't you relax in a bath to calm you while I do so and when you are finished, I will go tend to her mother as well."

"As you wish Prin..I mean King..Legolas." Lola bashfully stuttered and scurried off with butterflies fluttering through her very soul that she had never known to exist.

Legolas cradled and comforted his baby sister as he fed her and while she suckled, her tiny hand came to touch her big brother's cheek. In that moment, soul to soul, through the windows of their moonstones, Legolas realized what a very powerful Princess Leeanduil would be as he was taken aback by a vision. A vision she had the power to show him. A power unbeknownst to him that she had or could have at such a premature age, for she was only less than 2 months old. A power she possessed to show him things she had seen and also, like you, things that were to come...and the vision was so unsettling, that he swore he would never speak of it. It was of you and your distant future that would change everything as he knew it....as you knew it....as his father knew it.

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