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kairos-in-wonderland · 3 years

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Day 3: Wait... What? “It’s Wednesday”

Unlike the first two days for @camelove2021 which were romantic, I chose to go with familial love for day 3, I hope you like it!

Relationships (all platonic): OC and Balinor, Balinor and Merlin, OC and Merlin

Trigger warnings: violence, death, grief

“Balinor!” Bellona called as she entered the cave, “I’m back from the markets, got you some fresh herbs. Where are you?” she looked around, but he was nowhere to be found. The fire that was usually burning in the centre of the cave was cold, not even the embers were glowing, and the sword that was usually propped against the wall had disappeared; she felt her chest tighten as she looked around at everything that was missing, “Balinor!” a sense of panic overwhelmed her, and she grabbed a dagger before rushing out of the cave.

As Bellona searched the forest surrounding their home and continually found nothing, she became more and more anxious, gripping her weapon tighter by the second. It was a couple hours before she found him, but it wasn’t what she expected. Balinor was laid against an old oak, eyes closed and arms laid across his chest with some flowers, “B-Balinor?” she mumbled, walking over to him and dropping to her knees. She tried to shake him awake but he wouldn’t stir so she muttered an incantation to wake him, “No… No!” tears spilled down her cheeks as she held him. Her mind was racing with a million thoughts of what could’ve happened – until she saw the stab wound, which could only mean one thing. Uther. Bellona let out a piercing scream, feeling her eyes burn with magic as trees and flowers flattened around her. He hadn’t deserved to die, he had done nothing wrong, but he had been killed.

She took him to the small clearing by their cave, where her parents had been buried almost twenty years before – sorcerers were not permitted marked graves but she created a small headstone when she buried him, but she did not have time to mourn. She gathered her belongings and set out for Camelot, running as fast as her legs could take her; grief, anger and adrenaline coursing through her. Bellona crossed the border into Camelot as the sun began to set and she could hear loud roars in the distance. She broke into a clearing as an enormous dragon rose into the sky and flew off; knights of Camelot were strewn across the ground with one figure stood in the middle of them. That’s when she saw him, the prince, and what better way to get revenge than to kill the son of her enemy? She drew her sword and ran towards him but the figure turned to her and her she saw something familiar in his eyes, “Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Merlin,” he answered simply, “what were you going to do?”

“Take revenge on Uther, a son for a father,” she muttered, still not willing to lower her sword.

“I understand, but Arthur is a good man, he does not deserve to die for his father’s sins.”

“Well what if it was Arthur who killed him? I doubt Uther would’ve been hunting him, he probably went his son to do the job! If he’s such a good man then he’s probably the one who at least had the decency not to just leave him where he died!” she started to shake and her knees felt weak as she began to cry, “He may have been a dragonlord, but he did not deserve to die!”

“Y-Your father was a dragonlord?” Merlin asked, his voice wavering.

“Yes, he died long ago. And the man who raised me was one too – Balinor,” she said, and Merlin practically froze.

“Arthur did not kill Balinor,” he protested, and her eyes narrowed.

“How would you know?”

“Because I was there when he died,” he told her, tears welling in his eyes, “we had gone to seek his help. The three of us were on our way here when Cenred’s men attacked us, he died to save me.”

“Why you?” she questioned.

“I’m his son,” Merlin said, and she felt her throat close up, “I only found out days ago.”

“Y-You’re Hunith’s son?” he gave her a confused look, “He spoke of her often, the only woman he ever loved.”

“I understand you wanting revenge on Uther for this, he is the reason I grew up without a father, but killing him or Arthur would only make things worse for people like us,” Merlin implored, and Bellona nodded as she sunk to her knees, sobs shaking her body. Merlin knelt down in front of her, and she latched onto him as she cried, both of them taking a moment to share their grief, “Would you like to return to Camelot with us? I’m sure my friend Gwen would be able to give you a bed for a little while?”

“I-I don’t think I could, it would be difficult for me to conceal my magic. Besides, I-I don’t exactly work well in crowded spaces,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes.

“Well, how about you just stay for the night? And tomorrow I could take you to Ealdor,” he suggested, “what’s your name?”

“Bellona.”

“Well, Bellona, I’m sure that my mother would be more than happy to take you in. I think she needs the company to be honest,” they both let out a small laugh, “would you like to?”

“That sounds nice,” she grinned as Arthur began to stir. Merlin quickly stood and rushed over to him, Bellona following tentatively.

“What happened?” Arthur asked, his breathing shallow.

“You dealt him a mortal blow,” Merlin told him.

“He’s gone?”

“Yeah, you did it,” Merlin said, and Arthur began to laugh, loudly and full of relief, “you did it.” He helped Arthur up, and that’s when the latter noticed the new presence.

“Who are you?”

“This is Bellona, she’s a friend of mine from Ealdor,” Merlin lied, “she decided to come and visit, although it wasn’t exactly the right time.”

“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you, sire,” she mumbled, “I hope it would be okay for Merlin to come with me, back to Ealdor? His mother hasn’t seen him in ages.”

“Of course, yes. But for now, we need to get back to the castle. The Great Dragon is dead and my father needs to know,” Arthur led the way to the castle, and Bellona stayed behind him with Merlin.

“Why did you tell him that he’d killed Kilgharrah?” she whispered to Merlin.

“Because Kilgharrah is the last of his kind, if Uther knew that he survived then he’d send knights to try and kill him for good. Not only would it risk the death of the last dragon, but it would also endanger thousands of lives in the five kingdoms.”

“You should be proud of yourself, Merlin. You picked up the language of the dragons quicker than most could have.”

“Well, I have magic regardless of that, Kilgharrah told me when I first arrived in Camelot that it is my destiny to be one of the greatest sorcerers to ever live, to help Arthur unite the lands of Albion… I guess it just comes naturally,” he told her as they walked through the gates. A woman ran up to Arthur and embraced him as an older man walked over to Bellona and Merlin, hugging the latter. As they pulled back from the hug, the older man looked to Bellona in confusion.

“Merlin, who is this?”

“Uh, Bellona, this is Gaius, Gaius this is Bellona,” Merlin introduced.

“Oh, Gaius! Balinor spoke of you. He said you saved him from Uther during the Great Purge, thank you?”

“How do you know Balinor?”

“He raised her,” Merlin answered on her behalf, “she wasn’t there when me and Arthur got to the cave, but she had been living with him.”

“Does Arthur know of this?”

“He thinks that I’m a childhood friend of Merlin’s, from Ealdor,” Bellona answered.

“Good. Now, why don’t you come with Merlin and I to our chambers, we can arrange a bed for you while you’re here,” Gaius suggested.

“I’m going to go and talk to Gwen about that, I’ll see you there,” Merlin ran off after his friend, the woman who had hugged Arthur, and Bellona followed Gaius into the castle. Once they were in Gaius’ chambers, they both sat down to talk.

“How did you end up with Balinor?” Gaius asked her.

“He found me after Uther had my parents killed – he was a dragonlord and she was a druid,” she started, sighing, “he came to try and find my parents after he fled Ealdor. But the only living person was me, hiding under my bed. He took me in, raised me and taught me everything about the art of the dragonlords.”

“How old were you when they died?”

“Three. I was born at the beginning of the Great Purge and they managed to hide in Essetir, not far from Ealdor. Uther must’ve gotten word that there were two magical people hiding in Engerd when he was looking for Balinor because they were killed only a day or so before he found me.”

“But Merlin and Arthur didn’t see you when they went to find Balinor,” Gaius said, “how did you know he had died?”

“I’d gone to Engerd for some supplies and when I returned and he wasn’t there, there was no sign of life, I went looking for him. I searched the forest around the cave and found him dead, I thought Uther had finally found him,” Bellona said, tears welling in her eyes.

“So that’s why you came to Camelot, you wanted revenge,” Gaius mumbled, and she nodded.

“I was going to kill Arthur, a son for a father – it should’ve been easy, he was unconscious. But Merlin was there, I looked into his eyes and all I could see was Balinor. Revenge isn’t what he would have wanted. Arthur doesn’t even know I tried to kill him, but if he knew…” she let out a small sob and Gaius put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You’re thinking that you could see Balinor again if you told Arthur what you did,” Gaius said, sighing, “but he wouldn’t want that either. Balinor found you and raised you, he made sure you had a nice life, he wouldn’t want you giving it up just because of his death.”

Bellona knew he was right, of course he was, but it still hurt. Her grief overcame her, and she couldn’t stop crying, she could feel her magic surging again – and then there were hands resting on her shoulders. She looked up through her tears and saw her father’s eyes, causing her heart rate to slow as Merlin looked into her eyes.

“You’re okay,” he assured her, and she stood up to hug him tightly, “he may not be alive but he’s here with you, with us,” Bellona felt tears drip onto her shoulder so she hugged Merlin even tighter, “I spoke to my friend Gwen, she said that you can stay with her tonight if you want.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, pulling away from the hug, “I, uh… I suppose you two will be wanting to sleep now?”

“Have you had anything to eat?” Gaius asked, and her stomach growled to answer for her, “Sit, I’ll go get you something to eat,” he got up from his seat and left the room.

“Can I ask you something?” Merlin asked after a few moments of silence, and Bellona nodded, “What was he like? I only got to spend a couple days with him and he only knew I was his son for one of them – you grew up with him.”

“He was kind. When he first found me I was terrified, my parents had just been murdered for their magic; he just sat a couple meters away from where I was hiding, he didn’t try and force me out, be just made sure I knew he was there for me when I did come out from under the bed. And when I did, he gave me some food and told me that he was my father’s friend, that I could go with him if I wanted to. He asked a couple of my parents’ friends to help take the bodies to a clearing where we buried them, not too far from the cave. He helped train me in magic, not just the art of dragonlords but also the magic I inherited from my mother, he made me feel like I belonged regardless of what the law was.”

“I wish I could’ve been there with you, maybe then I wouldn’t have had to come to Camelot, we would’ve just been… happy.”

“We would’ve been, but you would’ve come to Camelot regardless,” she said, and he gave her a confused look, “if I remember what I’ve been told by druids, you’re Emrys,” he looked away for a moment, confirming her suspicions, “you said to me that you’re destined to be a great sorcerer and help Arthur reunite Albion – you can’t exactly do that if you’re living in a cave with your parents and surrogate sister. It’s dangerous here, of course it is, but you belong here Merlin.”

Gaius came in moments later with some stew and bread which she practically inhaled – with all of the anger and adrenaline coursing through her she hadn’t noticed how hungry she was. The three of them spent a few minutes in comfortable silence before Bellona said she was getting tired and Merlin left the chambers with her to go to the lower town.

“You’re really gonna like Gwen,” Merlin assured her, “she’s been kinder to me than most in Camelot since I arrived.”

“Does she know about your magic?”

“No… Uther killed her father for consorting with a sorcerer even though he didn’t know the man was a sorcerer – and she’s been accused of using magic too many times. I trust her, but I…”

“You don’t want to risk losing her,” Bellona finished for him, and he nodded, “don’t worry, I’ll make sure I don’t say anything.”

“Thank you,” they came to Gwen’s house and Merlin knocked on the door – the woman in question answered almost immediately with a soft smile.

“Hello Merlin. And you must be Bellona, it’s nice to meet you,” she greeted, stepping to the side, “please, come in.”

“I’ll be back in the morning,” Merlin said, “goodnight Bellona, Gwen.”

“Goodnight Merlin,” they chorused as Gwen shut the door. The girls had a little chat after Merlin left, but finally went to bed; Bellona was hoping to get a good sleep, she was in the most comfortable bed she’d had in years, but that didn’t happen. It couldn’t. She was plagued with nightmares of fire and destruction, and screams of women and children as they ran from the great dragon, Kilgharrah.

Bellona woke up with tears in her eyes and a ghost of a scream on her lips – she sat up immediately and her head collided with Gwen’s, “Ah! Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Gwen assured her as she rubbed her forehead, “you were screaming in your sleep. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-I’d rather not,” she mumbled, moving to get to her feet, “did I wake you?”

“No, no, I was already awake. I haven’t been sleeping well since the Lady Morgana was taken.”

“You were close with the Lady Morgana?” Bellona asked, thinking back to the prophecies the druids had told her about Morgana.

“I’m her maid,” Gwen told her, just as there was a knock on the door and Merlin walked into the house.

“Does he just not knock?” Bellona laughed, and Gwen joined as she helped the girl to her feet.

“No, no he doesn’t,” they both walked into the main part of the room where Merlin was waiting.

“You ready to go to Ealdor?” he asked, and Bellona nodded, “Right, Arthur – for once – actually granted me some time off to take you there,” he looked towards Gwen, “I’ll be back in a few days Gwen,” Bellona gave Gwen a short hug and thanked her for granting her a bed for the night before following Merlin out to the main street. They walked up to the main square where guards were waiting with two horses, “can you ride?”

“Yes, Merlin, I can ride a horse,” she grinned, mounting the saddle as he did. They rode for a couple days to reach Ealdor, spending the daytime to engage in casual conversation which became deeper as they’d settle in for the night.

As the two of them rode into Camelot, there were lots of stares and greetings; Merlin tied up the horses to one of the gates before leading Bellona over to a house on the far side of the village, “Merlin!” The woman in the house greeted cheerily.

“Hello mother,” he replied, hugging her tightly, until she noticed the other person in the room, “uh, Bellona, this is my mother Hunith. Mother, this is Bellona, there’s something the three of us need to discuss.”

The next hour or so was full of confusion, tears and grief as each of them said what they had to – sharing their sides of the story. Hunith was glad that Balinor had lived long enough for Merlin to meet him, and Bellona told them about how he raised her in the cave, “Before you go, Merlin, there’s somewhere the three of us need to go,” Bellona grabbed both Hunith and Merlin's hands as she spoke, “we need to go and say goodbye to him.”

The three of them rode for the cave, but Bellona stopped them as they came into a clearing where three rocks stood in the middle, side by side. Her mother, her father, and Balinor. Together they finally had a chance to say goodbye, and Bellona was sure that Merlin could feel his spirit as she could – by their side forever…

Sorry if the ending feels rushed, my laptop battery is running low and I’m already over and hour into day 4 when I’m uploading this 😅 I wanted to get everything in, even if there is a lack of dialogue at the end. I hope you enjoy today’s submission, happy Camelove! 🥰💜💙

#camelove2021 #day 3: wait... what? it's wednesday #fanfic #violence tw #death tw #grief tw #oc & balinor #balinor & merlin #oc & merlin

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abbyilr1967 · 4 years

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“I’m Not Coming Home” - Dean x Reader (pt.2)

A/n: This part 2 of the “I’m Not Coming Home” Drabble, which I suggest you read. Even though this part is going to be similar to the first, this one takes place from the reader’s POV.

Here is a link to where you can read Part 1. Here is a link to the Mini-Series Masterlist, and here is a link to a full Masterlist of my work.

P.s. - I’m going to be more descriptive in this part, so if some things seem new, it’s because they are.

Summary: As the apocalypse looms overhead, all supernatural beings have their eyes on you and the Winchesters. And they’ll do anything to get their hands on the three of you. But an unexpected connection throws a wrench into a certain demon’s plans.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2.1k

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you say as you slowly pick your head up off Dean’s shoulder after falling asleep while the boys were doing research.

“Ok Sweetheart,” Dean says as he places a quick kiss to your forehead. You pick up your bag off the booth seat, and sling it over your shoulder.

“Do you want me to walk you back?” Dean asks, overly protective of you even though you’ve saved his ass more than once on a hunt.

“Nah, I’ll be ok,” you reassure, ruffling your hands through Dean’s hair in attempts to mess it up.

Dean slaps your hand away. “Don’t be a brat,” he says jokingly. Sam and you chuckle at Dean’s dismay.

“Night boys,” you say before turning to head for the exit.

“We’ll let you know if we find anything,” Sam says over his shoulder as you reach the door. You throw a thumbs-up back at them and push through into the cool evening air.

Once outside you pull your jacket around you a little tighter as you dig around in your pocket for the room key. The sound of your combat boots on the gravel fills the night air. You finally fish the key out of your pocket as you make it to the door. The key slides in nicely, and you unlock the door. You stand in the doorway for a moment to put the key away, door to your room wide open.

Unaware of what's behind you, you’re shoved abruptly into the room, dropping your bag in the door. The shove was powerful enough to push you to your hands and knees, but you’re grabbed swiftly by the collar of your jacket before you can turn around to face your attacker. And in that split second, your assailant wraps their hand around and firmly places a damp cloth over your mouth and nose. You struggle to hold your breath to avoid inhaling what you can only assume is chloroform, trying to come to terms with the fact that whether or not you inhale that chemical does not matter, because you’ll eventually pass out from lack of air.

You break down and breathe in.

After a minute or so you putty in the palms of your unknown assailant’s hands, and you give up the struggle to be free.

You wake with an overwhelming ache in your neck.

“What the-” you try to move your hands, but you notice they are bound to the arms of a chair, as well as your legs.

“For fucks sake,” you sigh, attempting to stretch your neck to relieve the ache as best you could.

“How the hell am I gonna get outta here,” you scan around the dimly light room looking for anything you could use to get free.

As you scan the room, you realize that this really isn’t like any of the other hostage situations you’ve been in. Every other time you’d been tied up in a damp, dark basement, in an uncomfortable chair, with uncomfortably tight bindings. But this was different. You were in what looked like a decent hotel room, with a nice bed. The chair you were in was pleasantly comfortable, and the bindings used, however, still tight, were new and didn’t itch.

“What the hell-” You quickly realize that there was a faint sound of footsteps coming from outside the room. The door to the room was ahead of you, so you mentally prepare yourself to come face-to-face with the thing that seemed to overpower you so easily the night before. The heavy footsteps come to a stop in front of the door, and hesitate before entering.

As the door slowly opens you watch as a tall, slim figured man enters the space.

“Morning Princess,” he snarls.

“Alastair,” you groan. “What the fuck do you want?” you ask angrily.

“Don’t want to chat first Princess?” he asks sarcastically, which only causes you to stare daggers back at him. “No, straight to business it is then,” he drops the bag he had slung over his shoulder onto the floor beside him. It hits the floor with a clank.

“Now let’s see, why did I pluck you away from the Winchesters, hmm,” he brings his hand up to his chin, resting his finger on his lips while he thinks of his answer.

“Why might a devilishly handsome demon such as myself want to do with a huntress, such as yourself, who is affiliated with two of the best hunters the mortal plain has ever seen?” He’s now resting his hands on the arms of the chair you’re confined to, faces so close together you are almost touching. Surprisingly though, he doesn’t smell. You’d never gotten this close to him before, but you’d always thought that he'd smell like the rotting flesh, or death, or something to that effect.

In response to his question you continue to stare deep into his now fully black eyes.

“Fine, play ignorant…” he stands back up from his positions bent in front of you. “It’ll be all over once the Winchester’s come to save you,” his back is to you now, he's fiddling with the items on what you can only describe as a medical cart. The kind you’d see in the shitty medical dramas on tv.

“What are you gonna do to them?” you ask sarcastically. “They beat your ass once, they could do it again in a heartbeat.” He doesn't respond. He keeps messing with the stuff on the table, and after a moment you see him bring a syringe up into the air, as he flicks it to get rid of the bubbles.

“Hey hey hey, what the fuck is that?” you ask, trying to contain the panic brewing in your stomach.

“You asked me, what I was gonna do to the Winchesters, but not what I was gonna do to you,” he turns, holding out the syringe in your direction.

“You see Y/n,” he slowly starts to walk circles around the chair you're bound to, almost as if he’s stalking his prey. “I’ve always had a fondness for you, maybe it’s because you’re the only woman I’ve ever met that challenges everything I do, you’re not as submissive, as the others,”

He comes to a stop behind you, grips a fist in your hair, and yanks your head to the side.

“Ugh,” you groan, realizing that your neck is still aching pretty bad. Alastair leans in, right close to your ear.

“I had a buddy of mine, mix up a magical cocktail that’s going to cause you to become infatuated with me,” he brings the syringe up to your neck, taps you with the needle of it.

“And once the cocktail takes effect, I’m going to use Dean’s overprotectiveness of you, to lure him and Sam to our little couples suite unprepared as they will be, and kill them. So that we can start the apocalypse, sound good to you?” you know he’s asking sarcastically, as he places the end of the syringe to your neck. Just as he’s about to pierce the skin, your mouth opens to speak before your brain has a chance to speak.

“I wanna make a deal!” you blurt out, squeezing your eyes shut waiting for the inevitable stabbing sensation in your neck.

“What,” he pulls the needle away from you, and lets go of your hair.

“I wanna make a deal,” you sigh with relief. Alastair comes back in front of you, staring at you with a confused expression.

“You,” he pauses, “Want to make a deal….” he pauses again. “With me.”

“Yes,” you say reluctantly. “You leave Sam and Dean alone, and…” now you pause, almost unable to believe you are about to say this.

“I’ll help you start the apocalypse.”

Alastair lets his vessel fall into a more relaxed position, as if he’s letting down a bit of his guard.

“You can’t be serious,” he chuckles. “How do I know I can trust that you won’t try to sabotage me?” he questions.

“I know how the Winchesters work,” you start. “I can help you avoid them, their hunter friends, and you can have access to all my resources.”

You can feel the pit in your stomach grow with each passing second of this conversation. You’d never thought that you’d betray the Winchesters, but your only hope now is that they can reverse what you’re about to do.

“You have my word,” you hang your head in defeat, as you can’t see any other options. You don’t want to help start the apocalypse, but you don’t want to hurt Dean anymore than he’s already been hurt.

“Hmm,” he takes a moment to consider your offer. After a moment, he steps closer to you, reaching out and grabbing you by the collar of your shirt. He pulls your face right close to his.

“If you ever try to sabotage my plans,” he pauses, lips centimeters from yours. “I won’t hesitate torture you until you’re begging me to end you, got that?” he asks menacingly.

“Yes,” you whisper back.

“Good Girl,” he whispers, pressing his dry, chapped lips to your soft pump ones. Effectively sealing your fate.

His lips leave yours, and you exhale the breath you felt like you’d been holding forever.

“Now, one last piece of business to take care of,” he says as he walks back over to the medical cart.

“What,” you ask, genuinely confused.

“We have to call you little boy toy, and tell him to stop looking for you,” when he turns back around you see him shaking a little burner phone.

“His number? Princess,” he asks in a fake cutesy voice.

“One, eight-six-six, nine-zero-seven,” you hesitate for a moment, not wanting to finish your sentence.

“Remember our deal Sweetheart,” he presses.

“Three-two-three-five,” you finish reluctantly. He presses dial, and holds the phone up to your ear. The ringing of the phone fills the dead silence hotel room.

“Hello,” Dean’s voice comes through on the other end.

“D-Dean,” you say, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“Y/n! Y/n, honey are you ok,” Dean asks, concern evident in his tone. “Sam and I have been worried sick.”

“Dean I’m fine I-”

“Is there someone with you Y/n?” You were unaware Dean could hear anything other than you over the phone. But at that point all you can muster is a whimper in response to his questioning.

You look up to Alastair as the silent tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“Be a Good Girl and tell him,” Alastair says in response to your inability to speak. “You want to be my Good Girl, don’t you?” he asks. It’s taking all your strength not to scream at Alastair, but you know that it’d only end bad for you if you did.

“Tell me what Y/n? Baby c’mon, tell me where you are,” Dean pleads. You hear Dean pull the phone away from his ear and shout at Sam, but at this point you’re too focused on words caught in your throat to hear what he said.

“Y/n, c’mon honey, tell me where you are,” he continues to plead.

“Listen Dean,” you make eye contact with Alastair. “ I love you ok!” you blurt before Alastair pulls the phone from your ear.

“Please let me say goodbye to him!” cheeks stained with the tears, now violently spilling from your eyes.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Alastair taunts as she holds the phone away from you. “Someone’s not doing as they’re told,” he chuckles. “Someone’s being a Bad Girl,” he puts extra emphasis on the nickname, just to get under Dean’s skin.

“Alastair,” you hear Dean growl through the shitty burner phone.

“Sorry Deano, I wish we had more time to chat, but someone over here is in need of a punishment.” he again puts extra emphasis on punishment, trying to rile Dean up. You would try to struggle to get away, but there’s no point. You’re locked into this now. You sit there as the tears continue to fall down your face.

“If you dare lay a finger on her, I swear to god I’ll fucking kill you,” Dean shouts over the phone.

“Ah, sorry Dean,” Alastair starts making scratchy noises on this side of the call. “I think we’re breaking up,” the scratchy noises continue. “I’m going through a tunnel, call you later.”

The sound of the call ending abruptly is deafening.

“Well now that that’s taken care of, let's get packed and ready to go,” Alastair says cheerfully as he tosses the burner phone over his shoulder comedically.

“We’ve got to start training,” he says as he starts to pack up the materials on the medical cart.

“Training?” you sniffle.

“Yes,” he says matter-of-factly. “Can’t have a disobedient little puppy, now can we.”

@akshi8278

#dean winchester #alastair #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #alastair x reader #alastair x you #alastair x y/n #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural family #supernatural fandom #SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #SPN Family #dark fic

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imaginesmai · 5 years

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Steve Rogers-Be Okay

Plot: HYDRA takes Steve. When you get back to him, he’s not the sweet boyfriend you know.

Warnings: angst. Like, really, really angsty. With happy ending, or maybe not?

“Please” you begged, grunting as the shield hit the side of your face and threw your backwards. You winced at the white-hot burning sensation that then spread across the entire half of your face, cringing when you felt blood fill your mouth.

Steve was quiet in front of you, and continued his advance towards your battered body. You tried to put your hand up and shield yourself from his attack, but he gripped it and slammed your wrist on the ground, the weight of his knee falling onto you. Your scream was so loud that barely perceived the sickening crush of your wrist.

Rushed breaths were leaving your lips as you pushed him away, and you hugged your wrist in your chest. You sent him flying backwards, blue energy emerging out of your good hand and putting some distance between you and your boyfriend. Or what was left of him.

“Please, baby, please” you begged, tears streaming down your face. You kept him down for a few seconds, his pained grunts hurting you more than your wrist. “I-It’s me, Y/N. Don’t do this, Steve. Please.”

Not more than two hours ago, there was a happy smile on your face. A hopeful one. You had found your boyfriend after being taken from you for two weeks. HYDRA had kept him with other prisoners in a secret basement in Siberia. You had been able to rescue every last of them, and you were determinated to save your brain-washed boyfriend too. You felt coldness spreading through you like a disease, making your shiver. It had nothing to do with the cold in Siberia.

Steve’s pupils were as dark as the night sky, the blue nearly non-existent. There was a glow in them that sent chills down your spine, your common sense begging you to do something, anything. But that wasn’t any soldier that you had to defeat, that was the love of your life. The strength in your hand disappeared and Steve was set free. He growled and looked back at you, with those lifeless eyes that would haunt you forever.

You clutched your wrist harder and forced back the tears of fear and pain that pricked at your eyes.

“Steve, this is not you.”

“Shut up” you froze, insides turning to ice. Used to his sweet voice in the mornings, cute kisses on your forehead, his cold voice seemed something straight out of a horror film, deep and distorted. Full of hate.

You felt sick, adrenaline rushing as your mind went into panic mode. As Steve rose up from his position in the ground, you tried to call out for someone. Sam, Natasha, Tony, anyone. Because you knew it wouldn’t come out good. The communication with the team must had fallen down, and they were all still inside that basement. There was no way they would hear you, so you tried other ways.

“You’ve gotta-“

The shield cut you off, hitting your middle with full force and making you choke on your breath. He ran towards you, and you managed to dodge his punch by only inches. For almost five minutes, you battle it out, consisting of mostly you trying to avoid Steve’s hits and not hurt him too bad. Blasts of blue energy tried to keep him tied down, and you found it was harder than what you thought. Steve became more and more frustrated each time you blocked one of his punches, so he decided to use his gun.

He shot two times, one flying past you and the other hitting you on your side. You fell on your knees, clutching your side and gasping for air. Steve stopped too, looking down at you with a small smirk.

“Please, you’re stronger than this” you tried once more, backing up until you met the wall. “I-I can help you, Steve, I can-“

“Shut up!” he bellowed.

Before either of you could blink, another bullet left the gun and tore through your ankle, where seconds ago was your body sitting on the ground. A pained scream left your lips, and your vision became blurry with tears. They leaked from your eyes, as you continued to whimper. You looked up and saw him enraged, but confused. Stories about how he fought Bucky until he was almost on the brink of death came back to your mind; how he managed to pull him out of their control before it was too late.

You opened your mouth again, but he moved faster and had you by your hair in the air, faces inches away from each other. He had his lips pressed in a tight line, his jaw clenched, and you found yourself wanting to hug him. So you did.

Ignoring the multiple injuries your body was managing, your moved your arms to his shoulders and, slowly, hid your face in his neck. His grip on your hair didn’t flatter and you got a constant pain on the back of your head. Steve tensed under you, feeling your tears wet his neck and your whimpers shake your body. He begged to himself to wake up, to wrap his hands around you and cradle until you had forgiven him for the pain he had caused you.

But HYDRA was right, and you were wrong.

His eyes, that had been wide and were starting to regain its blue colour, came back to hard and stone. The hand that wasn’t gripping your hair moved as fast as the sound, and a knife appeared on between his fingers. You were pushed into him as your arms fell from around his shoulders, the knife plunged through your right shoulder.

You couldn’t tell if you screamed first or pushed him away, because the pain was so overwhelming that you blacked out for a second. Your powers created a protective cover for you, pushing Steve a few meters away.

Quickly and desperately, your hand came up and tried to rip it out, to do anything to alleviate the harrowing affliction. The feeling of the metal sliding out was almost as horrible as getting stabbed again, and you sobbed in pain. Clutching your bleeding shoulder, your rolled over onto your chest.

The blue cloud that had been covering your body disappeared while you tried to crawl away, and you were hit with Steve’s shield once again. You felt weightless, flying towards the edge of the building and hearing his steps reaching you. The world danced across your eyes, blood pooling in your mouth and making it hard to breath.

Through your intercom, you heard Tony calling your name; the communication was back and they were out of danger. Steve’s boot came into contact with the bullet wound on your side, and you screamed. Loud.

“Why can’t you just shut up?!” he screamed, his eyes full of rage and confusion. “Shut up! Shut up!”

Steve pressed harder with each word, and a string of pleas left your lips. You were running short of air, and the pain was so bad that you were staring to lose focus in your surrounds.

“I love you” you whispered, and you spat blood on the ground.

Steve screamed in rage, and kicked you one last time, making your body roll on your back and fall through the side of the building.

Through his whipped-brain state, he heard you screaming. He heard each and every hit you took in your fall, your body twisting in ways that shouldn’t be twisted. He heard Tony flying past him and felt Sam’s hands on him, restraining him on the ground thought he knew he wouldn’t be moving any time soon. Also, he saw. Steve Rogers was aware of the way your body landed on the abandoned minivan in the middle of the streets, small and white snowflakes decorating your sprawled hair. He saw how the air left your lungs before your eyes rolled back, one bloodied hand hanging from the vehicle.

Tony landed besides you, his mask lifting and his iron suit detaching from his body. It was still standing, on guard, while its owner ran towards the van screaming your name. He managed to pull you down, not damaging your bruised and broken body anymore.

“Friday, get the jet over here” he chocked out, his own eyes tearing. He watched your stilled chest and the blood leaking out of your wounds. “Make a full scan and send it to Cho, tell her to be ready on the tower.”

“Yes, boss” the mechanic voice answered.

Sam’s face appeared in Steve vision, who couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He saw his mouth moving, yet he couldn’t hear what he was saying. After shaking him a few times and looking to the ground, Steve understood he was going to get him to down. He gripped the captain’s armpits and lowered him until he was in front of you.

Without wanting to, Steve fell to his knees and touched your cheek, aware of the wary looks on his friends’ faces. They didn’t trust him yet; and he didn’t trust himself either. Bruises. Blood. Bent wrist. Arm. Leg. Pierced ankle.

He heard what Friday was telling Tony through his intercom, even if he wasn’t supposed to. Steve barely registered Natasha touching him shoulder. She covered her mouth with her other hand, cursing when she saw you.

“I did this”

Beside the loud noise of the helicarrier coming down, that was the last thing Steve remembered before blacking out.

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

For five hours, the avengers waited while you were in surgery, the doctors fixing what the could and assessing any further damage they may not have caught on the scans. In total, you had five fractures bones in your hand, three bruised ribs, one cracked and two broken, one of which had punctured your right lung. That was because of the fall, which also caused your tibia and humerus to break.

Cho told Tony that the knife might had caused important damage on your shoulder, and she had to take some scans to see so. When she had said that might had problems with the mobility, Steve had broken down into sobs and Sam had to take him away, giving him some sedatives. He didn’t have to hear about the bullet going through your ankle or getting stuck on your side.

By the third hour, Steve could go back to the med bay, his eyes red and his face stone cold, guilt eating him alive. No one could stay still, the possibility of losing an important member of the team too terrifying. Tony tried to talk to Steve, making him see that it wasn’t his fault; that he had been whipped. But the only thing Steve could think about was if the last words he had told you were shut up.

Two more hours passed until doctor Cho appeared through the doors, bloody hands and tired eyes. She waited until everyone was around her, and then started talking.

“She’ll be okay” she said, and there was a collective sigh of relief. Not from Steve, who frowned.

“Will? Then she isn’t okay now?”

“We, uh, had to pump her with enough drugs to make an elephant sleep for a week. Her powers have caused some complications, since they didn’t let us… work on her” Helen looked to the floor, avoiding Steve’s hurt eyes. “She will be sore for months, and probably won’t leave the bed for two or three weeks.”

“That’s what you call being okay?” Steve asked, raising his voice.

“Hey, Cap” Tony raised his hand, making him shut up. “She has done everything in her power, alright?”

“Yeah, sorry” Steve nodded, bringing his hand up to his face, scratching an invisible itch. “And, um, her lung?”

“There was blood on her lungs” she explained. “We drained everything and patched her ribs up, but we’ll have to keep an eye on her, for infections or anything related.

“A-and her ankle?”

“The bullet went straight. Thankfully soft tissue took the damage, but the lateral malleolus got nicked. Nothing we can’t fix.”

“What about-“

“Captain Rogers” Helen interrupted him, giving him a pointed look. “Anything life-threatening has been treated. She will wake up soon, if she’s not already. You can go and see her. One by one, please.”

A chorus of thank you and kind words for the doctor filled the room, but the only thing Steve managed to do was to sit back on his chair, and hide his face on his hands. You could had been dead, and it would be all on him. All because he had been weak, and had hurt you nearly beyond point of repair.

Everyone decided that Steve had to see you first, and between Tony and Sam dragged him to your door. He was totally against the idea of seeing you, but one look from his teammates, his family, made him realise that he had to look past his guilt and see that you probably needed him. As much as he had needed Bucky.

Tony’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present, and he found himself looking at your room’s door.

“I know you feel guilty” he said, his voice soft. “But… don’t let her see that. Just, be there for her. She needs you.”

“Thanks Tony” Steve gave him a small, sad smile.

The door opened and a nurse stopped outside, looking at them with a blank expression. After asking who was going to enter, she told Steve that he had only twenty minutes, something about not suffocating you. When he finally stepped inside, his heart fell to his feet.

You were hooked up to so many wires it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Your broken leg was kept elevated, and your arm hanging, making way for the ventilator that snaked down your throat. It made him nauseous, and he was tempted to go back. Bandages covered your whole body, and two IV bags hung above your head. He closed his eyes harshly, too ashamed to look at you. That was, until he heard his name being called.

“Steve”

It was broken. Steve Rogers was used to your cheerful voice, that managed to make him smile in the worst times. That greeted him in the morning and dulled him into sleep. Your voice was one of his many favourite parts of you, and hearing it so weak and small made tears pool in his eyes.

“C’mere” you mumbled, your eyes half closed.

He reluctantly made his way to you. His hands were on his lap, shaking anxiously, and his body was far from calm. Your right eye, the one that you could open, focused on his anguished face, and you gifted him with a kind smile. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up to brush over the purple circle in your cheek, one of the many that created an horrible painting in your body. He chocked down a sob when your scrunched your brows, and he put his hand back.

“I’m sorry” he said, trying to lift the weight in his chest. He was desperate to tell you so much more, but his lips were sealed with guilt.

“I know” you whispered. With almost an indiscernible movement, you patted the bed besides you and motioned Steve to sit with you.

His own body was sore after the beatings he had taken when he was in HYDRA’s grip. He could feel some ribs broken, and he was sure he would pass out if it wasn’t for you. And for the need of seeing you alive, erasing the image of you laying down in the floor. Not moving. Pushing his pain aside, he sat slowly and turned his face to look at you.

“I’m okay”

“I’m sorry”

“Steve, I’m okay” you repeated, and Steve was finally able to break into a smile. “I’m going to be okay. Just don’t leave me.”

You were going to be okay, he told himself as he kissed your bruised lips, finally the cloud of guilt dissipating. You were going to be okay, he told himself as he listened to the nurse giving you some instructions. He was going to be okay.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

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palpameddaislife · 5 years

Text

"Intrigues in the CIS: Banking Clan Romeo and Trade Federation Juliette"

Before you start reading: This is a crackship fic. Probably the crackest ship. Don't tell me I didn't warn you. (It's interesting tho, give it a chance)

"Our plan is a success." Nix Card said with satisfaction.

"Yes, indeed..." Lott Dod replied.

They were walking side by side as they were exiting the Senate building.

"You sound, let's say, disappointed, Dod... What's wrong?... You didn't like my moves, right?"

"N-no, it's not that... I..."

"Excuses are for lesser droids..."

Lott felt his forehead sweating.

"Gunray is going to smack my head that they let a vote for the Banks to decide for themselves..."

"What now, you don't want my success?!"

"It's not that! You don't know Nute well... He's ruthless..."

"Gunray?! Ruthless...? Are you trying to drive me nuts?!"

"Sigh, Nix... Not now, please..."

"Alright, alright..."

Some time passed, and they weren't talking to each other, until they stopped in front of a hotel.

"What now... You're not going to talk me anymore?..." Lott complained.

"No, you idiot!" Nix chuckled. "I just wanted to play difficult... Here is where I booked for us in Coruscant. Luxury at it's finest! Come, don't make me wait!"

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

"So... What we have here... Dod and Card.... In '24 carats hotel'? Are they messing with me?! Are they conspiring against the Techno Union?! I have to find out!"

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"You cunning little... What have you done here?!" Lott said with a surprised chuckle when he glanced the room they were going to spend the night.

"All this for you, you goof..."

"I'm not a goof! I'm an elegant businessman!"

"Never doubted that." Nix said and removed Lott's hat to land a kiss on his green shiny head. The Neimoidian closed his eyes happily and rested his head on the taller Muun's slender chest for some minutes.

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

The next day, they had to part, to return to their home planets and their business.

Lott couldn't easily leave Nix's waist from his arms or take his head away from his chest.

"Come on, Lott... We're going to see each other soon... We're going to miss our flights..."

"Yeah... You're right... We're Seperatists after all... We are supposed to seperate... Heh..."

"Have I told you that your humor sucks?!"

"Eheh... Yeah... Four or five times..."

"Hey, come on now... We have to go..."

"Alright..."

They picked their suitcases and left the hotel room.

Little did they know about the probe droid that was spying on them all night...

Hours later, Nix arrived on Scipio.

"Senator, Chairman Hill asked to see you." An officer told him, when he got off his ship.

Nix raised an eyebrow to that. What would Hill possibly want from him?

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

"Yes, Chairman?" Nix clasped his hands behind him and stood with respect in front of him. San Hill was on his chair, hands in front of him. His eyes piercing Nix like the cold ice on their homeworld. Nix easily hid his growing stress.

"So, Card... You hang out with Trade Federation, I heard..."

"Yes, I do, where is the problem with that?"

"Well, this." Hill showed a holo-projector with his hand. It was recordings from the probe droid. Very personal and embarrassing ones.

Nix felt his stomach so bad, he thought it could explode. He hid it as well... As much as he could. It was almost impossible. His legs couldn't support him that time... How?, Why?, Who?!... So many questions...

"No way!... How? You spied on me!!"

"Oh, no, no... Who do you think we are, Card, some cheap spies!? We wouldn't do such a thing, but an ally of us had the humble kindness to give us this sensitive information about you, and to warn us for whom we trust... Because trust nowadays has become extinct..."

"B-but... The Trade Federation are allies too!! Why would you mind if?... Well..."

"As I said, senator... Trust is becoming extinct... And honesty too... And if you rely on, or should I say cling to so called allies, they will probably stab your back before you realise it... And I suggest you keeping your distances from senator Dod..."

"You call Lott, I mean senator Dod a liar?! You know something I don't know?!" Nix's worry was now more obvious.

"Everything is possible, Card. Everything. I don't know... But I still advise you to cease your relationship with him... Brfore things get complicated..."

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

After his very unfortunate talk with San Hill, he, very frustrated managed to contact Lott. An awful move for someone with a sharp mind like his...

He smuggled himself to a Trade Federation ship Dod was temporarily staying. For once he's happy they've done that boring conversation regarding the work they had to do, so he knew Lott would stay there to supervise some tasks, without needing to call him via holo-call.

"This is cargo freighter 'The Opulent', identify yourself!"

"This is cargo ship c-111, asking for permission to enter. I carry supplies."

"Ok, c-111, permission granted!"

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

Nix quickly wore a hood and a veil.

"Excuse me, sir! Where is Senator Dod's office?"

"Identification please."

He gave a false identification he had made in case of need.

"Ok, follow me." The guard told him.

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

"Senator? You have a visitor."

"Who is it now, I have work to do!"

"It's a guy named Drac Xin. Should he enter?"

"Drac Xin... Oh, of course he should... Tell him to come in and you leave us..."

"Yes, sir!" The guard left. Nix entered and closed the door behind him. He looked left, then right, behind him, behind Lott very carefully and then hugged him tightly. They didn't part for minutes.

Suddenly, Lott burst in tears, which eventually turned to a panic attack. He was struggling for his breath while clinging to Nix, who was trying to calm him down.

"Ssshhh... I'm here now, no one can harm us, we are safe... Shhh.... Calm down..." Nix whispered whlie rubbing circles on Lott's back.

Nix had never ever seen that side of Lott, weak and scared like that. He even tried to hold back his own tears.

He let the Neimoidian sit on his chair to calm down and he sat on a second one, to the other side of the desk.

He looked in his eyes full of fear and asked him. "Did Gunray learn too?"

The Neimoidian only nodded while wiping his eyes.

"That greedy and suspicious rat!! What did he do to you?!" Nix asked with much concern.

"He threatened me... He said that if I didn't end our relationship, he'd end my life..."

"Kriffing idiot..." Then Nix realised that Lott was right when he said Gunray is ruthless. He got Lott's hands in his and warmed them up affectionately.

"If I ever find the spy, I will cut his throat!!"

"I thought we were about business, not violence..." Lott replied with a forced smile.

"Heh... In this case, business is violence..."

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

That time, the leaders of the three organisations were arguing via holo-call.

"The very kind senator Saam told me some interesting facts, Hill!" Nute Gunray hissed to San Hill. "He told me that your senator spends a suspicious amound of time with mine! Could this possibly mean that you put him to spy on us?!"

"I would ask you the same thing, Gunray!"

"Wait a minute! So you are not conspiring against us?!" Wat Tambor asked full of suspicion.

"Haaa?! So you actually thought something like that?! You filthy-!" Gunray was cut by an incoming transmission from Count Dooku.

"What is going on here, Gunray?!"

"C-count?! Ooh, n-nothing, everything's under control!!"

"A-always under control!!" Rune Haako replied and hid behind Nute.

Hill and Tambor stayed calm when the angry man raised his voice.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about some issues, but I'd rather learn about your issue now. It seems much frustrating. Go on. Talk." The Count demanded angrily.

"You see, my Lord, two of our senators are seeing each other, if you understand what I mean." San Hill decided to talk.

"And where is the problem with that?!"

"It could be a trap, my Lord!! There are many reasons this is a problem!"

"What do you mean?!"

"This snake, Hill has sent his minion senator to make mine trust him for information!" Nute pointed the Chairman of the IGBC with his index.

"Well, how can you prove you haven't done the same?" Hill said with a gesture of question.

"Well, this is of little importance right now. I will speak to them myself later. Now, to our issues..."

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

The next day, Alderaan.

Nix and Lott sat on an isolated bench away from the city, with the mountains as view. They had chosen to travel to Alderaan for a couple of days, because there they wouldn't be the centre of attention, plus the romantic scenery.

"I can't believe the Count was so soft on us... I thought he'd act like Hill or Gunray..." Nix said, his gaze lost in the mountains.

"Well..." Lott chuckled. "I have heard that something's being cooked with him and the General... He probably feels us I think..."

"What?! Him and Grievous?! Holy blasts, this is disgusting!"

"Aah, we shouldn't judge... Love is love, Nix..."

"Indeed..."

Lott leaned against him and they stayed like that for a while.

~the End~

Fanfic by Katrín Die Sith Frau

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enrinkari · 5 years

Text

Ambush

Note: YUP MORE TYRAJIN SHIT FUCK YOU.

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

Tyrathan was never a fan of the holiday Love is in the Air. It felt very fake and way too commercial for his liking. He participated in it, of course. His ex-wife and kids had loved the holiday, and he loved to see them happy, so he did it for them. Now, however, he was wishing the whole holiday would disappear.

"I don't be seein' why ya be actin' like this, love," Vol'jin sighed. They were in the throne room in Orgrimmar, Vol'jin sitting and Tyrathan standing far away, back turned to Vol'jin. "Ya know dese necklaces be meanin' nuthin' but a means for dese adventurers to get some of da tokens da vendor be needin'." Right as he finished saying this, a group of three female trolls came in to deliver their necklaces, giggling and blushing as they handed them to Vol'jin. One of them even blew him a kiss as they ran out, laughing at each other.

"Oh yeah, they seemed to be here just for the tokens," Tyrathan huffed. He didn't like that he felt jealous. He knew Vol'jin would never leave him, but he had also thought that about his ex-wife. "I'm going to go shoot at targets. i'll be back later." He stormed out of the building before Vol'jin could say anything, leaving the troll feeling very confused and, honestly, a little hurt.

When Vol'jin could finally get away from the adventurers a few hours later, he went immediately to the practice range. However, no one there had seen Tyrathan that day. Walking around the city, no one else had remembered seeing him. Starting to panic, Vol'jin went to their private dorm. Tyrathan wasn't there, but a note was.

Dearest Vol'jin,

I do apologize for how I acted today. This holiday just isn't a good holiday for me for various reasons. As such, I will be away on a hunt for the remainder of the holiday. Please know it has nothing to do with you, and I will return. I just need some alone time.

Yours eternally,

Tyrathan

Vol'jin felt his heart drop. Two weeks without his human? That was the longest they've been apart since they reunited after Vol'jin became Warchief. What was bothering Tyrathan so much, and why couldn't he talk to Vol'jin about it? Vol'jin flopped face down on their bed and sighed. His human was so confusing sometimes.

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

Fwoosh.

The sound of his arrow flying through the air towards his target was always music to Tyrathan's ears. The death squeal of the basilisk that the arrow hit was like a symphony. He walked over to his kill and started to skin it. He could sell both the skin and the meat for a decent price back in Orgrimmar.

It had been a week since Tyrathan fled to be alone, and while his heart ached to be back by Vol'jin's side, he knew it was better if he was away. Being alone also gave him time to try to sort through his issues and try to convince himself that what had happened to him before would never happen again with Vol'jin.

The snapping of a branch brought him back to reality. There was nothing - and no one - in sight, which made the snapping even more suspicious. Focusing intently, he silently drew his bow and let out an arrow. It landed in the arm of a stealthed Gurubashi troll, causing him to break out of stealth and cry out in pain. Tyrathan's eyes narrowed. He was about to be ambushed. Quickly he turned around and let loose another arrow, this time into the throat of another troll. Breaking their stealth, five other trolls ran towards Tyrathan, weapons at the ready. Tyrathan quickly sent arrows their way, and a few found homes in the trolls' bodies, but it didn't slow them down. One was quicker than the rest and raised his club up high, ready to smash Tyrathan's head in. He shot an arrow at the troll's feet, causing the troll to jump over it, surprised. As the troll was in the air, Tyrathan bent down and caught the troll with his shoulder. He then flipped the troll over his back and the troll landed with a thud. Tyrathan stabbed him in the neck with an arrow, taking care of one of his attackers.

The other four, now a little wary of this hunter with close combat moves, still charged at him but as one unit now. Tyrathan gave a leap backwards, firing off four more arrows in quick succession. Three of them landed in the legs of three different trolls and they stumbled to the ground screaming. As Tyrathan landed, however, his bad leg gave out and he rolled on the ground a few feet. When he finally stopped and tried to pick himself back up, he had just enough time to look up before the last troll brought his club down on head, knocking him out cold.

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

It had been a restless week for Vol'jin. Sleeping without Tyrathan by his side didn't feel right, and when he could sleep, he had nightmares constantly. Either Tyrathan was leaving him for good, or Tyrathan hated him, or worst of all, Tyrathan was dead. However he had to keep a happy face on for the adventurers. Walking towards the throne room, he rubbed his face with his hands. Just one more week of this. He could do it.

"My my my, someone been missin' dey beauty sleep," he heard a voice laugh behind him. Vol'jin knew that voice. He stopped walking and quickly turned around. "Bwonsamdi, wat you be doin' 'ere?"

"Can't I check up on one of my favorite trolls?" Bwonsamdi smiled. The smile gave Vol'jin the shivers.

"I not be dyin' today, Bwonsamdi, so ya should be gettin' back to wherever ya should be."

Bwonsamdi shook his head. "Vol'jin, do ya remember our last meetin'?" How could Vol'jin forget it. He had begged Bwonsamdi to return Tyrathan to the living world after the human sacrificed himself to save Vol'jin. "What I be tellin' ya dat day?" Bwonsamdi continued. "Dat it wasn't forever, right?" Bwonsamdi gave off a low laugh. "I wish I had known that ya not be keepin' him that long or else I might 'ave said no!"

Vol'jin looked at Bwonsamdi confused for a few seconds before he understood what the Loa of Death meant. He felt his whole body grow cold and felt his heart fall into his stomach. "Tyrathan..." he whispered softly.

"Oh don't be crying now, mon," Bwonsamdi teased, walking over to Vol'jin and putting an arm around him. "Your human not be dead yet. But he's almost there, and well... I be waiting for 'im." Bwonsamdi laughed again, but then yelped when Vol'jin held him against the wall by his neck.

"WHERE BE TYRATHAN?!" Vol'jin roared at him, his eyes almost glowing red with anger. "IF YOU NOT BE TELLIN' ME AND HE ENDS UP DEAD I SWEAR I WILL PERSONALLY END YOU MYSELF BWONSAMDI!"

For the first time in maybe ever, the Loa was scared. "Okay, okay, mon! I be telling you! Just don't be hurting my face! That's my money maker!" Vol'jin slowly put Bwonsamdi down, but stayed glaring at him. "He be in the Stranglethorn Vale. Look, I'll open a gate there, but that's it. Up to ya if he dies." He raised up a death gate from the ground. Vol'jin shot one last dirty look at Bwonsamdi and went through the gate.

-----------

Tyrathan's head was pounding as he slowly came to. He heard voices talking in Zandali, and decided to keep his eyes closed so they would think he was still out cold.

<I've always wanted to see what human tasted like...>

<You're always hungry! Stop thinking with your stomach for once!>

<Hey, wait a minute guys. I think I recognize this one.>

<What?! Really?!>

<Yeah! I bet we could use him to get anything we wanted out of Vol'jin!>

<You will NOT harm Vol'jin,> Tyrathan mumbled. He had no strength to fight, but he would do what he could to prevent them from hurting his troll.

<Whoa! He can speak our language!> One of the trolls walked over to Tyrathan. <I can't believe Vol'jin's pet knows so many tricks. Maybe he also knows how to sleep.> The troll punched Tyrathan in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to pass out again.

-----

The death gate had put Vol'jin at the sight of Tyrathan's attack. He couldn't help but be a little proud that his human had gotten some of his attackers, but he knew he didn't get all of them. He growled when he noticed they were Gurubashi. He wanted to wipe them all out here and now, but he had to first focus on getting Tyrathan back. He got down on his knees and began to "pray," as Tyrathan called it. <Gonk, the great hunter Loa. Please hear my plea. Help me track down and hunt the ones who took my mate from me. Help me save him.> Almost instantly he could feel Gonk give him a boost in power. He could see the way the trolls had taken Tyrathan. He began to run in that direction, hoping he wouldn't be too late.

He found them around a campfire in some ruins. There were five of them, though one of them was still healing a wound in his arm. He looked around and saw Tyrathan, tied up and on the ground, unconscious and breathing fast. Vol'jin tried to control his rage and think of a plan, but then he saw one of the trolls kick Tyrathan in the stomach, causing blood to come out of his mouth. Vol'jin felt the anger overtake him, and he roared, running into the camp faster than a troll should, eyes red with rage.

The five trolls jumped to attention, but before they could even think about what was happening, Vol'jin threw his spear at one with such speed it went thru him and pierced his heart, killing him instantly. The one closest to the now dead troll watched his buddy fall and turned back to face Vol'jin, but Vol'jin grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground, shattering his skull. He then turned to the other three and roared again, more animal than troll.

The three slowly started to back up, too afraid to run but afraid of staying too. One of them had Tyrathan's bow and quiver, and shot an arrow at Vol'jin. The arrow hit him in the chest, but he just pulled it out. <YOU DARE USE HIS WEAPONS?! YOU DARE HURT MY MATE?!?!> Vol'jin threw the arrow back at the troll, hitting him in the eye. Vol'jin used the distraction to run and remove his spear from the first troll's corpse. As the troll pulled the arrow out of his eye, Vol'jin slashed his throat open and watched the troll quickly bleed out.

The other two decided now would be the best time to run away. Vol'jin wouldn't allow them to, however. He tackled one of them and easily ripped his head off. He threw the head at the other head, knocking him down. Before he could get up, Vol'jin was on top of his, squeezing his throat and choking him. <WHEN YOU SEE BWONSAMDI, TELL HIM HE'S NOT IN THE CLEAR YET,> Vol'jin growled as he squeezed the troll's throat tighter and tighter until the troll no longer moved. Vol'jin stood up straight and roared, ready to kill the rest of the Gurubashi.

"Vol...jin..." he heard Tyrathan call out softly and all his anger, all his strength was gone. He quickly ran over to Tyranthan and carefully picked him up. His human was still breathing fast, but at least he was breathing. "Vol'jin...I'm..."

"Hush now, mon. Save what energy ya can," Vol'jin whispered, running a hand gently down Tyrathan's face. "You're okay now. We'll get ya to a nearby camp and then get ya home and 'eal up, okay?" Tyrathan nodded his head slightly before he lost consciousness again. Vol'jin held him tight and ran to the nearest camp. He had to get Tyrathan healed soon or Bwonsamdi would be getting six souls from the Stranglethorn Vale.

----------

This didn't feel like the afterlife. If it was, the afterlife felt like a giant bed. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he wasn't dead, but in his bed in Orgrimmar. He slowly sat up, then winced in pain. His head was still killing him, along with his stomach and leg. But he was alive. He looked around the room and saw that it was covered in the necklaces from the holiday. He picked up the closest one and his eyes got wide. It was for him from Vol'jin. Looking at the others that were close to him, they were also to him from Vol'jin. He guessed that his troll had made all of them for him. He went to get up but gasped at the pain in his body.

He heard frantic footsteps running towards the door, and it swung open revealing a very worried looking Vol'jin standing there, staring at him. Before Tyrathan could say a single word, Vol'jin rushed to his size and embraced him with a hug that was so tight Tyrathan thought he was going to break in half. "Tyrathan, ya okay!" The troll buried his head in Tyrathan's neck, and Tyrathan felt tears starting to fall from Vol'jin's eyes. "I thought I be losin' ya for good dis time. I be so worried. I... I...."

Tyrathan hugged Vol'jin back, rubbing his troll's back to calm him down. "It's okay Vol'jin. I'm okay, thanks to you. Once again you saved me."

After what seemed like an eternity, they let go of each other, but Vol'jin kept a tight grip on Tyrathan's hand. "Why ya be leavin'? Why can't ya talk ta me about it? Did I do sometin' wrong?"

Tyrathan shook his head. "Of course not. I just..." He sighed. "I am afraid you are going to realize one day that you are too good for me and I'm going to lose you. I've been left once before. That plus the fact this holiday has memories attached to her and my kids, and I just was a mess I guess. I knew it would be better if I was away." He chuckled. "At least I thought it would be better."

Vol'jin pulled Tyrathan into another embrace, but was more gentle this time. "Ya shouldn't be thinkin' like that. I be not too good for ya. Ya be too good for me! But I would never, and will never, leave ya, Tyrathan." He softly gazed into Tyrathan's eyes. "You be my home. My mate. And not even da loas themselves will keep me from being with ya."

Tyrathan snuggled into his troll and sighed happily. "Oh," he said suddenly. "What is with all these necklaces?"

Vol'jin smiled. "I be wantin' to show ya how much I care about ya'. I made dem all myself. And even though dere be many, it still not be enough to show ya' how much I love ya. I just ran out of supplies."

Tyrathan gave Vol'jin a kiss, which the troll returned with a hunger. "With necklace to token conversion, I think you have enough here for a mount. What do you say?" Vol'jin didn't say anything, he just began to kiss Tyrathan all over. His human was so confusing at times, but he loved every minute of it.

#tyrajin #World of Warcraft #enrin's writing #Vol'jin #tyrathan #tyrathan khort #I'M SUCH TRASH JUST KILL ME

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kaoru-takaida · 5 years

Text

FFXV Comrades Fanfiction

*SPOILER ALERT*

If you have played Final Fantasy XV and/or watched the Kingsglaive movie that accompanies it, and completed the Prompto DLC, read at your own risk. There are major spoilers in here... So don't say I didn't warn you...

Chapter Five

"When the King had begun to suspect his glaive was unloyal, he lent his right hand, his own sword. 'In every strike you make of me with that blade, a piece of you will die along with me. For those who are unfaithful are no longer who they were when birthed.'"

From the Noble King, Chapter 6.

Lumine warps and drops onto the Magitek robot. Her spear pierces the metal and she shivs it downward into the body of the MA- Patria. As she does, the top part of the robot shatters off, exposing the wires. Gunshots from Prompto pop through the air. Lumine stabs into the robot once more. It jerks forward, trying to swing her off of it. "Agh!" She tightens her grip. Lumine turns. "Prompto!"

Prompto turns around, he pulls up two pistols. "On it!" He fires repeatedly and without stopping into the Magitek's bottom two limbs. Lumine keeps herself down, lest she wants a bullet in her too. The robot collapses as its legs break and bend. It falls to the pavement. "Go now!"

Lumine summons her shuriken and throws it towards Prompto. He spins and kicks it directly upward and into the open air, meters above the robot. Lumine jumps up and immediately warps to it. As soon as the shimmering dust dissipates, she throws it again down into the robot. As soon as it hits its mark on the vulnerable and exposed wiring on top, she warps again, using the impact to crush the wiring inside the robot, landing on it and severing all the wires. Lumine yanks the shuriken out and jumps back, warping a few meters away and in front of Prompto. She immediately casts a Shell Sheild up. As she does, the robot explodes in a dying blast. The Shell takes the impact as both Lumine and Prompto avoid the blast from behind it.

When the debris settles and the quiet sets in, Lumine dispels the Shell, sighing in relief. She smiles to Prompto. "I think we're good." Prompto let's his pistols dissipate. Lumine kicks around some scraps of the robot's remains. The codeprint on it catches her eye. She feels her heart sink, grabbing onto her right wrist.

"Man..." Prompto begins. "We've been fighting a bunch of Magitek lately. Do you think the Empire has a base nearby or something?" He asks. Prompto turns to her. She seems lost in thought. "Lumi?" She blinks once, snapping out of it.

"Huh?" Lumine asks. She clears her throat. "What? Um. No. I have no clue." She shrugs. "Maybe we should ask Monica once we get back to Lestallum?" Prompto takes notice, but Lumine gives him a clueless look. "What? Something wrong?"

Prompto shakes his head once. "Nope... Nothing here." But it's a lie...

Back in Lestallum, Monica smiles to them. But the look in her eyes shows a bit of concern. "The Magitek is no more." Lumine tells her. "Did something happen?"

Monica nods slowly, sadly. "Some hunters were attacked by some Imperial MTs just recently." Monica tells them. Both Prompto and Lumine choke in surprise. "They were attacked quite a ways away from here. Because of this, we've kept Hunters and Kingsglaive members in town till we can investigate."

Lumine sighs once. But Prompto steps forward. "Why don't you have us investigate?"

"What?" Lumine barely gets out.

Prompto seems to ignore it. He gestures to them. "We'll figure out what's going on, and report back to you." Prompto tells Monica.

"That's a dangerous thing to do though..." Monica tells him.

Prompto shrugs. "Both of us are equipped to handle it. And besides, we just have to figure out what they're scheming and run back." Monica considers it and Lumine clears her throat.

"Excuse us a moment." Lumine tells her. She grabs Prompto by the front of his vest and drags him down the stairs near the town entrance.

"Ah! Hey, easy!"

Lumine stops, releasing him with a slight shove. "Are you crazy?!" She snaps. This takes Prompto aback. He hadn't seen her so upset before. "You just signed us up for a mission involving the Empire!"

Prompto scowls. "Why should that matter?" He asks. "We've been taking down Magitek Armors for the past week." He points out. Lumine shakes her head, rubbing her temples. "And I've faced the Empire before. It's nothing new."

"No no no!" She says, now looking more panicked then mad. She grabs him by his forearms. "We can't do this!" She inhales sharply. "I can't do this!"

"Then explain it to me."

Lumine scoffs. "You wouldn't understand! I just... I can't!" She says, fidgeting a bit.

Prompto purses his eyebrows. This was a side of her he had never seen. She's breathing so quickly and staggered that he thinks she's hyperventilating. He takes a deep breath, before closing his eyes. He now takes her by her arms, shaking her slightly and pulling her a bit closer. "Calm down!" He tells her. His firm tone takes Lumine by surprise. She looks up at him, wide eyed. But it had worked. Lumine stares up at him, her breathing slowed. He exhales slowly, softening his scowl and loosening his grip on her. But he's keeping his hands on her elbows. "Tell me... please?" She closes her eyes, thinking it over. Lumine sighs, sitting down on the steps.

Lumine can't believe she's really thinking about telling him. But she knows she can't. She won't. Prompto sets himself next to her. She takes a second. And Prompto let's her. He stares at his boots, allowing her take her time. "When..." Lumine begins, hesitating. "I was younger... I lived in Nifilheim..." Prompto tries not to gasp. But he can't hide the surprise on his face. "I was 10 when I found a way to escape to Lucis..." Lumine props her leg up, hugging her knee to her chest. "The things that happened to me there..." Lumine swallows, voice trailing off. "Let's just say that I'm not exactly on the Empire's good side... So if I were ever taken by them, I would-." She chokes on her words. Prompto can tell that Lumine was hurting. She was holding something back, that much was clear. But it was also clear that whatever happened with the Empire was clearly traumatic.

Prompto considers what he should say. But something happens that breaks his heart. He turns to face her and is shocked to see tears starting to roll down her cheeks. Her eyes are wide and it's something he had yet to see from her: fear. It all became a bit clearer to Prompto. He had known she was hurting. But something broke her for good... (But why is it... that I feel like I'm looking at myself...) Prompto closes his eyes. (Back when everything was falling apart...) Prompto opens his eyes, as Lumine sniffles. (When that happened... what would I have wanted to help me through?) Prompto exhales slowly. He then reaches over and takes her head into his hands. Much to Lumine's surprise, he pulls her head to his chest, hugging it. He doesn't say anything. And Lumine has no idea what to say. But...

Her fear and panic fades with every second he holds her. She can feel his warmth, like a ray of sunshine. And can smell his cologne. A dusty musk with a hint of spice. It was a very fitting scent for him. Lumine closes her eyes, trying to calm herself. (He... is so warm...)

Prompto checks the map, looking around the open shack area. "This was where they were attacked." Prompto says. He turns to Lumine. "That must mean the Empire is close."

Lumine nods, nervous. "Well, stay on your toes. If we are made, we'll have no choice but to run." Prompto nods. They walk out from the shack, and look around. Lumine turns and points. "Let's... head north a bit more. We might see some that way." They both start walking, silence heavy between them. Lumine looks at him. "Th-Thank you... by the way..." It didn't take a lot of convincing after the hug he gave her. She was curious too, as to what the Empire was up to. But she knew that if the Empire got too close, it could be bad for her. And Prompto would get caught in the middle of it. But she felt she needed to thank him, nevertheless.

Prompto gives her a small smile. He scoffs lightly. "I didn't do much. Everyone has their secrets and weaknesses." He tells her. He frowns. "I mean... I can relate because..." Prompto stops. He feels compelled to confess. To tell her. To make her know that he knows what it's like to feel alone.

Lumine stops walking, giving him a questionable look. "Hm?" Should he really tell her, though? He has to wonder.

Prompto now looks nervous... hesitant. He looks away, rubbing his arm. "Lumi... there's..." Prompto starts. "There's something you need to know..." Prompto steels himself, giving Lumine a determined look. "I'm-."

Before he can say anything, beeping interuppts them. And in less than a second, an exploding boom makes everything go black.

Lumine opens her eyes, her ears ringing and her energy feeling drained. She coughs, and tries to catch her bearings. She's on her stomach, and dust clouds are beginning to settle. But to her shock, her weapons lay scattered around her. She can no longer feel her ability to summon them, and this prompts a panic in her. She sits up, shakily onto her hands and knees. As soon as her hearing comes, the familiar sound of Magitek aircraft engines is heard. She looks around. A few meters away, Prompto lays sprawled out on the desert ground. How long had they been unconscious? The little sunlight that was there earlier was leaving. Days were getting scarce as it was, but they must have been out for about 10 minutes. As soon as she gets to her feet, however, she can hear the clatter of MTs. She turns to see a pack of them, heading their way. There must be at least 30 of them.

MTs begin to surround them, and Lumine slides herself over to Prompto. His weapons are on the ground too, and she grabs onto the silver pistol in front of him. She pulls him to her, sitting him up and cradling him in one arm, while holding and aiming the gun in her other hand. "Prompto," she begins as the MTs draw nearer, "wake up! Prompto!"

Prompto stirs a bit, groaning. "I must say, I am a bit surprised." A man's voice comes. The MTs halt, and a man steps out from behind them. He has crazy maroon hair, a black fedora, and some of the most craziest clothing in shades of black, gray, and white that she's seen. A mix of fashionable and formal, and a scarf sprawled over his shoulders. He steps forward, kicking aside her shuriken and lance on the ground. "When I had heard of our most successful specimen being here, I had little hope we'd actually find you." He smiles at her.

She scowls, feeling Prompto shift a bit. "Who are you?" She asks.

He makes a surprised look. "Oh, how rude of me!" He sings. "I should know better in the presence of a lady." He bows politely. "Chancellor Ardyn Izunia, my lady." Lumine scoffs.

"Ardyn Izunia? As in the man who was behind His Majesty's disappearance?" Lumine asks.

Ardyn stands straight. "'His Majesty'?" He smiles. "Oh, that's right. I forgot. You're allied with Lucis. A lapdog of the Royal Family." He laughs. "How quickly you forget... who you really are..." Lumine feels her heart sink, as a pain sinks into it.

He snaps his fingers. The world is black, and she gasps. The pistol is no longer in her hands. Her eyes widen as she looks at her hands, and is surprised that they're not hers. But those of an Impreial MT.

Ardyn smiles as the MTs carry both the unconscious Lumine and Prompto into the Field Airship. He holds up his hand, halting them and looking at Lumine. He takes her by the chin, and chuckles. "You... are going to make my wish come true..."

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composereggwrites · 6 years

Text

Featherfall

Fandom: Twewy

Rating: T

Word count: 1405

Characters: Joshua, Neku

Additional: Hurt/comfort, panic attacks, molting, immature jokes, let friends be sensual gdi

Feathers drift through the air, suspended in space, some fluttering their way to the ground.

The apartment is filled with them, scattered everywhere. Opening the door kicks them up, and they resume their lazy drifting.

“Okay, what’s up? It looks like you killed a dozen swans for their feathers in here.”

Joshua glances at Neku, and in the most petulant voice, says, “Save me, I’m molting.”

AO3 or below!

(Come hang out in my TWEWY discord!)

Feathers drift through the air, suspended in space, some fluttering their way to the ground.

The apartment is filled with them, scattered everywhere. Opening the door kicks them up, and they resume their lazy drifting.

Neku steps into Joshua’s place, tiptoeing around the mess.

“Josh, where are you?” he calls out, to receive a grunt in reply from the bedroom.

Unease settles in his stomach like a wad of cotton drenched in mucus.

Feathers are part of Joshua’s wings. His wings contain the essence of his Soul. Neku doesn’t know much, but he figures losing this much of your Soul isn’t good for anyone. He imagines it feels strained and pulled apart and incomplete, like if he lost his headphones, or his dominant hand.

Opening the door to Joshua’s room, he expects to find disaster, an injured friend, blood and guts or static bleeding from a wound.

Instead, he finds Joshua curled up in bed on his stomach, wings splayed out and hands clenching at his head, but otherwise fine.

“Okay, what’s up? It looks like you killed a dozen swans for their feathers in here.”

Joshua glances at Neku, and in the most petulant voice, says, “Save me, I’m molting.”

Neku snorts. “So you didn’t kill any birds then?”

A pillow hits him in the head. “I’m serious, this is awful. It’s itchy and painful and I can’t even scratch it because it’s metaphysical. Have you ever had your Soul itch? It’s not fun!”

Minding the wings, Neku plops down on the edge of the bed, expression softening. “Is there any way I can help?”

Silence falls, and for a moment Neku thinks he’s made a misstep, but before he can panic and apologize, Joshua sighs. “If you want, you can brush through my wings. Pluck the loose feathers.”

Neku swings himself up onto the bed further, settling with one wing over his lap as he starts to comb through it with his fingers. A cut-off whimper almost makes him stop when he plucks the first feather, but Josh waves him on.

“It hurts, but it’s like pulling a loose tooth. Stops the prolonged pain.”

He’s not sure what he was expecting under the white fluff, but when he sees the same black iron-wrought wings Reapers have, it’s unsurprising. What does surprise him is the thin, shimmering coating encasing the entire wing, a filmy skin, translucent creamy-white and humming.

It’s Joshua’s Music. The realization strikes him, but he keeps himself from recoiling at the thought. The hum vibrating throughout is his Music, and the translucent material is his Soul.

With steady hands, he runs his fingers through again, and presses down deeper at a bald spot. It’s digging into silly putty, surface unbreaking but moldable, and while the current buzzes under his fingers, Joshua melts.

The groan he makes freezes him, before he realizes it wasn’t out of pain, but relief. Aloe on a sunburn relief.

“Do that again. That felt good.”

Neku laughs, but complies, taking his time as he gives the wing a light massage. “You’re so needy.”

“You try molting sometime. Get a taste of this horrific pain, if you think it’s not that bad.”

“Nah, I’m good. I can see how grouchy it makes you. Mr. Grinch levels of grouch over here, no happiness allowed, huh?”

“You know, you shouldn’t be rude to someone who’s--” Joshua’s voice cuts off as Neku scratches near the base of the wing, sticking in his throat.

“Mm, there. That’s good.”

Neku scratches again, rolling his eyes as Josh moans. “Do you have to make those noises?”

“Embarrassed, dear? Nobody can hear us, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Dude, no!” He swats Josh’s head as they both laugh. “You just had to go there, didn’t you?”

“Where else am I supposed to go? I mean, you’re clearly helping me out with my problem.”

“I could stop, you know. I could stop and leave you itchy and miserable,” he says. The menace he’s aiming for is broken by his stifled chuckling.

“Rude. It’s always less satisfying to take care of such things by yourself,” Joshua says, deadpan, with no cracks in his facade.

“Oh my god, fuck you!” he says, realizing his mistake a second too late.

“I wasn’t aware you were into necrophilia, dear,” comes the lilting reply.

“I’m getting a divorce. I’m divorcing you over that joke.”

“We aren’t even dating.”

“A friend divorce, because you’re awful.”

Josh bursts, laughing hard enough to shake the bed, and Neku yelps when he suddenly flops over, draping his other wing over Neku’s lap.

He gets back to work as Josh’s laughter dies down, giving attention to the new wing.

“If I’m really that awful, you should’ve shot me when you had the chance.”

The wire snaps. Ice shards slice through his veins, cutting through his skin, cutting to the core. Time is fake and it burns at his brain. A gun is in his hands and the metal bites, the bullet bites, the countdown pounds against his skull. There’s red and dull violet eyes and cold concrete beneath his head and red, red, so much red--

A shriek stabs his ears, piercing through the liquid clog of fear. There’s a voice speaking to him, he realizes.

“--ku, Neku, breathe. Deep breathes, in and out, breathe.Yeah, yeah good--Like that. Slow, in through your nose. I’m sorry, shouldn’t have made that joke. Breathe out now. Everything’s fine, we’re at my place, not back in the Room of Reckoning. Deep breathe in, maybe unclench your hands? Good, thanks. Okay, breathe out. I’m going to count for you, five in eight out, okay? One, two, three, four, five...”

He listens to Josh’s commands, and the fuzz starts to clear, sight sharpening into solid pictures. Brain static fades as his hands relax. He lets Josh’s voice wash over him, quelling the panic, stormy waters turning calm. Simple numbers, simple instructions.

The eyes in front of him are brilliant, sparkling, nothing like the dead ones in his memory.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before Josh breaks from the counting, but when he does, it’s to say, “Okay, feeling better?”

Neku nods. His head is still stuffed with cotton, but there’s less, thought processing is back online, and with that-- “Did you just Imprint me?”

“You were having a panic attack, what else was I supposed to do? Let you freak out forever?”

Which, okay, fair. “You could’ve not made that joke,” he hisses, but there’s no venom in his bite. Josh is Josh, he says stuff like this, Neku thought he was used to it. He’s joked like that before himself, it shouldn’t bother him anymore. It shouldn’t freak him out like that.

“Yeah, I didn’t think before I spoke, sorry.”

“It’s… I’ll be fine. Thanks for talking me through it.” The tunnel vision hasn’t gone away yet, but sensation is trickling back. He doesn’t mention Joshua’s hand in his hair, doesn’t know how to put it into words yet.

“Least I could do. You should… You should rest, though, you’re probably tired.” He is, and once Josh says it, it hits him with the force of a tidal wave, crashing down on him until he collapses, laying sideways.

“I’ll still be here when you wake up, so sleep.”

Neku listens.

The pain in Joshua’s wings has faded, but an ache still pulses.

The fact that Neku is asleep, head in his lap, soothes his Soul, ruffled feathers healing back to normal. He should’ve known better than to make that joke, with Neku’s hand in his wing.

Around Neku, Joshua forgets that he’s dangerous. Forgets that normal people shouldn’t be able to touch his wings at all. Shouldn’t be able to hold up against the pure, unfiltered power of his Soul.

Neku is special, but even he can’t withstand everything. A seawall can only withstand so much, a tall enough wave can overwhelm it. Negative reminders, with his Music amplifying the related emotions? Joshua is lucky he only ended up with a few broken feathers, and not a dead friend.

Joshua trusts Neku with his Soul, trusts that he can put himself at Neku’s complete mercy, but even if Neku makes him feel alive, he needs to remember that he isn’t.

He can play pretend, breath and warm his skin and eat, but at the end of the day, the falling feathers are the proof of his consequences.

#twewy #the world ends with you #Subarashiki Kono Sekai #Neku Sakuraba #Joshua Kiryu #yoshiya kiryu #joshneku #but like #qpp style joshneku #wing things #molting #panic attacks #egg writes #text

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kitanoko · 7 years

Text

@totallynotasupercomputer: “How about Todoroki going full Endeavor because Momo got hurt?”

Note: Thanks for your request! This one is more serious and also to those wondering if Komeda Coffee is a thing…well it is! Its a coffee shop originated from Nagoya and is famous for their Shiro-noir dessert :) Enjoy!

In which the flames aren’t just red

It’s not every day you get to see Noumus busting into the city, stomping on pedestrians and wreaking havoc in Yaoyorozu’s favourite Komeda Coffee. But there they are. Sparks flying, buildings set ablaze with pieces of concrete whirling through the air. Not that this was completely new to her.

She shot out of her seat the second she heard the alarm. Yaoyorozu didn’t even have time to sigh. Screams of panic and turmoil coerced her to work quickly, leading those in need out of the facility first. Some of the employees in the kitchen hurdled out the counter and ripped off their aprons as they ran. Yaoyorozu made lights (with fully charged batteries of course) instantaneously and positioned them along the exits as the power in the coffee shop wheezed into a stop.

She hadn’t forgotten the training she received from the pro rescue hero, 13, who gave both Uraraka and her some private lessons right before their graduation. He did praise the two for their talents and if there was any merit to it, she had better put it to good use.

“Over here!” She waved her arm over to the closest exit and then forged a metal girder to hold up the ceiling to her left. She yelled once more, even louder, “DON’T PANIC! I’M HERE, JUST FOLLOW THIS PATH.”

An abrupt rumble warned her of the collapse of a nearby column and Yaoyorozu leapt into action. Moving fast to cover the young boy crying next to the concaving structure, a sturdy steel panel popped out from both her elbows to cushion its fall. The boy, red eyed with swollen cheeks, hugged her in gratitude and ran out to his mom.

If only 13 could see her now.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKK” An ugly, gut-wrenching shriek dragged the heroine back to the task at hand and two Noumus stood there, greeting her with its drooling beaks.

Of course, the wreckage was only the prelude to the fight.

“One of those Frankensteins, I would be able to handle, but two?” Yaoyorozu said to herself under her breath and gulped. This was not going to be in her favour. She hurried to press the emergency back-up button on her costume and did a brief 360 around the room. If she wanted to survive, she’s going to need to know her surroundings. At least everyone had already escaped.

Within two seconds, one of the Noumus jumped into midair, crashing through the ceiling and came hurling down, just as fast, aiming right for Yaoyorozu. She dodged by the skin of her teeth. Along her arm, a shot gun began to show itself. Wasting no time, Yaoyorozu skidded to a halt and pulled the trigger right at the Noumu’s face.

Brain goo and whatever else that was pink was blown out, making a loud SPLAT onto someone’s abandoned coffee mug. She knew that was only enough to hold him off until he regenerated.

The other Noumu came charging in and did an indiscriminate swipe at her, perhaps noticing that its partner was temporarily out of commission (heck, what was Yaoyorozu thinking, they don’t even have the intellect to understand what ‘partner’ meant, so nevermind). Once more, she pivoted on her right heel and evaded the blow.

I can’t do this forever, the unpleasant thought made her throat dry with anxiety, maybe five more minutes and I’d be as good as dead.

A stray piece of wood whooshed past her as one of them hammered their fist into a table. The creature twisted it’s neck a few times, eyeballs whirling around to focus, until its pupils centred at the girl. That was probably one of the most disgusting things she had ever seen, if you don’t count the brain guts from the other guy. Yaoyorozu breathed deeply a few times to calm herself, carefully analyzing her next move. It’s okay, Yaoyorozu thought, just pretend this is another strategy game…like chess.

One exhale and she picked up her head. Her weight was on her right leg, ready to leap with her left once-

She was a second off. The Noumu charged head first into her torso, subsequently latching onto her throat. She could smell fresh blood and decay from its foul breath. Fear protruded from every orifice on her body and for the millionth time, she questioned why she was able to become a heroine.

No, I won’t lose, she thought as her desperate attempt in prying the lab experiment off her neck was to no avail. Yaoyorozu created a sharp blade from her neck, stabbing right through the Noumu’s palm. The Noumu screamed in agony, looking even more insane than it did a minute ago, and still, it did not let go. Using the other hand, the Noumu plucked out the blade and threw it onto the floor.

Yaoyorozu eyed the blade, any previous desire to praise herself gone. Even that didn’t work.

Her shaking arms lifted up, but the sweat in her fingers plagued her as she tried to get traction along the Noumu’s wrist. Her mouth opened slightly, trying as hard as she could to muster the strength to swallow air, but the monster strained harder.

Tick, tock.

Her consciousness began to whisk away. She’s going to…going to…

“DETROIT SMASH!”

The Noumu was suddenly flung onto the other side of the room. Feeling herself sliding down the wall, her eyes fluttered open, recognizing the green messy bed-hair of a friend standing adjacent to her frail body.

“Mido…riya-san,” she said in a soft whisper. Her ribcage felt as though someone pierced it with a knife as she tried to steady herself, most likely caused by a fractured bone. Her hand palmed her throat as she lied still, leaving herself in a fit of dry coughs. Yaoyorozu knew she had no power to create any medical kits for herself. Midoriya, with sweat dripping down his forehead, turned to give her a thumbs up, before jumping to ready another attack.

How pathetic, I’m a heroine who needs saving.

Her thoughts fragmented as someone propped her upright, leaning her against their shoulder.

“Yaoyorozu, can you hear me?”

The girl’s eyes fixed onto his face, experiencing a surge of relief she couldn’t put into words.

“Todoroki-san.” The corner of her lips lifted to a small, but substantial smile.

The boy, however, did not return the gesture. He had on his usual impassive expression but was now donning eyes so chilling that Yaoyorozu could feel it ripple through her skin to her bones.

His blue eye, that Yaoyorozu had grown to love, glowed so intense that one glare could strike an enemy down, while his usual warm, grey one looked almost glazed over, as if to say ‘nothing could hold me back’.

And she recognized them as the eyes of his father.

“Don’t talk, just rest,” he hushed her and she could see, somewhere in his perplexed thoughts, that he wasn’t going to fight like he used to. Before the boy eased her by the wall, she squeezed his hand with the last drop of strength she possessed as if telling him to be patient. To be calm.

Yaoyorozu stared at him longer, yearning for him to understand her, but he was already metres away.

A current of sweltering heat covered her senses as Todoroki strided into action. His fire embracing the Noumu in front of him like he was challenging it to counter, and his voice began to boom across the room

“COME GET IT,” Todoroki’s voice was terrifyingly loud, “YOU WANT A FIGHT, DON’T YOU?”

Yaoyorozu’s eyes widened, wanting to stand up, but her legs swiftly gave in. From the side, she could see Midoriya’s confusion as well. That was not the Todoroki she had spent countless hours with. That was not the Todoroki that she came to understand. Her brows furrowed as another wave of scorching fire rocketed through the facility.

But it wasn’t just fire. It was blue fire.

Todoroki took a step back as the Noumu, looking as though it was burnt halfway to a crisp, extended his arms to get a hold of him. The fire and ice hero propelled his left fist forward and grasped the monster’s neck before combusting it into a bonfire of aquamarine.

Yaoyorozu would’ve said it was beautiful, if it weren’t for Todoroki’s killing intent.

The Noumu broke into pieces of charcoal, some of its parts immediately rustling into bitter ash. Todoroki’s chest heaved a few times, feeling the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, and looked almost too proud.

Midoriya, on the other hand, was pushing his Noumu head first into the wall. It appeared to be significantly weakened but was able to rise up into the air with its last momentum.

Oh no. The girl could feel herself shaking uncontrollably as the Noumu crash-landed right in front of her, arms ready for a punch.

“Yaoyorozu!”

Under such immense pressure, she could still hear him screaming for her. Yaoyorozu dug her fingers deep onto her thigh, waiting for impact.

But it never came.

The Noumu in front of her screeched as it was enchained in ice. Todoroki seethed through clenched teeth, manipulating his billowing hellfire around the creature. Gradually, the Noumu began to disintegrate, its remains carbonized into nothingness.

“I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU,” Todoroki called out, “NOT UNTIL-“

“That’s enough.”

Her voice didn’t reach him, the air around still broiling. He appeared as though a valve broke in him, power growing with no inhibitions. She could see the fire slowly amplifying and engulfing the room. Midoriya took a step forward, attempting to reach Todoroki but was blown away by the hot currents that exerted from the fire.

“Todoroki-san, please, that’s enough!” With tender eyes, she gazed at him and shouted, “Look at me and stop!”

The boy’s chest rose with each weighty breath and his arm declined, the magnificent flames along with it.

“I’m okay,” She could see him running to her and she found herself repeating again, “I’m okay.”

“I…I didn’t know what came over me,” Todoroki knelt down and said in a murmur. He lightly pulled her head to him, careful not to agitate her wound but she still pursed her lips in pain. As she nuzzled into the comfortable bend of his shoulders, she languished at the smell of burnt flesh lingering through the air and found him leaving a small kiss on the crown of her head.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered, but she could catch every emotion in that sentence, “when I saw you like this, I felt so useless. Useless that I couldn’t –“

“Well, I’m fine now,” she answered, “Thanks for coming.”

Todoroki held her firmly again, reminding himself to check the bruising prints left on her neck, “Yaoyorozu, what can I do to make you feel better.”

It sounded more like a command than a question, and she wanted to laugh.

“Well, for one thing, call an ambulance.”

Midoriya cut in shyly; the whole time he’s been standing off to the side, hoping not to disturb the two, “I already called it, Yaoyorozu-san, they’ll be here in a minute or less. Bakugou just texted and said his area is clear too.”

The girl gave him a grateful smile before holding her ribcage, muffling the sharp sting, “Todoroki-san,” she continued, fingers tapping playfully against his forearm, “I didn’t get to finish my Shiro-noir cake, so if you could take me to Komeda Coffee after my recovery then that’d be greatly appreciated.”

Todoroki nodded, the grin on his face juxtaposing with his usual callous expression, “Sure, anything.”

He focused on her, the storm in his eyes now settled and finally, they could hear everything come to a standstill.

#todomomo #fanfic request #todoroki x yaoyorozu #bnha #boku no hero academia #angst #todoroki shouto #momo yaoyorozu

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promisedangel · 6 years

Text

Predatorshift- Chapter 12

First

Chapter 12- Surprising Deals

Gaster’s immediate action was to teleport into a small room within his lab. It held a number of screens and monitors than occasionally changed to new locations. There was a chair in the center of the artificially lit room, where Gaster’s loyal assistant, Asgore, sat examining the monitors. Or, that is what he should be doing. Gaster saw a book in his hands, one that was slightly warped by water and time. It appeared to be a gardening book, one of Asgore’s favorite subjects.

Gaster cleared his throat, alerting his assistant. Asgore gasped slightly and hurriedly stuffed the book in his lab coat. He spoke nervously, “S-s-sir! You’re back!” Gaster narrowed his eyes in disappointment. He silently made a mental note to punish his assistant at a later time. That was until he saw that the fur under his assistant’s eyes were stained with the remnants of tears. He quickly noticed that Asgore’s eyes were swollen slightly as well. He had been crying. One of Gaster’s eye sockets twitched slightly, but he managed to push aside the thoughts in his head and spoke bluntly, “Where are Chara and the new human?” Asgore immediately avoided Gaster’s half-glare. He blinked and stuttered while he fidgetted with his hands, “I-I um… well…” Annoyance seeped into Gaster’s voice, “I told you to keep an eye on them.” Gaster quickly smirked and spoke smugly, “Perhaps you secretly wish to be rid of them after all?” Asgore quickly reacted. He scowled and roared with confidence, throwing the book from his coat in the process, “I would never want that!” Gaster flashed a surprised expression before his tone and face returned to a calm, neutral manner, “Then what is their status?” Asgore took a second to allow his anger to melt away. He gave a heavy sigh, “Well...” Asgore began to mess with the cameras. Sorrow slowly bled into his voice, “When I… last saw them… Chara… they had to… they had to kill Toriel.” Gaster held his hand tightly, shaking slightly. He attempted to keep an even tone as he spoke, “As... unfortunate as that is, where are they now?” Asgore sniffled and whipped away the tears that threatened to fall, “I saw them go deep into Waterfall, in the area with the damaged cameras. And… I saw them enter Hotland.” He raised and brow and held his beard as he turned back towards the monitors, “Strange… they should be here by now.” Asgore pressed a few buttons, switching the view to various cameras in Hotland. Asgore exclaimed as he saw Chara on one of the monitors, “Ah! There is Chara! But… they are alone…” Asgore’s eyes widened, they saw Chara clutch their arm on the screen, “Are-are they injured?!”

Gaster’s expression turned dark as he saw Chara on screen. He quickly and aggressively grasped the collar of Asgore’s lab coat, much to Asgore’s surprise. The two teleported to Chara’s location before Asgore could fully react. Chara was at the Hotland elevator, they had raised their arm to push the call button before they froze. They heard the sound of Gaster’s teleport behind them. A chill ran down their back. They let out a small gasp before they felt something grab hold of their soul. Gaster used blue magic and lifted Chara towards them. Chara was stiff, fear was quick to light up their expression. All they could do was clutch their new first–nearly second-degree–burn on their left arm. Gaster scowled at them and spoke darkly, “Where is the other human?” Chara hesitated to speak for a moment, they could only shake while their soul was encased in the blue magic, “We- we had a run in with a few pyropes-“ Gaster’s scowl deepened for a moment. He slowly closed one of his palms, and Chara began to squirm and quiver. They nearly let out a cry of pain. After a brief moment, Gaster uncurled the same palm. His expression leveled, but his tone did not, before he continued, “I did not ask what happened. I asked where the human is. Now… Where. Is. It?” Chara‘s breath became heavy for a few moments. They gave a pleading gaze towards Asgore. Asgore shuffled his hands nervously and turned their gaze away. Chara quickly turned their gaze back to Gaster and spoke, “Somewhere in... Hotland…” Gaster spoke bluntly, “So, it escaped again. You disappoint me, Chara.” Chara’s voice cracked as they pled, “All they do is run! It convinced Asriel to go with them-“ Gaster quickly threw Chara against the elevator, pressing the call button with their back in the process. Chara yelped and landed on the ground, winded from the attack. Gaster looked down at them and spoke, “Do not despair, Chara. I have decided not to kill you.” Chara raised a brow, unable to respond before Gaster continued, “Return to the lab. It should be safe for you there.” Gaster flashed an impish grin, “I will finish the job.” Chara struggled to stand, “N-no!” Gaster frowned, “This is not up for discussion. Your ineptitude to finish the job shall not stand any longer.“ Asgore raised a brow, “Sir? Forgive me, but this is most unlike you. Are you a-” Gaster sharply turned his gaze to his assistant. A chill ran down Asgore’s spine and he quickly quieted. Gaster spoke bluntly to his assistant, “You should be overjoyed at this decision. At the very least, your children will live to see the surface.”

Chara interjected once more, “I will not let you kill them!” Gaster turned his gaze back to Chara, whose eyes were aglow with their rage. Chara continued with a determined declaration, “I will kill them. I will not allow them to go unpunished for taking Rei from me!’ Gaster frowned, “You have failed. Twice. This human is clearly too much for your skills. Now-“ Chara interjected once more, “All they do is run! They are wea-“

A wall of sharp bones burst forth from the ground and halted just in front of Chara’s neck. The glow in Chara’s eyes vanished in an instant as terror overcame them. They backed every small bit of their body back against the elevator, terrified to move a muscle and risk being impaled on the sharp bones. Yet, they could not help but shake, and even a few tears began to well in their eyes, slightly obscuring the lava light-lit bones that threatened their life. Asgore gasped but did nothing, unsure whether this was a bluff. Gaster growled, his expression tired and angered, “The human is stronger than they appear, child.” Chara turned their gaze onto the caster of the spell and spoke, their voice wavered, “H-how would you know that?” “Papyrus is dead.” Asgore’s eyes widened, “Th-the Prince?! But, how?!” Chara had no reaction but slowly recovered from their fear as Gaster spoke, “I found the Prince as a pile of dust, with a message that referred to a human. However… I found many more letters with many different scenarios. I can only assume the human tricked Papyrus into pointing out that specific letter before the human killed him.” Chara muttered, now calmed, “That is a large assumption.” One of the bones grew just enough to pierce the skin on Chara’s neck. Chara once more stiffened against the elevator door and said nothing. Gaster nearly huffed, “I do not need your smarmy remarks. Return to the lab. I will take care of the human and return Asriel to you.” The bones retracted and disappeared. Chara dropped to their knees. They sighed and conceded as the rubbed the new wound on their neck, “Fine.” They stood and scowled, “But I want at least one stab while they are alive.” Gaster smirked, “I believe that can be arra-“

Gaster felt a sudden, semi-continuous vibration from his coat pocket. He pulled out a small flip phone from said pocket to discover a call for him. He answered the call calmly, “Yes, what is it?” A familiar voice echoed through the phone, “Is that any way to address your king?” Gaster stood stiff and turned away from Chara, “My king! My apologies, I did not know it was you!” Asgore and Chara’s eyes widened at Gaster’s words but kept quiet. Chara also felt the elevator doors open behind them. Before Chara could slip into the elevator, Gaster once again grabbed Chara’s soul with blue magic with only a quick glance at them. Gaster scowled at Chara as Sans spoke, “Eh, I’ve been switching phones a lot lately, so I’ll forgive that. For now. Anyway, I’m dropping by the lab soon. I need those cameras you got around the underground for something.” Gaster returned most of his focus to the call and spoke nervously, “How gracious of you to alert us of your arrival.” Sans chuckled, amused, “Yeah. You got five minutes. I got some lunch to finish.”

The phone call ended abruptly. Gaster sighed and put the phone in his pocket. He looked towards Chara with a grumble, “The king is on his way. If I am not there to… entertain him, then there will be trouble.” Chara smirked, “Then, it would not be wise for me to return to the lab.” Gaster glared at Chara for a moment before he threw Chara up in the air for a brief second before he dropped them to the ground once more. Gaster glared at Chara deeply as they spoke, “I am only giving you this last chance because I have no choice. Find the human, and call me when you have them in your grasp. It will be killed in a safe location. Understood?” Chara stood and avoided Gaster’s gaze, “Yes… sir.”

Gaster bent down and grabbed Chara by their chin before he forcibly turned their gaze towards him. Chara’s eyes widened slightly and they tried to tear themselves from Gaster’s grasp to no avail. Gaster ignored Chara’s apparent panic and spoke, “I should not need to remind you of the consequences of failure, but I will since you seem so prone to it….” Chara glared at Gaster and retorted, “There is a human saying. ‘Third time is the charm’. It means that the third attempt is the one that will bring success.” Gaster let go of Chara’s face and stood tall, “For your sake, you should make it a success. Or you will die.”

Gaster turned back towards Asgore, “Come. We have a king to entertain.” Asgore nodded, “Yes, sir.” Gaster grasped the collar of Gaster’s lab coat once more, but this time was much gentler. The two disappeared with naught but a small sound. Chara stood there, holding their new wound once more. They sighed and turned towards the now open elevator and entered without a word. Chara looked at the many buttons, not sure which one Asriel or Frisk had pressed. Chara muttered, “This will be difficult.” Chara pressed the button for one side of Hotland’s top floor. The elevator door closed before the elevator moved slowly. Chara slowly removed their coat to reveal the white tank-top beneath. They ripped the bottom of the shirt and began to wind the cloth around the burn. They hissed slightly through their teeth and grunted as they wound and bound the wound tightly with no ointment to soothe it. Chara gave a relaxed sigh, knowing the worst of it was now done. They quickly dug out the bag of dust from their jacket and began to reapply the dust onto their clothes. They were careful in applying the dust over their wound, they even bit their lip in anticipation of any sudden pain. Some came, but it was more so from jerking the arm around than the dust application. Chara stuffed the now empty bag into their coat, satisfied at their new coat of dust. They pulled their hood up, some bits of monster dust stuck in the hood became entangled within their hair.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. It revealed a long, straight path to their right and a crumbling path to their left. No sign of Asriel and the human. Chara sighed before they muttered quietly to themselves, “This will be harder than I thought.”

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

Gaster and Asgore waited for Sans in the main entrance room of the lab. It was only two minutes before another being teleported into the lab. King Sans threw off the hood of his cloak, revealing his face with fresh dust around his jaw. Gaster paid no mind, but Asgore avoided Sans’s gaze as the two gave a light bow to their king. Gaster spoke, “And you said your visit is about the camera system?” Sans wiped the new dust way from his teeth, “Yeah. I decided to use it for a special hunt.” Gaster raised a brow, “Special? Is there… a particular monster you wish to devour?” Sans grinned, “Nah, something better. Just thinking about the two of ‘em is making me even more hungry.” Sans licked the dust on his hand, almost lightly chewing it. He let go before he spoke, “A little weed told me there are two humans down here.”

Asgore’s eyes lit up in shock and fear, but Gaster remained calm, only raising a brow. Gaster’s eyes narrowed, “A… weed told you this?” Sans chuckled, concentrating on wiping the last specks of dust off his hand, “Yeah. Some useless, soulless husk. Barely tasted like anything.” Sans turned his focus back to Gaster, “So, where is the camera system set up? Walk me to it. I want to know exactly where it is.” Gaster began to walk towards the main elevator, “This way, my king.”

Sans silently followed behind. Asgore shook slightly and stood still. Sans noticed this and quickly turned his skull back towards the meek assistant, “You coming?” Asgore nearly jumped, his fur stood on end, and he could not help but stutter all the while, “Y-yes, sir! Sorry, sir!” Asgore scurried up behind Sans and Gaster, and all three made their way through the lower confines of the lab. Sans was quick to loudly smell the hanging stench of Chara’s blood. Sans chuckled lightly to himself, “The substitute ain’t bad, but I’ll have the real thing soon enough.” Gaster spoke calmly, “You said this… weed… told you there were two humans?” Sans replied simply, but his eyes locked onto the Royal Scientist, “Yeah.” Gaster felt a chill up his spine, he could not help but hesitate in his words, “I-if this weed’s claim… were true-“ “It is. You’d be surprised how many will naturally spill their guts right before they die.” “Then… would you consider… giving one of them… to us?”

Sans stopped dead in his tracks, causing Asgore to dance around him quickly. Sans’s eyes became a dark abyss. His teeth clenched for a moment before he responded darkly, “What?” Gaster quickly turned around at the sound of the king’s tone. He recognized this expression. He knew this all too well. He instinctually stepped back a few paces before he responded, pleads bled into his tone, “It could be useful in accelerating the substitute’s production. A-and the chance to research a soul could lead to the breakthrough we need to shatter the barrier!” Asgore gave an angered look to Gaster, and was about to protest, but he stopped himself. He knew the king couldn’t know.

Sans was quiet for a few short moments, his head lowered slightly. The gears turned in his skull. Gaster and Asgore kept their distance from the king, careful not to set him off. Sans raised his head after a while, and his eyes returned to his thick white dots. He smirked, “How noble of you…” Gaster lowered his stance, ready for an inevitable attack. He heard something he did not expect. Words from his king, “Alright. If you can manage to pry one out of my mouth… I might be willing to give one to you.” The king flashed his blue eye, “But I get to pick first. Touch that human, and I’ll save room for you as dessert.” Asgore attempted to nervously speak to Gaster, “S-sir-“ Gaster simply put up a hand to Asgore’s face while he kept his eye on Sans. Gaster then quickly lowered his hand and spoke, “Agreed. One human for you, and one other for my research.” Sans’s eyes returned to normal once more, his posture seemed relaxed, “Good. Now, that camera system…” Asgore perked up, “Sir… I feel you should know… the recording capabilities have been offline for some time… d-due to… damage…” Sans frowned, “I don’t need to know where the two humans were. I want to know where they are.” Asgore shrunk back slightly, submissively, “I just… thought you should know.” Sans rolled his eye sockets dismissively, “Fine. Just take me to it.” Asgore gulped and motioned to the halls ahead, “Right away… sir.”

#predatortale #predatorshift #storyshift #undertale au #fanfiction #fanfic #chapter 12 #chara #asgore dreemur #w.d. gaster #gaster #sans

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gjorsum-freyjasdatter · 4 years

Text

Good evening to my lovely followers, and those perhaps who have stumbled upon my Tumblr for the first time; hi, hello!

Today has been a tumult of emotion and I need to get it out of my head so I feel less crazy. My fiance is upstairs in the bath and I’m downstairs with one of my cats, a glass of milk and my marimos for company.

So, to start my day I woke up and thought “I’m going to get my septum pierced today.” And then, as I was driving to my parents to spend the day with them, I had a change of heart. Then I was out with them (with my worm on a string in hand because I thought I was going to have a panic attack with the crowds of people), eating what could only be described as the worst excuse for a katsu curry I’ve ever experienced, and I said to my dad “I want to get my nose pierced.” He laughed and said he’d pay for it if I cried (we have a great relationship, really. He’s a great dad and he was only joking, so don’t worry!)

Anyway, I decided against it again, but then my Mam went to buy herself a new phone. I said to myself “screw it! I’m doing it!” So I walked to the piercing shop - a guy I’ve been to before. It’s normally quiet on a Sunday so I thought it would be a quick bish-bash-bosh “here’s that hole you wanted” kind of scenario.

Oh no. No.

There was a queue! A queue of about six people! So I walk into the studio.

Me: Oh hi. I’m wanting to get my right nostril re-pierced but would it be possible for Steve (the piercer) to look at my septum because I really fancy one of those?

Receptionist: Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. I’ll put you down for the nostril and if you’re in there and he can do your septum I’ll just change your form.

Me: Oh, okay. Great. How long will I have to wait?

Receptionist: Five minutes, tops.

So I nod my head and wander off to look at the jewellery, and the obnoxious Headcandy album is blaring in my ears and the neon lights are making me feel really kind of dissociated. I started playing with my phone (because that’s the social norm when you don’t want to talk to people!) and I realise that more than five minutes have passed and this queue hasn’t moved. I’m already starting to have second thoughts about this anyway at this point - I’m not sure whether it’s something I want or something my BPD makes me want to think that I want. When that thought comes in my head, nine times out of ten I back out of what I’m doing.

I see the receptionist and he says “Give him five more minutes. He’s got a jewellery change and then you’re next.” Bearing in mind, this line of five or six people still hadn’t budged and apparently, I was next after a jewellery change. Hmmm... yEaH oKay!

Me to me: Okay, so if Mam and Dad come around that corner and you’re still stood here then that’s your cue to leave. That’s fate saying today is not the day you get a septum piercing or your nose re-pierced.

Another five minutes pass. I’ve scrolled through Instagram about forty times at this point and I see a familiar shape in the corner of my eye; like Santa Claus but more geordie. My Dad tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I’d been stabbed yet and did I cry. I shook my head and waved to the receptionist and left.

And I didn’t get my nose pierced. I didn’t get my septum pierced. My little inner goblin is a bit disappointed but I’m glad I left when I did. I didn’t get a good vibe from there today and there was a reason the voice in the back of my head told me to leave when I saw my Mam and Dad.

The nose piercing will be for another day. Today there was rain, I saw no snails but I did get to walk through a few puddles.

Also, as a side note; as I listened to my inner voice and didn’t get my face stabbed with a needle today, I decided instead to spend that money on something I’ve been wanting for a few months which is a jumper from Killstar. I will model it when it arrives but suffice it say that it makes me very happy. Far happier, perhaps, than any nose ring ever could!

#blog post #rant #rant post #piercing update

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toosicktoocare · 7 years

Text

My first stab at appendicitis (wow, I didn’t intend for that to be a shitty pun), so hang with me! (I may have gotten really excited when writing this.)

When Keith woke to a dull throb in the middle of his abdomen a few days earlier, he pegged it on lack of sleep mixed with poor appetite and went to class.

However, three days later, and instead of getting better like he had hoped, he was getting worse. The dull throb had spread from the middle of his stomach to the lower-right side, and it didn’t take a genius to know that that was where the appendix was located.

But, appendicitis was rare. At least, that’s what Keith told himself when he struggled out of bed to get ready for class. He was most likely dealing with some shit strain of the flu, but he couldn’t miss class, not with midterms approaching.

He tossed a hoodie and a pair of sweats on and crammed his feet into the closest pair of boots before shouldering his backpack.

“No breakfast?” Lance questioned with a frown as Keith moved toward the door.

“Not hungry,” Keith called over his shoulder as he turned the doorknob.

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen you eat in like three days,” Lance pressed, abandoning his bowl of cereal in favor of catching his boyfriend before he could bolt out the door.

He hooked a finger around Keith’s backpack strap and tugged hard until the latter was stumbling around to face him.

Lance moved his eyes slowly across Keith’s face. The latter was paler than usual and slightly flushed, but before he could press further with questions, Keith stepped forward and planted a firm kiss to his lips.

“I’m fine,” Keith mumbled when he pulled away, but Lance’s frown only deepened.

“You’re warm,” he muttered. With Keith’s face so close to his, he could feel the heat rolling off his boyfriend, and it was doing nothing but heightening his worry.

Keith’s lips curled up into a half-smile. “Because I just woke up,” he lied easily. “Now are you going to let me go to class?”

Lance nodded, but his face remained pinched in concern. “Call me if you need me. I don’t have class today, so I’ll be here.”

Keith offered a nod before spinning on his heel and exiting the apartment.

*****

By Keith’s third class, he was panicking. The pain in his right side was searing yet he was shivering as if every other part of his body was covered in slick ice.

Twice he considered calling Lance, but he only had one more class to get through til he could get home and sleep off whatever the hell this was.

He barely made it through his final class. He spent the entire time hunched over with one arm pressed tightly across his lower stomach while strong shivers coursed through his body. His classmates shot him worried glances, and he was forced to step in to say he’d be fine when he overheard one mentioning calling Lance.

When class finally dismissed, he grabbed his backpack and bolted out of his seat. The walk to his and Lance’s apartment was only a five minute walk from the building he was in, but he was determined to make it in two minutes.

*****

When Keith burst through the apartment door, he dropped his bag to the floor and all but ran into the bathroom. He heard Lance following while calling out concerned questions, but all he could focus on was making it in time.

He padded quickly across the tiled floor until he collapsed to his hands and knees in front of the toilet and heaved.

Lance was at his side seconds later, murmuring soothing words while rubbing a hand up and down Keith’s back.

“You are going to be just fine, love. Just get it out, and you’ll feel better.”

Keith found that he wasn’t so sure about that, but he clung to the words all the same as wave after wave of nausea coursed through him.

Because of his lack of appetite over the last few days, all that was coming up was hot bile that burned his throat, and he winced with each wave.

This went on for ten minutes, and as each minute passed, Lance was growing more and more anxious. He continued smoothing his hand up and down Keith’s back with the hopes of easing the latter’s tense, convulsing muscles.

During a few second break that had Keith panting tiredly over the toilet bowl, Lance fired out questions.

“Is it just your stomach that hurts?”

Keith shook his head. “Everything hurts.”

Lance took a second to slide a palm to Keith’s forehead, and while he wasn’t surprised to find a fever, he was surprised at how bad the fever was. Keith was practically boiling, and he pulled his hand away with a sharp hiss.

“Do you think it’s just a bad virus?”

Keith tensed up as his stomach lurched, and he pressed up on his knees once more. “I don’t know,” he managed out. “My side hurts really bad.”

Lance dropped his gaze to see Keith pressing one hand hard against the right side of his stomach, and he got to his feet while his mind ran a mile a minute.

“I’ll be right back, love,” he called out softly before turning sharply on his heel and bolting out the door.

He moved to the kitchen and fished his phone out of his pocket just as another, loud retching sound echoed from the bathroom.

He punched Shiro’s speed dial, and despite being in class, the older boy picked up on the third ring.

“Lance? What’s up?”

“Shit, Shiro,” Lance started, voice shaking. “It’s Keith, he’s really sick.” He gripped the edge of a counter with a trembling hand as another loud gag sounded from the bathroom.

“What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“He’s been throwing up for a long time,” Lance said, words tumbling off his tongue. “He said his side hurts really bad. I think I need to take him to the hospital.”

“Okay. Okay, Lance? I need you not to panic, okay?”

Lance breathed out a harsh laugh. “A little late for that. Can you meet us at the hospital?”

“Of course.”

Lance muttered a quick thank you before hanging up the phone and running back to the bathroom to get Keith.

*****

Lance stared blankly at a wall in the hospital waiting room. As soon as he brought Keith in, a nurse took one look at him then paged for a doctor to prep a surgery room, and seconds later, Keith was being wheeled away on a gurney while a receptionist led Lance to the waiting room with a promise that his partner would be just fine.

That had been fifteen minutes ago, and Lance had stopped crying ten minutes ago. He sat with his knees drawn to his chest and his chin resting atop one knee while he absently stared at the wall.

“Lance!”

Shiro’s voice pierced through the haze clouding Lance’s mind, and seconds later, he was being pulled out of the chair and into Shiro’s strong arms.

He didn’t think he had any more tears in him, and yet, he found himself sobbing into Shiro’s chest while the latter held him tightly.

“It’s going to be fine,” Shiro muttered into Lance’s hair. “You did well, and Keith is going to be just fine.”

Lance only nodded, words lost against the harsh sobs slipping past his lips.

The two stood in the middle of the waiting room like this until Lance finally settled down enough to be led back to his chair.

“Has anyone come to talk to you?” Shiro asked gently, and when Lance shook his head, Shiro left to find some answers.

He returned minutes later and reclaimed his spot in the chair beside Lance. “All the nurse could tell me was that he was being brought into surgery for appendicitis.”

Lance dropped his face into his hands, and Shiro responded with a steady hand to his back.

“I should have known this,” Lance started, voice muffled against his palms. “He hasn’t eaten in days, and he had a fever when he left for class this morning.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Shiro said firmly. He moved until he was crouched in front of Lance and gently pulled the brunet’s hands from his face.

“Listen to me, Lance. This is not your fault at all, okay? I don’t want you blaming yourself.”

Lance blinked away a few stray tears but nodded and allowed Shiro to pull him into another hug, but the two pulled away when a doctor walked in and called for family of Keith Kogane.

“Here!” Lance stumbled toward the doctor with Shiro hot on his heels. “He’s my boyfriend. Is he okay?”

“He was about ten minutes away from a ruptured appendix, so you brought him in just in time. The surgery was successful, and you can see him now if you’d like.”

Lance rapidly nodded, and when he looked back to Shiro, the older boy motioned for him to go.

“Go on. I’m going to call Pidge and Hunk.”

Nodding once more, Lance turned back to the doctor and followed him to Keith’s room.

*****

When Lance got into the room, Keith was still asleep, so he pulled up a chair as close to the bed as possible and waited. After thirty minutes, Keith began to stir.

“Keith? Can you hear me?” Lance asked quietly. He cupped a hand over Keith’s and leaned forward.

Groaning, Keith blinked against the blinding light until Lance’s worried face came into focus. “Hi,” he rasped out weakly. His throat felt raw and dry, but he was happy to find that the pain in his side had been reduced to a dull ache.

“Hi,” Lance whispered back, voice cracking as his eyes brimmed with tears.

“What happened?” Keith questioned slowly as he frowned at the tears sliding down Lance’s cheeks.

“Appendicitis,” Lance answered, voice low. “I brought you in only minutes before your appendix would have ruptured.”

Keith nodded. Apparently appendicitis wasn’t at rare as he wanted to hope it would be. “I’m okay now,” he said softly. “You don’t have to cry.”

“You could have died,” Lance spit back as he swiped his arm against his eyes.

“But I didn’t.”

“But you could of!”

“But. I. Didn’t.”

Lance fell back against his chair with a loud sigh. “Do you get pleasure out of giving me a heart attack?”

Keith’s brows furrowed. “What? Lance, no-”

“Then why do you always do this? First it was the twisted ankle, then it was pneumonia, and now this! We’ve been to the hospital so many times over the last few months because you can’t just tell me when you are sick or hurt!”

“I don’t want you to worry.”

“Well, look how that’s working out!” Lance snapped back. He tilted his head back against the chair and stared at the ceiling until Keith cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.” Keith knew those were not the words Lance wanted to hear, but he was at a loss at what else to say. He hadn’t realized just how much pain he was bringing to his boyfriend while trying to help him.

Lance hunched over and pressed his forehead against Keith’s hand. “Can you please just start telling me when you are feeling sick or are hurt?” He lifted his head. “I don’t know how much more I can take of this,” he added quietly while weakly gesturing toward the hospital room.

Keith nodded, and Lance replied with a gentle kiss to his hand.

“Get some more rest because Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro will be coming in soon.”

“Are you still mad at me?” Keith questioned softly, and Lance replied with a light huff.

“Yes, but I won’t be by the time you wake up again.”

It wasn’t the answer Keith wanted to hear, but it would have to do for now. He knew he would have some serious damage control to do when he was well enough, but for right now, obeying Lance seemed like the best option. He closed his eyes, and drifted back to sleep almost instantly.

#voltron #vld #sickfic #prompt #klance #langst #klangst #lance mcclain #keith kogane #my writing #my voltron writing

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jarpadandjensenaremyheroes · 7 years

Text

The Little Princess: Chapter 9

A/n- I’ve tried to keep this as canon as possible, but it’s turned into a slight AU where Ellen, Jo, Ash, and Bobby are still alive and kicking. And one where Cas never lost his wings. Also, I’m so sorry for this chapter. I’m not really sure what happened… The Character of Tori Newman is based off my best friend IRL and I cried while writing this. A lot. Please don’t hate me.

Word count: 2,214

Warnings: Character deaths, baby in danger (baby is fine, I could never do that), ANGST, this is not a fluffy chapter…

Chapter summary: Show down with the demons

Characters: OFC Tori Newman, OMC James Newman, Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, OFC Mary Winchester

Need to catch up? HERE is the masterlist!

Chapter 9

The five of you made it to the warehouse in record time. You were glad Dean was driving a vehicle that sat so low to the ground; if it had been an SUV he would have rolled it at the speeds he was going. You had almost worried a hole through your jeans, rubbing your hand up and down the material the whole drive there. And now that you were in front of the building, you were frozen with fear. You couldn’t handle the scene that might be inside. Every single ‘what if’ question was going through your mind all at once, and it was overwhelming. You could feel that panic attack coming. You vaguely heard Cas warn Dean of your current emotional state, to which he responded with “I see it Cas.” He grabbed your hand and started talking to you, but you couldn’t hear him. As soon as he realized that, he pulled you into his lap so you were awkwardly straddling him in the front seat of Baby. He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart so you could feel the rhythmic beating, and placed his other hand on the side of your face, holding your eyes to his piercing green ones. The very same ones you saw in your daughter every day.

“Y/N, baby, I need you to listen to me. Just listen to my voice and feel my heart. Feel my chest rise and fall with breath and try to copy the pattern. Look at my eyes and know that I am telling you the truth. We will get our daughter back, and she will be just fine. We will take her home, where both her parents and her uncles will raise her to be the most beautiful, amazing woman, just like her mother. She will have a great life, surrounded by friends and family, but she’ll never have a boyfriend. At least not ‘til she’s 30. She will be the happiest child anyone has ever seen, ‘cause she’ll have two parents who love her more than should be humanly possible. She’ll be more than just fine. She’ll be great.”

He peppered your face with chaste little kisses as your breathing and heart rate returned to normal. You finally began to register the looks of concern on everyone’s faces. You managed a weak smile of reassurance before you leaned in to Dean’s chest, your hand still over his heart. He held you tightly for a moment before you reached up to peck his lips.

“You are my rock, Dean. The hope of having this with you one day has been what’s kept me going for Mary. I love you. Thank you for being here for me.”

He gave you a loving smile before kissing your lips once more, as softly as possible. “I love you too princess,” he whispered against your lips.

Sam cleared his throat as Cas spoke up once again. “You both have a habit of self-sacrificing, so before we go in there I want to make one thing clear. If you so much as even a single solitary thought of doing something inconceivably idiotic, such as sacrificing yourselves for Mary or anyone else, I will take you out of the fight. I will put you to sleep and transport you back here. That stands true for you too, Sam and Tori. I will pile every single one of you in this damn car and fight them on my own if I have to. We are all leaving here in one piece, with Mary in your arms Y/N. Do you all understand?”

Sam and Tori simply nodded, but You and Dean shared a momentary glance with each other before Cas let out a growl. “God dammit you ass-butts, I mean it. I will leave you both here now if I think you are going to do anything!”

Dean nodded his head once as you let out an exasperated sigh, “fine, Cas. We won’t do anything stupid.” You lowered your voice an octave as to make it more threatening, “but if you take one or both of us out for trying to save our daughter, and she dies or is hurt anyways, I will never forgive you. I may just end you myself if she dies. Do you understand?” You parroted his own words back at him.

Cas swallowed and narrowed his eyes at you, “fine. But the child will not die unless I am killed first, so that honor would be taken away from you.”

Dean smirked at Cas’ retort and you lightly smacked his chest. Sam was looking everywhere except at you, and Tori was staring at the corner of the floorboards away from everyone else. Silently, you all got out of the car and gathered weapons to go inside. Cas had his angel blade and had given a second one to Tori, Sam had Ruby’s blade and his pistol, Dean had the colt along with his pistol loaded with demon trap bullets, and you had the angel blade Cas had given you long ago along with one of your tiny revolvers. Once you were all armed, you split into two groups; you and Dean went in one door while Sam, Tori, and Cas went in another. Luckily, there was only one big room in this building, so you were never truly separated.

You spotted your daughter immediately, in the center of the room being held by a black-eyed James. She was cooing and giggling as the demon wearing James looked at her with disgust.

“Never did like children!” he called. He knew you had all entered. “Honestly Tori, didn’t you get enough of me at home? I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come here. But I’m glad you did. Because now you get to watch as I kill James right in front of you.” He had a wicked grin on his face as ten other demons came out from the shadows of the warehouse. He gingerly sat Mary down in a makeshift crib in one of the nearby corners and two more demons moved on either side of it, effectively stopping any one of you from running to her. James turned back around, but this time with a blade in his hand. You shrieked as Dean began yelling, the both of you thinking he was going to harm Mary. He threw out a hand before the two of you could move an inch.

“Relax, mom and dad. I may not like the little brat, but I’m not cruel enough to harm her. She’s too young to understand. She can still be raised right! The knife isn’t meant for her. It’s meant for Tori. In a way…” he trailed off as another malicious grin crossed his face.

“Then just take me and let them go! If it’s me you want, then leave the rest of them out of this; especially Mary! Give her back to her parents and let them and Sam go…please…” Cas was glaring daggers at Tori, clearly trying to decide if he should make good on his threat or not.

The demon laughed, “oh no my dear. The knife isn’t going into you. But it is meant for your heart.” He sneered as he raised the blade and you all suddenly understood, but you were too late. He plunged the knife into James’ chest, directly into his heart. James would be dead the moment the demon smoked out…

Tori screamed as Sam held her back from rushing at the demon and getting herself killed as well. She dropped to her knees in the dirt and grime on the warehouse floor, and Dean held you as a look of horror crossed your face. You had just watched one of your best friends die. It took everything you had not to run to Tori.

The demon laughed again when he looked at you. “Oh my! Two for the price of ONE! I forgot you and James were such great friends, great friends, Y/N. It’s too bad Deano there has one of those fancy tattoos, otherwise I could make you feel the same pain your best friend feels right now. Instead, I’m going to hurt you and Dean in an even worse way. I’m going to take Mary, and walk out that door, and raise her as my own. She will never know either of you, and you will never see her again. How’s that for pain?”

None of you had noticed, but one of the demons had started sneaking up behind Cas. He turned around as he put a hand on the woman’s forehead and smote the demon where it stood. And then the fight began.

The demon released his hold over you and Dean when Cas charged him. You both whipped around and began fighting the two demons behind you. Dean was throwing punches as you tried to stab the one you were fighting. Getting impatient and tired of fighting this one, you whipped out your gun and shot him in the shoulder. He froze, confused. “Demon trap carved into the tip,” you winked at him as you slammed the blade into his chest, watching for just a second as he flashed orange. Then you spun and stabbed the man who had Dean pinned on the floor. Dean shoved him off as you took off running to help Tori, Sam, and Cas.

Sam had pushed a knife through the throat of one woman, and quickly turned to fight another. You heard a shot ring out from behind you and turned to look. Dean had put a bullet in the thigh of James, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

Cas smote another demon as Sam and Tori Took out one more. The two guarding Mary moved to come fight as well when James boomed, “don’t you fuckers move. You stay with my child!”

Mary was screaming by now, and you started running towards her. The demon’s words had set Dean off, and he stormed off towards him.

You got 10 feet from Mary when one of the demons came at you. You were seeing red, and ducked as he lunged at you. At the same time you ducked, you spun around and stabbed between his shoulder blades. He dropped to the ground as you looked up at the other man standing between you and your daughter. You snarled at him, as his eyes widened in fear. Before he could even blink, you were slipping your blade between his ribs.

Dean was fighting another demon as James was trying to push the bullet out of his leg. Tori was pinned down by the one fighting her, and Cas was trying to fight off two others. They had both lost their blades, and one had fallen into the hands of one of the demons fighting Cas. Sam had another one coming at him as well. Torn between staying with your daughter and helping your family, you made a snap decision when Dean killed the man he was fighting.

“DEAN!”

His head snapped around to you as you started running. He understood and quickly went to your daughter, keeping her safe and guarded. Sam killed one more, turning to help Cas. They quickly finished off the two demons as you got to their little cluster, and all three of you tried to help Tori, but you were too late. The demon fighting her had picked her up by the throat and was holding her in a hostage position with a knife to her throat.

“Drop your weapons. All of them,” he growled. You heard James chuckle as he began slow clapping in the background. The demon began moving towards James, still holding a scared Tori in his grip.

James grabbed her roughly by the hair when she was within reach. “Give your old man a kiss, sweetheart!” He pulled her face to his and smashed their lips together. Tori seemed to be going with it until James pulled away howling.

“You BITCH! Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to bite people?” He threw her down on the floor in front of her and gave her a swift kick to the ribs. You moved to try to help her, but he roared at you, “you move one more muscle and I’ll snap her pretty little neck!”

You watched on in horror as he continued beating your best friend. You were so distraught you almost didn’t notice Dean pull out the Colt. He used one hand to press Mary’s head to his chest, covering both her ears, and took his aim. The shot echoed throughout the warehouse and James dropped dead. The other demon looked around in shock, but quickly recovered. He fell to his knees and quickly drew back his knife and sank it into Tori’s chest before smoking out of the man he had been inhabiting.

You let out a blood curdling scream as you dashed forward with Cas right on your heels. You both reached her in record time.

“Cas do something! Please!” you screamed as you held her already limp body.

Cas placed his hands on her most severe wounds and you watched with teary eyes as the light radiated from his palms. “I…it’s not working…Y/N…I’m so sorry. She’s already gone…”

@petrovadixon

@quackerstheduck663057

#spn fandom #spn fanfic #Dean Winchester x reader #daddy!dean #uncle!sammy #The Little Princess

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sincerelybluevase · 7 years

Text

Lips touch, part one

Because I have no self control, I’ve written another Turnadette fanfic. I’m planning on doing a series of how their first kiss could have gone, based on the amazing ficlets by @kienova66

If you guys could send me prompts that would be nice

TW for assault.

Sister Bernadette almost walks past the dark alley. She’s tired, having been up since before dawn, tending to patients during the day and delivering a set of twins till well into the night. If she’s honest, she just wants to get back to Nonnatus, sterilize her equipment, and sleep a bit before Lauds. She should have been back by now, and would have been, if her bike hadn’t suffered a puncture. As it is, she is forced to walk a good five miles back, hauling the heavy bike and her bag over the uneven cobbles of the streets of Poplar.

She’s lost in her own thoughts as she passes the alley. It is darker than the ones surrounding it, owing to a broken lantern. The darkness inside seems almost impenetrable.

A great place for a crime, she muses, halting to push her glasses back up her nose. It is then that she hears a grunt and muffled shouting. The hairs on the back of her neck rise.

“Give it ter us, ye tosser!” a harsh voice. She is rooted to the spot, almost unable to breathe.

“I don’t have any money!” A block of ice lands in her stomach. The words are spoken by a voice she knows, a voice she has dreamed about more and more the last few months: Doctor Turner.

“You rich cocks are all the same,” a second voice, a lot more nasal than the first, claims.

“Now, hand over yer wallet and that nice watch,” a third person commands. Another grunt.

Sister Bernadette knows she has to back away, needs to find a constable, but she can’t leave Doctor Turner. There are three men there, mugging him. Before she can question her decision she puts her bike against the wall and strides into the alley. Her hands are shaking, but with fear or anger she doesn’t know. She does know that East-Enders respect the nuns and midwives enough to leave them alone. This allows them to traverse the most unsavoury parts of Poplar without the fear of being assaulted. Still, being assaulted whilst on your way to deliver a baby or actually interfering in an on-going attempt to rob a man are two very different things.

My habit will protect me, she chants, repeating the words like a prayer. Her blood thunders in her ears, caused by the galloping of her blood through her veins.

Her initial plan is to command the men to let Doctor Turner go. She has to discard it as soon as her eyes discern that one of the three assailants has a stick as thick as a fist in his hand, and raises it to club the doctor. There’s no time.

“Leave him alone!” she screams, and without a second thought she jumps on the man’s back. He grunts in surprise. He’s wearing a leather jacket. The material is slippery; she has to do her utmost best to not slide off. Sister Bernadette rakes his face with her nails. The man yelps, tries to shake her off. She clings to him as if he’s a bucking horse, digging her nails deeper in the flabby flesh of his cheeks. The man drops his stick and uses both hands to try and get her off. One of his hands finds her wimple. His fingers close around the fabric and the underlying hair and yank. Sister Bernadette screams as she is dragged off his back by her hair. Hot pain shoots through her scalp. The strap of her wimple snaps. The man stumbles back, holding only the remains of her wimple and cap in his hand. Sister Bernadette lands on her knees, bruising them on the cobbles. Her glasses are no longer on her nose. Frantically she tries to find them, sweeping her hands over the ground, trying not to think about the slippery wetness her fingertips encounter. Her French twist has completely come undone; her hair spills over her shoulders, into her eyes.

“Yer little bitch,” her attacker hisses in her ear. His breath smells sour.

He must have seen that was a wimple, he must have… she thinks, clinging to the thought that East-Enders don’t harm nuns as the man kicks her in the ribs. All breath leaves her body as pain explodes under her ribs. Sister Bernadette opens her mouth to scream, but she can’t even breathe. She falls on her side, curling up, making herself as small as possible. Her side is a throbbing mass of pain, a small star collapsing on itself, consuming everything around it.

Her assailant pushes her on her back. He’s no longer alone; one of the other two men has joined him. In the dark and without her glasses she can’t make out their features.

Where’s Doctor Turner? she thinks.

Have they knocked him unconscious?

“Hold her arms,” her first attacker says. The second man moves, gripping her wrists and pressing them down. He smells of alcohol. His hands are calloused and slightly sweaty. Sister Bernadette understands what they are about to do in that moment. Panic and fear grip her. She kicks and flails, ignoring the stabbing pain in her side, but the men are out of her reach.

“I like it when they put up a fight,” the first man says. He tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The gesture is almost tender. Sister Bernadette whimpers in fear. The man puts his knee between her legs, forcing them apart.

He can’t, I’m a nun! As the first man struggles to undo his belt the second man shifts, putting his knees on top her arms so he has his hands free. He starts pawing at her breasts, his movements rough and hurried. He doesn’t trouble with the buttons of her habit, but rips the fabric. Cool air kisses her damp skin.

His hands encounter the wooden cross Sister Bernadette always wears. He picks it up, ready to toss it aside. When he realises what it is, he freezes.

“Fuck,” he whispers. He lets Sister Bernadette go as if she’s burned him.

“She’s a nun!” A lot of things then happen at the same time. Several flashlights pierce the darkness as a group of policemen enter the alley. Sister Bernadette has to close her eyes against the sudden brightness.

“Police, halt!” Feet on the cobbles, moving away from her. Suddenly, the weight of her attacker on her disappears. Sister Bernadette clutches her habit against her chest, tries to keep it closed. She opens her eyes, squints, forces herself to see. Doctor Turner presses the man in the leather jacket against the wall with his arms against his throat. She has never seen him like this. His face is completely contorted into a mask of fury, his mouth stretched into a snarl that reveals his teeth. One of his eyes is already swollen shut and his collar is flecked with blood, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“You bastard,” he hisses. The eyes of the other man are wide with fear.

“Let him go, sir!” one of the policemen urges, trying to pull Doctor Turner’s arm away. The eyes of the man dressed in leather are starting to bulge and his face has taken on an impressive shade of purple. If Doctor Turner has heard the policeman, he gives no indication.

“If you’ve hurt her…” the doctor chokes on his own words.

“Sir, you are choking him!” The policeman is starting to sound frantic.

Sister Bernadette scrabbles up and places her hand on the doctor’s shoulder.

“Doctor Turner, please let go.” Her throat hurts. Her voice is hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but at the sound of her Doctor Turner seems to snap out of the trancelike state that gripped him. The muscles around his mouth relax and he loosens his grip. The policeman exhales in relief as the criminal chokes and splutters, definite signs that he will live to see another day.

“I didn’t know she was a nun,” he splutters, repeating that sentence over and over again as the officer arrests him.

Sister Bernadette doesn’t remember sitting down, but all of a sudden she is on her knees, the doctor squatting next to her. He takes off his coat and helps her put it on. His hands shake as he does the first few buttons up so as to save her modesty. The fabric of his coat is warm, something Sister Bernadette is grateful for; the effect of her adrenaline is wearing off, allowing the cold of the night to knit itself in her bones.

“Sister, are you hurt?” he asks her, rolling up the cuffs of his coat. She shakes her head, not trusting herself to speak.

“I’m sorry, I have nothing for you to cover your head with,” he says as he moves on to the other sleeve. Sister Bernadette touches her hair; she had already forgotten that it was on display.

“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbles.

“It does matter! What on earth made you do such a thing, you silly woman? What if one of them had a knife? What if they had…?” he says, his voice trembling.

“I heard your voice, and I couldn’t think,” she whispers, “I thought my habit would keep me safe.” Doctor Turner takes out his handkerchief and uses it to wipe away a drop of blood underneath her earlobe. The strap of her wimple must have nicked her skin there. Sister Bernadette winces; she not only feels the cold, but the pain underneath her ribs has returned with a vengeance, too. It must be one hell of a bruise.

“I would never have forgiven myself if they hurt you,” she says, tears blurring her foggy vision even more, “because I love you.” She starts to weep in earnest then. Great, heaving sobs rack her body. Her fear and anger and shame come pouring out of her eyes. Doctor Turner hugs her close to him. She slings one arm around his neck, tangles the other in the fabric of his jumper. Her face is placed over the cavity that holds his heart; its steady rhythm and the soothing noises the doctor makes in the back of his throat help her to calm down a little. He rocks her and holds her till her breathing has calmed down enough for her to speak. Her limbs feel extremely heavy and she has trouble keeping her eyes open. If she could, she would go to sleep right there and then, in the arms of the man she loves. She knows she shouldn’t, that she should get up and make a statement, help the policemen do their job, gather her soiled wimple and find her glasses, return to Nonnatus, but she has no desire to move. Besides, the policemen are still too busy getting the two men they caught to cooperate.

“You silly, silly woman,” Doctor Turner whispers, peppering her hair and forehead with kisses. Sister Bernadette loosens her grip on him and tilts her head so she can look into his face. He places his hand on her cheek, gently wiping one of her tears away with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.

“I’m sorry, too,” he confesses. She frowns.

“For what?”

“For what I’m about to do,” the doctor says, and presses his lips to hers. Sister Bernadette becomes completely still for just one second before melting into him. His lips are warm and dry and ever so soft. He is careful with her, the fingertips of the hand on her face hardly touching her scalp. Before the kiss can deepen Doctor Turner pulls away.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate,” he whispers, his voice husky.

Sister Bernadette can’t answer. Instead, she studies his face. Even in the dark and without the aid of her glasses she can see that his left eye is nearly swollen shut and has taken on different hues of purple and red. She lifts her hand and gently brushes over the bruise. The doctor hisses in surprise and pain.

“You’re going to look like quite the prize-fighter,” she notes. He smiles, then winces.

“I can live with that, if you are my prize,” he says. She can’t be sure, but thinks he winks at her.

“Only don’t assume I’m going to do this every day. My old heart won’t survive.” She laughs as he gathers her up in his arms once more.

“It’s a good thing that this alley is so dark,” she whispers in his ear.

“Why is that?” “Because nobody can see me kiss you.”

#call the midwife #turnadette #writing tag #sister bernadette #doctor turner

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