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scarletsaphire · 1 year

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The Chosen Knight (Dannymay Day 1: Fantasy AU)

Danny wanders into the Fae Realm on accident, and on a dare. He never intended to get lost, and he never intended to be chosen as the Realm’s physical representation.

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His first day in the Fae Realm, Danny survived on a combination of his parents teachings and dumb luck. It had simply been dumb, how he had ended up here. A dare from Sam and Tucker, to go take a picture of a faerie ring or anything else. It was teasing, joking, playing; none of them really believed in the fae, even if Danny’s parents were fanatic. But then Danny had walked into the forest, camera clutched in his hands, and the trees had grown around him and the forest started to whisper, and Danny hadn’t been able to find his way back.

It took him 13 hours before he couldn’t help but curl on the ground and try to sleep. His parents had told him that anyone who falls asleep in the fae realm will wake up as the roots of an ancient tree, and will find that hundreds of years had passed since they laid down to rest. But Danny could not keep walking, could not keep looking, so he laid in a patch of moonlight and moss, and tried to sleep. (It wasn’t until the branches moved and the stars shone brighter that he was able to fall into a restless, uneasy sleep.)

When Danny awoke, he was not one with the roots of an oak tree, nor had the surrounding area changed from what he remembered the night before. He took that as a good sign.

He stumbled across the lady a few hours after waking, still wandering lost and confused in the forest. “It’s time for lunch!” she called with a smile as soon as she saw him.

Her teeth were too sharp, and her eyes blinked sideways, and her fingers weren’t fingers at all, but different cooking and dining utensils. Danny wanted to run.

“You must not run,” a feminine voice whispered in his head. The words were clipped, and awkward, almost as if it was being spoken through clenched teeth. “But you must not eat. Accept her company, but not her food.”

The voice must be his mothers lessons. It was a better idea than sprinting into the dense trees and getting lost, so he sat on the blanket she had spread on the floor, and did just that. He politely declined the sandwiches, fruit, cookies, salad, soup, and cake that she offered, but listened as she talked.

She left without eating anything. The food left with her.

Danny ran out of water in his water bottle that day. It took him 4 hours before he found his head pounding and his mouth bone dry. But he couldn’t drink anything; his father had told him about how drinking anything from the fae realm replaces your blood with the drink, leaving you forever needing the liquid of the fae, or you’ll dry up into a shriveled, living corpse.

His foot led him without his mind guiding them, and he nearly fell face first into the stream. The water was cool and clear, and it made his throat ache even more. “You may drink, dearest knight. It will not tie you anymore than you already are.” It was the same voice as before. Definitely not just his mother’s echo in his mind. Even if it wasn’t too specific, neither of his parents would ever advise him to drink or eat in the Fae Realm. They had said many times that it was better to die than to end up stuck in the Fae Realm. But Danny didn’t want to die, so he bent at the stream and reached his hand into the stream, and brought the water to his lips. He wasn’t sure whether the water tasted better than water should, or if it was just his desperate thirst that made it so, but it was the most refreshing drink he ever had.

It was only a couple hours later that Danny succumbed to hunger. He wasn’t starving, not yet anyway, but he was hungry, and it was probably already too late for him. If he wasn’t already trapped here, he doubted that the berries he stumbled across would make a difference. Or, if they were poisonous and killed him, he would be listening to his parent’s advice after all. “They will not hurt you, dearest knight. I will keep you safe until you return the favor.”

Danny’s heart skipped a beat, his hand already holding a handful of berries, a deep purple color, not unlike blueberries but more vivid. “What…what do you mean?” His voice came out choked, both from emotion and from his only recently quenched dehydration.

“Eat, dearest knight. As I said before, it will not tie you anymore than you already are.” Danny swallowed once, trying to clear the lump in his throat. She was right though. He knew she was, whoever she may be and whatever she may want with him. Danny’s next swallow brought with it the berries he had held, their juices sweet and coating his tongue and throat.

He felt the voice purr contentedly in the back of his mind. He felt something else, something new, something that was him, purr back in response.

—- Danny wandered through the Fae Realm for…he didn’t know how long. He simply wandered, his feet bringing him in any and every direction. When he was hungry, they would bring him to berries or nuts. When he was thirsty he would find streams. When he was tired, the trees would part and let him see the stars and moon through their canopy, and for all of it She was with him.

She was the Fae realm itself, its spirit, its heart. She was what kept the world together, what kept the magic alive, what provided the forest and the earth and the sky. She was everything. And She needed Danny.

“Dearest knight,” She had explained early on in Danny’s wandering. Human language did not fit right in her mouth. It was beneath her. “Your world, the world of mortals and men, is pulling away from magic. You use technology that I do not understand, and if it continues without us, we may both end up in ruin. You are perfect. You will be my body, my hands, my eyes and ears. You are so very special.”

Danny had freaked out a significant amount at that announcement, but She had calmed him, letting the whole of the Fae Realm drape over his shoulders like a weighted blanket. It was as much of a comfort as it was a demonstration. This weight was Hers to carry alone; now, it was also his. He calmed, and he accepted his new place. It wasn’t like he had a choice.

During his wanderings, he met with some of the residents of this world. A hunter with a body of metal and stone, fascinated by his humanity. He had offered a spot in his house, a permanent place to stay. Notably, he never said anything about his stay having him live. A woman with fire for hair and a voice that warmed and enchanted. A creature that more resembled a pile of crates stacked on top of each other than a man, though he spoke like one. His interactions with all of them were guided, at first, by Her, but as the days started to blend together, and he began to meet the same faces (or the same people with new faces) he found himself learning how to handle them, and for some, to befriend them.

It was after that, when he had started to think of some of the denizens not as a nuisance or a roadblock but as companions, that She led him to his house.

He opened the door before Danny could knock. He wore a purple cloak with pieces that spun and clicked against each other, holding each piece together in an impossible mechanical contraption. “Hello, Daniel. You may call me Clockwork.”

Clockwork was the Timekeeper for the Fae Realm, though he did it more as a hobby than as a job. He did not control time itself; rather, he collected it, keeping stolen seconds in buckets and treasured moments in jars. She had tasked Clockwork with helping Danny learn about the Realm, and caring for him in ways She could not. She was not leaving, of course. They could not be a part, not in any way that matters.

(Once, after he had been at Clockwork’s for a while, Clockwork showed him a jar of sand and stardust. It showed him entering the forest, however long ago that was. Danny had watched his friends stand there, staring into the forest, waiting for him to return. Danny knew that they would wait there forever, or until they left. He spent that night fighting down tears. Were his friends still alive? Did they remember him? A part of him desperately hoped they would remember him. He pushed that part far, far down.)

—

Danny was not a human anymore. He hadn’t thought of himself as one in years, even if at a glance he would pass as one. In fact, at a glance he would pass as the boy who had wandered into the forest so long ago, not having aged a day. But the more you’d look, the more you’d notice how his knees and elbows bent at weird places on the limbs, so that when he ran four legs would be just as natural as two. You’d notice how his teeth were too sharp and too crowded and too many. You’d notice how his eyes were too big, his pupils too black, and the flecks of white just a tad too orderly. (If you liked the stars, you would recognize the patterns.) It wouldn’t take near as much studying to notice how his hair was pitch black during the day, seeming to suck all the light in, and yet at night would practically shine white, releasing the light it had absorbed.

Danny was not a human, and so when She told him that he was to return to the human world, his heart did not skip a beat. His hopes, long since dashed to bits, did not begin to piece themselves together. His mind did not flash to people whose faces he could just barely recall. He was not a human. (Besides, he doubted he would know anyone, anymore. He hoped no one would know him.)

He did not expect to emerge to the forest to see two faces, once so familiar, waiting anxiously at the edge of the forest. He did not expect them to give him relieved smiles, and rush forward to throw their arms around him.

“You were gone for like three hours man! We were super worried out here, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Tucker said, grabbing at his chest dramatically.

Something long repressed and deeply human began to wake inside of Danny.

#danny phantom #dannymay2023 #dannymay day 1 #fae au #fantasy au #danny phantom fanfiction

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deathlordcorpseking · 2 years

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Yeehawgust 4: Strange Hoofbeats

Is it obvious that Cass is my favorite fallout companion yet? Anyway, fair warning that this is 671 words and has some canon typical cursing and drinking alcohol. (Here’s hoping I’ve structured this right):

The red-haired woman let out a loud groan of, "Aw, hell."

Apparently, some time during her drunken stupor the night before, Cass had drank so much that she'd passed out at the bar. In fact, her drunken self didn't even if the courtesy to at least move to one of the beds in the nearby barracks. Hungover-Cass was unfortunately the one that had to deal with the ache in her back now, all in addition to the pounding of her head.

There was almost a crack as she stood to stretch, wincing at the soreness of her spine. She yawned loudly, reaching her arms up just a bit obnoxiously until she fell back onto her stool. An NCR soldier on the other side of the bar gave her an odd look, and she rolled her eyes, giving a less-than-kind gesture his way. He stomped away at the sight, leaving some of his buddies behind, and Cass spared herself a little chuckle, reaching for a bottle she may not have finished- though the effort was in vain.

"Sorry," Lacey said sympathetically. "You finished all from last night, and I figured it'd be better to clean up while you were out."

Cass stared up at her, scratching at her hair. "Mm."

“Something I can get you, maybe?"

"The Brahmin that stomped on my head last night, thanks." She winced again, pulling her hat down to cover her eyes. "Or the big man upstairs to turn the damn sun down for a while."

Lacey let out a little laugh. "If I had any connection with the man himself, I wouldn't be here every day."

“You and me both." With one hand, she rubbed at her head vaguely, the sound of both troopers talking and the radio meshing together in an altogether unwelcome tune. "Worst fucking place to be hungover."

“Sorry," she repeated, lowering the radio, though it didn't do much to actually help with Cass' predicament. "Listen, not like those roads'll be closed forever."

“Doesn't matter none. They're closed for me, and when I actually need them open, too. Got news of my caravan being burnt to ash, and I can't even go pay my respects. Fucking bullshit," she grumbled out lowly. "Well, the early morning good mood's down the drain now. If it was ever there to begin with."

“It'll all be over with soon," Lacey reassured again. Cass shook her head anyway. Frowning to herself, Lacey asked a gentle, "How about I get you some water or something? Think you're killing your liver with just alcohol all the time."

“Gotta be the first bartender in the whole wasteland to want a customer not to drink themselves to the grave.”

“Yeah, well with my number one customer in the grave, it's not like I'd get much more business. Water's on me." Cass shrugged. Lacey didn't wait for any verbal confirmation, anyway, pulling out a water bottle and setting it on the table softly.

Cass lifted her hat just a bit higher, staring at her oddly, but clicked her tongue. "Thanks."

"Uh-huh. Just try not to die from liver failure, alright?"

“Bartender and mother-hen. Color me impressed."

“If you're more interested in killing your liver than getting out of this hellhole one day, go ahead."

Cass snorted to herself. "Don't worry, Lace. Little bit of whiskey's not gonna kill me. I'll be damned if I die before I get back out there. Least I can do is pay my respects when I do. Something to live for, anyway.”

"Good. Then live. And stop falling asleep at the counter. You're killing your back."

True to her words, Cass' back still ached noticeably, as if she were carrying tons of gear on her back. Another thing to miss about being part of a caravan: not having to carrying the lot of her own heavy items. "I'll drink to that."

Lacey sighed. "Somehow I think my intervention's gone right over your head."

"'S why you never question a girl's choice of drink, Lace. Life lesson."

#Rose of Sharon Cassidy #strange hoofbeats #but if the hoofbeats were in her head… I guess

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messers-moony · 3 years

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One in the Same | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Wife!Reader

Summary: Reader notices Draco going through the same pain as her ex lover and desperately wants fix her faults.

“Mr.Malfoy, can you stay after class, please?”

“‘Course, Professor Black.”

An average day in second year. Professor Black - Y/n - taught History of Magic after Professor Binns decided his time was up. Too long of teaching sleeping students who could care less about his lessons. However, once Y/n took over the position, kid's grades improved and people were no longer sleeping. She made things fun and inventive.

After class time was up, everyone filed out of the classroom aside from the blond Slytherin boy. Draco has always been on the good side of Professor Black. She was always extremely kind to him despite his rather sour attitude at times. But Draco was always hesitant to initiate a conversation to really speak his feelings to her. But this was the first time she had him stay after class.

Y/n pulled out the chair in front of her desk as he sat down. His white-blond hair and gleaming blue eyes. His young face, not yet defined. Y/n with her h/c hair and curious glinted e/c eyes.

“Draco, I want to start this by saying I don’t know what your home life is like.” Y/n began, “I went to Hogwarts with your parents, though, and he wasn’t always kind. Your mother was cordial with me, though.”

“If you don’t find me intruding, what’s your home life like?”

“I- Um- It’s good.” Stammered Draco, “Father and Mother are always kind.”

Y/n’s eyes glinted with curiosity, “Lucius tolerated me.”

“Tolerated you?”

“I married one of his best friends.” Y/n chuckled, “He didn’t have a choice.”

Draco tilted his head, “Sirius?”

“Oh heavens no!” Y/n exclaimed, “Regulus. Sirius Black's brother.”

“My- My dead cousin?” He queried.

She nodded, “Yes. I married Regulus right after graduation. His parents weren’t thrilled, but he loved me so, here we are.”

“May I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What were his parents like?”

“Horrible. The worst.” Y/n spat, “Sirius got the worst of it, but Regulus did occasionally too.”

“Walburga and Orion were awful. Using the crucio curse is not a great punishment for kids.” Draco’s eyes widened, “Both of them had scars from the curse. Sirius ran away at sixteen, and Regulus was used as their puppet. So used that at the age of eighteen, he felt like he had to prove himself. Which inevitably got him killed.”

“How did you deal with it?”

“Well, would you like my honest answer or my Professor answer?”

“Honest, please.”

“Between you and I, I still haven’t gotten over it.” Y/n shrugged, “I see something that reminds me of him, and I’m back at the start all over again. It takes time, and it’s taken plenty of time, but here I am, doing what I love. Teaching kids.”

“Anyways.” Y/n smiled, “You’re dismissed. I’m sorry I took up your time. However, if you ever feel the need to speak with me, let me know. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Draco picked up his bag, rustling as he stood up. The blond boy was still digesting all the information he gained. He couldn’t believe that his cousins got the crucio curse for a punishment. He thought his parents were bad. Theirs was way worse. Draco was about to walk out of the classroom but turned last minute to look at his Professor.

“Professor?”

“Yes, Draco?”

“There’s-“ He swallowed, “There’s a Quidditch match this Saturday. Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. If you have the time, I’d like you to come.”

“Of course. I’ll be there.” Y/n smiled.

He walked out of the room without a second stop. He felt better about himself now. He had someone who genuinely seemed to care about him. Draco didn’t trust her just yet, but he wouldn’t be opposed to speaking with her as he had just now in the future. Professor Black had always been open and honest with her students. Perhaps that’s why kids liked her so much.

Saturday arrived quicker than Y/n would’ve hoped for one reason. She, herself, didn’t own any Slytherin-colored merchandise anymore. But there was a box in her quarters that she brought with her to Hogwarts every year. Regulus’s old clothes meaning all his scarfs, ties, button-ups, pants, hats, etc. Y/n couldn’t seem to get rid of them. Frankly, she didn’t want to get rid of them either.

Carefully she pulled the cardboard box from the top of her closet. Taking a pair of scissors and breaking the tape seal she had put on it multiple years ago. Inside laid many pieces of the evergreen and silver cloth. Y/n’s hands gravitated to the green and silver scarf. Bringing it to her nose, she was shocked. It still smelt like him. Godric, this was going to be more challenging than she initially thought.

Nonetheless, she put it around her neck along with her button-up and tight-fit pants. Y/n put on the green gloves, much too big for her but had fit Regulus perfectly, the tie, and the scarf. It brought her a sense of nostalgia. It made Y/n feel like she was a fifth-year going out with Regulus on a date to Hogsmeade. But she wasn’t fifteen or in fifth year. Y/n was a Professor and a full-grown adult. And Regulus was dead.

The game was going well for Slytherin at the beginning. But like most Quidditch games, things can change rather quickly. Ravenclaw was studious. That was for sure. They played skillfully. Y/n sat in the Professor stands with the rest of her colleagues. She sat between McGonagall and Flitwick. But white-blond hair caught her attention in front of her. Lucius Malfoy was here spectating his son.

McGonagall nudged her, “Where’d you get the Slytherin gear?”

“Regulus.”

“How have you been, dear?” McGonagall questioned softly, “It’s been a whirlwind, but nothing I can do will bring him back, so ‘m still here for him. It’s what he would’ve wanted.” Y/n replied.

Minerva placed a hand on the girl's knee, “If you need anything, let me know.”

“‘Course, Professor.”

The game ended tragically. Slytherin had just tied the game when Cho Chang had caught sight of the snitch. Sadly, she was able to grasp it before Draco. Leaving Slytherin with two-hundred and thirty points while Ravenclaw ended with three-hundred and eighty points. Lucius seemed furious with this conclusion and stormed off the stands. Y/n knew something was up, so she followed him.

She came up in a deserted hallway in Hogwarts. Draco stood - now changed into the usual Hogwarts robes - and his father stood before him. From the view she had, Draco’s back was to her, and his father was towering over the boy.

Lucius had a cold and icy voice, “You are insufferable!”

“You had one job, Draco! One! Catch the damn snitch.” He scolded, “Perhaps you were too daft to figure that out?”

“‘M sorry, father. I didn’t mean to. Honest.” Draco was pleading and begging for mercy; it made Y/n’s heartache at the familiar words.

“Mum, Dad, I seriously didn’t mean to!” Regulus had cried after breaking a vase, “Excuses, excuses, they won’t get you anywhere in life, boy!” Orion shouted.

Tears collected in his silver eyes, “‘M sorry! ‘M so sorry!”

Walburga pointed her wand at him, “Crucio.”

Lucius scoffed, “Malfoy’s don’t cry, wipe those tears.”

“Should‘ve sent you to Durmstrang. You come to Hogwarts and forget everything I’ve ever taught you.”

“Father, I really didn’t mean to! She just got there faster than me.” Draco begged.

Y/n saw it before Draco did. Lucius raised his palm slowly, and Draco flinched. Y/n saw the pale hand rise into the air, and without a second thought, she ran in front of the young boy, taking the blow that was meant for Lucius’ son. Draco heard the sound but never felt the impact. Carefully he opened his eyes to see Professor Black standing in front of him, a hand on her cheek.

“How dare you get in the way!” Lucius yelled, “How dare I? How dare you for trying to leave a hand on your son!” Y/n retorted her bright cheek red from impact.

Draco was appalled, “Draco is your son! Not a toy or a puppet, and I will not stand for this!”

“You don’t have to, half breed.” Lucius seethed, “As you said, he’s my son. Not yours.”

“I could give less fucks!” Y/n exclaimed, “Draco is my student. I will not be having you lay your hands on my students.”

Lucius scoffed, “Where’s your child, mm?”

“Right, you don’t have one.” Lucius answered, “Because your blood-traitor of a husband decided to get himself killed!”

“Regulus was not a blood-traitor for trying to right his wrongs!”

“Regulus and Sirius were no different from each other.”

“Leave them out of this!”

“Oh, so it’s still a soft spot for you?”

“So help me, I’ll-“

“Petrificus Totalus.” Draco stated while holding his wand, causing his father to fall to the ground, paralyzed.

Y/n stared at the body in shock, “Draco.”

She didn’t even have time to reprimand him before he burst into tears. Y/n turned quickly and embraced him into a much-needed hug while the boy sobbed on her shoulder. Y/n’s hands went through Draco’s white-blond hair gently while he let every emotion out. She pulled away and wiped the tears on his cheeks.

“You’re going to be okay, I promise.” Y/n informed, and Draco nodded, “Th- Thank you, Professor.”

Y/n smiled and sent him off to the Slytherin common room, leaving her to deal with Lucius. The Professor dragged him to Madam Pomfrey to deal with. Later that night, in her quarters, while brushing her teeth, she noticed the considerable bruise covering her left cheek: Blue and purple hues mixed to create a dark blue-violet looking color, almost grey.

Sixth year was now here. Y/n’s fourth year of teaching at Hogwarts, and she couldn’t have asked for a better job. On September 1st, she went through the floo-network to arrive in her teacher's quarters. Looking at the time, it seemed that students were just about reaching onto the grounds when a knock sounded at her door.

“Come in!”

A blond boy, much taller, defined face, and grey eyes had just walked into her teacher's quarters, “Good evening, Professor.”

“Good evening, Draco.” Y/n greeted smiling brightly, “What's on your mind, sweetheart?”

Draco didn’t know where to begin as water collected on his lower lash line, and gently he pulled up his left sleeve. Godric, it felt like deva Vu all over again.

“Y- Y/n.” Regulus called through his tears, “What’s wrong, baby?” Y/n asked, sitting beside him on the four-poster bed.

Regulus couldn’t help the tears that helplessly fell down his cheeks. His eyes were silver and blurred. Cheeks flushed and hair knotted. This past summer had been a shit show for him with Sirius running away and just everything that had gone on. Regulus had never felt this hopeless before.

“I- I need your help.”

“Of course, anything, baby.”

He swallowed, “Just know that I’ll love you forever. Okay?”

“‘Course.”

Gently, he released a breath of air and pulled up his left sleeve. The combined snake and skull only meaning one thing. Regulus was now a death eater to the Dark Lord. Tears sprung in Y/n’s eyes but not because of disappointment but because of worry. She didn’t know what she would do if Regulus were to be gone.

“They forced me!” Regulus pleaded, “Please, please don’t leave me.”

Regulus was weeping, and Y/n took him into her arms, “Shh, shh, I’m not disappointed. I’m just worried about you.”

“I don’t wanna- I don’t wanna do this.” Regulus whimpered, “Please help me.”

“I’m gonna help you ‘m love. Don’t worry.”

“What happened this summer?” Y/n asked as Draco pulled back down his sleeve.

“Auntie Bella.”

Draco was trying so hard to swallow his tears as his Professor was now face to face with him, “Draco.”

How was her voice so sweet and calm, almost like she had done this before, “It’s okay to show emotion. It’s being human. Let it go, darling.”

Just like that, the dam broke, and Draco was a sobbing mess again. How was it that Professor Black had always managed to feel more like home than his actual parents? What had his mum done for him while Bellatrix was giving him the mark? She had just stood there watching pain contort on his face. Y/n felt more like a mother to him, more like family to him.

“Shh. Shh. You’re safe here, Draco.”

“They- They want me-“ He was choking on his words, and Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders, “Take deep breaths and then explain. Okay?”

He began to inhale and exhale air at a slow pace, “They want me to-“ Draco swallowed, “They want me to kill Dumbledore.”

“Okay.” Y/n stated, letting out a breath of air, “You and I will get through this.”

“You- You promise?”

“I promise.”

Perhaps it was instinct now for Draco to stay after in her classroom. After every lesson, Draco would visit her in her classroom just to be in her company or to talk. What was it about Y/n that drew these people close to her? Ones with broken souls who believed that couldn’t be helped. Was it her kindness? Perhaps it was her caring nature—too many variables to pinpoint.

The moment Y/n heard crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, she knew something was wrong. Approaching cautiously, she saw Harry Potter doing the same behind Draco, who stood facing the basin, dried tears on his cheeks. Everything happened too fast for Y/n to understand. But when Harry spoke an incantation that left Draco bleeding out on the floor, everything changed.

She was jumping into action hastily, falling to her knees beside the blond-haired boy while Harry was almost in tears at his mistake. Y/n took her wand out and began muttering spells to heal the boy's chest. Harry was now in a heap on the floor, tears filling his glorious emerald eyes while the Professor took care of his harm. It took ten minutes before the bleeding stopped, and Y/n turned to face Harry.

“Harry.”

“‘M sorry. I- I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad I was here.” Y/n replied, and Harry looked like a mess, “I need you to go to the Gryffindor tower and not speak of this to anyone, okay?”

He nodded and stood up sluggishly. Harry left the bathroom, leaving Y/n with an unconscious Draco. Sighing heavily, she picked up the boy and lugged him to the hospital wing, where he was taken care of. The following day an owl was pecking at Y/n’s window, leading her to wake up and take the note from the owl’s foot.

“Draco won’t stop calling for you.”

Y/n freshened up, brushing her teeth, hair, and a change of clothes before making her way to the Hospital Wing. It was quite a ways away from. Her section of the school, but if Draco needed her, she needed to be there even if it was six o’clock in the morning. Her shoes made a light tap along with the wood as she walked and hesitantly opened the big door to the infirmary.

“Oh, thank Merlin!” Madam Pomfrey said with her hand over her heart, “Draco has been asking for you, my dear.”

She gave a tiny smile as Pomfrey pointed to where Draco was lying. Carefully she stripped back some of the white curtain and pulled a chair beside his bed. Y/n took his hand in his. It was cold and pale. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine holding Regulus’ hand in the same exact way after a horrible Bludger accident.

An hour later, Draco finally woke up, “Mornin’ sweetheart.”

“Professor, you- you came.”

She smiled, “You called for me, of course, I’d come.”

Draco pushed himself up into a sitting position, his grey eyes locked on her warm e/c ones, “Sorry, I just, didn’t expect you to come.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel okay. Little sore but nothing I haven’t been through.”

Y/n smiled sadly, “I knew a boy just like you, you know?”

“You did?” Draco asked, and she nodded, “I did.”

“Could you tell me about him?”

“Well, he was strong, smart, and closed off. His home life wasn’t too great either and was forced into being what his parents were too.” Draco looked eager for more, “Eventually, he realized that this wasn’t the life he wanted. He no longer cared about his parent's approval. He just wanted to be him, but by then, it was too late.”

“Too late?”

She nodded, “He was already in too late, so he did the only thing he thought of. Betraying his parents, his family. He was so caught up in what he was doing he didn’t realize what he was doing, and now, because of that, he’s no longer with us.”

“But you aren’t too late, Draco.” Y/n stressed, tightening her grip on his hand, “Let me save you. Let me help you.”

Tears ebbed at the corners of his eyes, “Please.”

Y/n took him in her arms and rubbed his back soothingly, “You aren’t alone. I’m here for you.”

It took months, but everything was over. It felt like time had stopped. Y/n could remember the terror standing outside of Hogwarts as the death eaters stood on the other side. Narcissa was calling for him - the boy who had no choice - and Draco was panicking as Lucius began calling his name.

Draco swallowed and shook his head.

It was the feeling of relief that brought Y/n solace. Draco took the step that Regulus took, and she would make sure he didn’t pay for it. The relief felt like a breath of fresh air now that the war was over. Y/n had stepped into the Great Hall panicking, hoping, praying that he was okay. At that moment she saw it.

He was crouched in the corner. People were glaring at him all around. Draco saw. He saw the Weasleys crying over Fred. He saw Harry look empty, staring at Remus Lupin and Nymphadora. The way Lavender Brown’s parents sobbed over her dead body. He saw the way Dennis Creevey was yelling and screaming in pain at seeing his deceased older brother. Draco could remember how close they were.

Nonetheless, he stood up and ran into her arms: his solace, home, and safe place. Draco couldn’t remember what it felt like to be held this tight. He dug his nose into her neck and just remembered to breathe. She pulled away to see a small smile playing on his lips. Y/n cupped his cheeks gently.

“I’m so, so proud of you.” Y/n smiled, “I can't explain how proud I am of you. You did it.”

Draco smiled and leaned into her hands, “Thanks, mum.”

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fangirl-imagines · 3 years

Text

Ride Home//Sonny Corleone x Reader

A/N: This took me forever for some reason and is the first time I’ve ever written for Sonny so I hope you guys enjoy it! Requested by @moonliightbabes. Just a warning there are mentions of the reader getting touched against her will but nothing graphic at all.

Summary: Sonny and the reader and married and both hate Connie’s new fiancé Carlo, but when he pushes his luck with the reader Sonny teaches him a lesson.

The car ride home from the Corleone’s house was full of conversation. Albeit, one sided conversation with Sonny doing most of the talking.

“Did you hear the way that slime ball talked to my sister?! I could have rung his neck!”

“And your mother would have killed you.”

“She-” Sonny paused, “That’s beside the point! He still had it coming.”

“Hmmm.” You hummed in agreement, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself as you looked out the mirror.

“What? You cold or something?” Sonny asked, glancing over at you. He reached over and turned up the heat without waiting for your answer.

“I’m fine.” You shook your head.

Sonny glanced between you and the road, turning onto your street. “Alright, you gonna tell me what’s wrong or not? You’ve been acting weird since dinner.”

You looked over at Sonny to deny it but his raised brows told you not to even bother. Your husband could always read you like the back of his hand. You sighed and leaned back into your seat.

“Do you really think Connie is going to marry Carlo?”

“Ha!” Sonny scoffed. “Knowing her, probably. She always could pick ‘em, couldn’t she?” He shook his head. “Man, I miss the days I could chase off all her boyfriends.” He smiled nostalgically to himself.

“He’s not good for her.” You frowned, watching the road. “I don’t like the way he talks to her.” “Me neither, kid. He’ll straighten up if he knows what’s good for him though.”

You glanced at Sonny out of the corner of your eye and bit your lip, muttering under your breath, “He’s a handsy bastard.”

“Sonny!” You yelled, tossing your hands out to catch yourself from hitting the dashboard as Sonny slammed on the brakes, sending you both flying forward.

Sonny whipped around in his seat, the car in park just inside your driveway. Sonny’s eyes were narrowed and hinted with danger as he looked at you carefully.

“What do you mean he’s handsy?”

You swallowed around the knot in your throat. “Sonny…”

“Was that son of a bitch trying to feel up my baby sister?!” He groaned, shaking his head. “In our own mother’s house?!”

You pressed your lips together. He wasn’t going to make this easy. You shook your head and turned in your seat to face your husband. “Look, Sonny, can you just drop it?” You asked as if you didn’t know who you were talking to.

“I’m not fucking dropping anything! What do you mean Carlo was handsy?!” Sonny took a deep breath, relaxing his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel and breathing out through his nose. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m not!” He shook his head, trying to keep his temper in check even though he was already thinking about turning the car around and heading to find Carlo right now if that bastard touched his sister. “Just tell me what happened.” He asked again, calmer this time.

You shook your head, turning to look out the window up at the dark house.

“Sonny, I’m tired. Can’t we just go inside.”

“God, it’s like pulling teeth with you here! Would you just tell me what Carlo did and I’ll-?

“He tried to feel me up.”

Sonny stared at you, his expression frozen as he tried to process your words.

“What are you talking about? He grabbed you?” Sonny asked you through gritted teeth.

You could see his face starting to flush and knew your husband was about to lose his infamous temper. It was the same reason you didn’t tell him about Carlo at dinner, not wanting to cause a scene at Vito and Carmela’s house. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, looking anywhere but at Sonny as you spoke.

“When I was helping your mother in the kitchen. He brushed up against me where she wasn’t looking and he, well, he grabbed me.”

Sonny let out a deep, shaky breath through his nose, his lips pursed as he shook his head. “That son of a bitch!” He slammed his hands down onto the steering wheel over and over, needing to hit something.

“Sonny!” You scolded him as his hand hit the horn.

“Y/N, go inside the house!”

“Sonny, what are you going to do?”

“Damn it, Y/N, would you just go inside!”

You didn’t budge. Sonny rolled his eyes. “Fine then.” He threw the car in reverse with a jolt and started speeding back down the street.

“Sonny, it’s not worth it! Let’s just go home!”

Sonny scoffed, his grip tight on the steering wheel. “Not worth it? The guy tried to touch my wife and you say it's not worth it? I’m gonna kill him.”

Sonny pressed down a little harder on the accelerator.

He was serious, you knew he was. Sonny had always been the protective type. Maybe it was from being the oldest Corleone sibling, maybe it was just a result of his temper, but Sonny had never hesitated when it came to protecting his family and that was especially true when it came to you. The car was barely in park out front of Carlo’s apartment building before Sonny was jumping out of the car, telling you to stay there. You opened your mouth to yell back at him but the car door was slammed shut before the words could leave your mouth. You watched Sonny run up the steps of the apartment building and disappear inside. You bit your nails as you sat in the car waiting.

It was getting late, only two or three people were on the street. You kept glancing around the street then back up at the windows of the apartment building. You almost jumped when the sudden sound of a door slamming echoed in the quiet street. Sonny walked calmly around the side of the car and climbed in, slamming the door shut and turning to look at you. He was panting slightly, his face flushed, and his curly hair rumpled. A quick glance down and you’d spot his bloody knuckles and rumpled shirt but you didn’t need to look to know they were there.

“Is he-? What happened up there?” You asked Sonny nervously, looking up at the apartment windows then back at your husband.

Sonny huffed, starting the car and pulling away from the curb. “Well I’ll tell ya, If he’s got any sense at all he won’t be coming around you or Connie again anytime soon. If he so much as looks at you funny again though, I want you to tell me! No more of this making me drag it out of you business, ya here?”

You nodded, knowing that arguing with Sonny when he was already worked up would be like arguing with a brick wall. “What are you going to tell Connie?”

Sonny was quiet for a second, thinking it over in his mind. “I’m gonna tell her the truth. She was too good for him anyway.”

You chuckled, “No arguments here.” You glanced from the dark road in front of you back to Sonny, eyeing his busted and bloody knuckles on the steering wheel in the moonlight. “Sonny?”

“Yeah, kid?” He glanced over at you from the driver seat. Even with his hair ruffled and his shirt wrinkled he still looked as handsome as ever.

“Thank you.” You said simply.

Sonny’s eyes softened, even the corners of his lips pulling up in a soft hint of a smile. “Aw, come here, kid.” He sighed softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

Wordlessly you slid across the front seat and into Sonny’s side, letting your head rest against his shoulder. Your hand found his as it dangled over your shoulder. Gently you pulled it your lips and kissed the cracked skin on his knuckles tenderly as Sonny took you both home.

#sonny corleone #sonny corleone x reader #sonny corleone imagine #the godfather #the godfather imagine #the godfather x reader #tw assault #tw violence #tw blood

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fluffyk97 · 3 years

Note

🌋

Omg you were quick- But here's a little something.

"What if he bites me?!"

"He's not going to bite you!"

"And how do you know that? He tried to kill us when we first saw him!"

Kai groaned at his teammate's stubbornness to go nowhere near the Earth Dragon before them. Zane and Jay have already started working on getting their own dragons to trust them. Zane was basically a natural like he was taming the Fire Dragon, meanwhile Jay seemed to be making some contraption for his own. Cole however, despite the dire situation of needing to go to the Underworld, refused to go anywhere near his own.

"C'mon, I thought you weren't afraid of anything??"

"And as you heard Zane say, that goes for everything, except dragons!"

Kai glanced over at the Earth Dragon who just yawned and stretched slightly, showing to be growing very tired of just waiting. No intent to snap at any given point ever since the fire one called them all to the temple.

"What's got you so afraid of them anyway? Especially when you've never seen one before until now?" Kai questioned, glancing back at Cole who was hiding behind a tree.

"Well, for one thing, they're dragons," Cole answered simply, only making Kai roll his eyes, "... and there was this one story my mom used to tell me."

"Your mom?" Kai replied back, his interest peaking so he stepped away from the dragon to stand beside Cole who was now sitting on the ground, hugging knees pulled up to his chest as he stared at the earth beneath them. Kai opted to sit next to him.

"She would always tell me stories of these adventures, and one of them was this hero saving these two tribes from a dragon in the mountain. It was always a fun story, and helped teach me to always help those in need, but the Dragon was always so scary sounding, made me scared of ever coming across one in real life," Cole explained before letting out a small chuckle, "now explaining it out loud, I guess it sounds silly I'm sleep afraid of them just because a little story my mom used to tell."

"Mmh, nah, I don't think so," Kai smiled a little as Cole turned his head to look at him, little surprise on his face, "I mean, if you say that's silly, then I guess I should say listening to my dad tell stories about dragons is silly too, but it helped us in the end with me taming Flame over there."

"Flame? You named it?" Cole asked bewildered as he glanced over at the Fire Dragon, now named Flame.

"Why not?" Kai shrugged, standing back up, "but what I'm saying is, our parents tell us stories to leave us lessons to learn from. Mine was about how Dragons can traverse to different realms, and yours was time help others when they need it. So why don't you use your mother's lesson to get up, go over to that Dragon, and tame it so we can help Sensei Wu?"

Cole blinked up at Kai, surprised at this being the same guy who was so reckless and the only thought about saving his sister before, now giving him advice that sounded so well thought out.

"... Okay, I guess you got a point."

Kai smiled before offering his hand to Cole. Cole took it, letting Kai help pull him up. However, Kai didn't let go and began pulling him out from behind the tree, towards the Dragon.

"W-wait, what??" Cole stuttered. The Master of Earth feeling his face heat up just a little as he looked at their hands intertwined.

"Well I know I gave that inspiring advice and everything, but I can understand fears are hard to push pass, so I'll help you out," Kai answered.

Both the Ninja stopped right in front of the Earth Dragon. The Dragon stirred to look at them, studying them almost. Kai made the first move by reaching his hand out which the Dragon sniffed before nuzzling against with his snout.

The Red Ninja grinned, giving the dragon a few scratches before looking back at Cole. The Black Ninja gulped as Kai pulled his held hand closer to the scaley nose, and guided him to press it against the Dragon.

"Oh this is weird..." Cole admitted, feeling cold sweat as his heart raced from both his fear of the Dragon, and admittedly the way Kai held his hand in such a comforting manner as the Red Ninja helped make him start petting the beast.

The Dragon made a similar noise to a purr as both their hand pet and scratched his bumpy scales, closing his large eyes and relaxing.

"See Cole? It's not that bad, seems like all this big guy wants is some attention," Kai says as he finally lets Cole go to let him pet the dragon on his own.

"I... I guess so..." Cole replied, feeling his fear and worry slowly fade as the dragon nuzzled closer to him, letting out a huff.

"And it looks like he really likes you already too," Kai smiled as he crossed his arms over his chest, "Which is great, because we should get going soon, you think you'll be alright to fly?"

"I only just started petting him and you're telling me I got to immediately start riding on him?!"

"Like I said, Sensei needs our help, so better get yourself comfortable on there!" Kai exclaimed, laughing just a little at Cole's misery while he walked off to his own dragon.

Cole huffed as he watched the Red Ninja walk off before he felt the large dragon nudge him a little. Turning his head, he saw the Earth Dragon staring at him, giving him a sort of look.

"Wh-what are you looking at??" Cole asked, the dragon huffing once more as he glanced at the Red Ninja before back to the Black one in front of him. Cole blinked in disbelief before shaking his head, walking to the side of the Dragon, "Whatever! We are not getting into that! Now just, don't throw me off or something as I get up there."

The Dragon huffed once more as he let the Ninja climb up onto him. Cole got himself settled the best he could, sending one last glance to Kai petting Flame before he hopped on his back as well.

The Earth Ninja couldn't help but smile.

#ninjago #lavashipping #kai smith #cole brookestone #asks #strangermask #Sorry if it's nothing you expected but ever since I thought of the idea of Kai helping Cole tame Rocky I wanted to do something with it #This was a nice excuse to do so lol #But yeah Cole be crushing #'He held my hand. He held my hand. He held my hand.'#Is basically what Cole is thinking ssddhddh #Rocky definitely sees it

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bazzybelle · 3 years

Text

Magical Equality Within The World of Mages

I’ve been thinking a lot since I finished reading Any Way The Wind Blows, and there are SO many things that I still need to process. I took my time with reading it, I’ve listened to the audiobook and I plan on re-reading it several times, once I move into my new house and have THAT stress done and over with. I cannot wait to re-read it on my back porch with some iced tea and a notebook to annotate and comment on pretty much everything that gave me feelings.

But for now, there is one massive issue that I want to address, and it plays into the plot for all three books.

Warning for those who have not read Any Way The Wind Blows, this post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution. I am tagging this appropriately, but adding an extra warning just in case.

Huge thanks to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for reading this over and making sure I didn't sound like a rambling mess.

The World of Mages is an incredibly toxic place! This is especially true for anyone who isn’t a magical powerhouse, or stupid rich.

I’m going to not focus on the obvious socio-economic bullshit, because I’m not familiar enough with the British class system to properly comment on it. But if anyone wants to add onto this with a whole meta like that, please do so!

Instead, I’m going to focus on magic use and how detrimental it can be to grow up in this world if you aren’t one of the few who are blessed with the RIGHT kind of magic (I say right kind of magic for a reason, and I’m going to come back to that). I want to focus my attention on three characters (two of whom were drawn into Smith-Richard’s fake promises, and one who was just fed up with it all): Martin Bunce, Daphne Grimm, and Agatha Wellbelove.

1) Martin Bunce: We first hear about Martin Bunce in Carry On. He’s Penny’s dad, a renowned scholar and is leading a team researching the effects of the Insidious Humdrum. He’s a highly respected individual, in his own right. Penny adores him, she only speaks his praises, and I get the feeling she gets along better with Martin, then she does with Mitali. When Penny needs help with Shep’s curse, she trusts her dad to help her after her mother flat out refuses.

While Martin is respected in the community, he isn’t a magical powerhouse. In fact, he isn’t very powerful at all. Baz makes a cheeky little comment about how he must have come from mundanity with a name like “Bunce”, and he doesn’t teach any magical classes at Watford, he focuses mainly on Linguistics.

Professor Bunce is one of the people taken in by Smith-Richard’s message, and I’m kind of glad he is. It shows that Smith-Richard’s message can reach anyone, even someone as scholarly and learned as Martin. Martin Bunce is intelligent, loving, devoted, and the apple of his family’s eye. But, when push comes to shove, all that does not matter because in the end, he isn’t as magically powerful as his wife and kids. How many times has Martin been compared to his wife? How many times has he been compared to his kids? What was it like going to Watford and having to hear about how you barely scraped by in the magical classes? His whole family is obsessed with magic, his daughter's best friend is the Most Powerful Mage. Martin is constantly surrounded by people making comments about power and magic and being strong enough as a magician.

That stuff stays with you... So when you see someone performing magic that can pull you to your full potential, of COURSE you grab onto it and hope that it’s a real thing.

Something interesting to note here; Towards the end of AWTWB, Martin casts a drinking spell, and Baz makes a comment about anyone who could cast that spell in quick succession doesn’t need a power-up. Now, was Martin truly not powerful, or did he just not have the right type of magic? Could he have been a better magician if he was able to find the right situations where his magic responded better? If he was allowed to learn in a way where his magic could have reached its full potential, without the use of a horrible curse?

I have a teaching background, and I’ve worked with a lot of kids in Inclusive Education. I’ve had to differentiate practically all of my lesson plans so that all the kids in my classroom would understand the lesson and be able to reach the goals outlined for them. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve taught, but I look at stuff like this in the World of Mages and my teaching ear perks up.

2) Agatha Wellbelove: Another person who comes to mind, especially with not having the right kind of magic is Agatha Wellbelove. Agatha does not see herself as a very strong magician. She tells Simon that magic for her is like holding a muscle. Pair that up with a mother who is OBSESSED with magic and power and who’s got the most power, and which magical matches will bring about powerful children, and you get someone who becomes resentful of the whole effing thing! I’m not even going to touch the whole “dating the Chosen One” thing because that’s a whole other can of worms.

When we first meet Agatha, she’s already fed up with magic, and wants nothing to do with it, and I can’t say I blame her. She spends all of Wayward Son running away from magic, and meandering through life, being still so unsure of herself and of her place in the world. She calls herself a poor excuse for a magician, yet she manages to save both herself and Penny from the NowNext by summoning fire! That’s a huge flipping deal! Not everyone can do that, yet Agatha is able to summon the power inside herself to do so! Imagine the wonderful magic she could have done if she was taught in a way that spoke to her.

In AWTWB, she is the ONLY person who is able to get through to the Goats. Her magic seems to be connected to nature (if I had to guess). The Dryad, all the way back in Carry On, tells Simon that she and the others find Agatha “peaceful”. That’s her magic. Agatha was able to come full circle by finding peace with the magic she has. She was able to find a place for it. What’s sad is that she felt the need to run away and not want to have it in her life anymore. Her magic is beautiful, yet not enough.

3) Daphne Grimm: So, this is the character that stood out to me the most. Daphne is the reason I even wanted to write this commentary. Those of you who know me, know that I adore this character. Partly because, I’m obsessed with the idea that Baz has people looking out for him and who care about him.

Anyway, Ms. Daphne Grimm is the apple of my eye essentially. I love her, I adore her, and she is treated SO UNFAIRLY by the World of Mages.

What do we know about Daphne? She is Baz’s stepmum, and has four kids with Malcolm. From the first book, there are snarky little comments about Daphne’s lack or power and magic. Baz himself makes a shitty comment about how Daphne’s “blood is as thin as gruel”, even though Daphne goes out of her way to make sure he’s got food sent to his room. She’s extra careful in making sure Baz feels safe in his own home. She suggests to Malcolm that Baz should see a therapist for everything he’s been through, making her the ONLY parent who not only acknowledges her child’s trauma, but tries to do something about it!

She is a GOOD mom!

Ok, we know that Baz wears a ton of masks of indifference in Carry On, and he softens up tremendously in Wayward Son, calling her lovely while teaching him to drive a car.

We learn a lot about Daphne in Any Way The Wind Blows. Namely that Fiona has some pretty nasty opinions about her. (That comment about her kids not being legitimate, and that she’s as “thick headed as she is thin blooded”. Now, imagine you’re Daphne, and the widower of the Great Natasha Pitch asks to marry you. That’s already some MASSIVE shoes to fill. You accept, and you do the best you can, taking care of his son and being a positive presence in his life, meanwhile going to all these posh functions where EVERYONE talks about power and magic. Then to have the sister of your husband’s first wife make snarky comments about your level of power and magic.

That stuff sticks with you.

Daphne doesn’t want her kids going to Watford, the ONLY magical school in the UK (as far as we know). She wants her children to succeed and be known for everything they are capable of doing, instead of being ridiculed for all the ways they’ll come up short. According to Baz, the only reason Daphne graduated from Watford was because she was smart enough to pass every exam (yet, Fiona still makes snarky comments about her intelligence).

Daphne is well aware of how painful it can be to live in the World of Mages and not be a powerhouse magician. Like Martin, she takes matters into her own hands and seeks out a way to make herself more powerful.

It is heartbreaking to look at these three amazing, beloved characters, and think about the suffering they have had to endure by their peers. Both Daphne and Martin get frustrated when those around them question their choice to follow Smith-Richards, stating “you don’t know what it’s like”. Luckily for Daphne, Baz makes an effort to actually understand her, and doesn’t judge her. Even when Fiona mocks her, Baz defends his stepmum. When Daphne berates herself and compares herself to Natasha, Baz reflects on how Natasha would have killed him (something Daphne would NEVER do to any of her children).

We know that Watford did not allow magical creatures, or differently-abled magicians (I use this term for a reason) to study there until the Mage came around and allowed everyone into Watford. This was a great thing, because now, every magical child was given the opportunity to learn how to speak with magic.

However, it should not have stopped there. I spoke earlier on differentiation and on finding the right place for everyone’s magic. What if magicians like Martin, and Daphne, and Agatha are all powerful in their own right, and they just haven’t found their place where their magic fits? Instead of finding the right way to teach these magicians, they are left to struggle and ultimately resent their magic and the magic of the world around them.

Do I hear a social commentary on the state of standardized education? I can’t really comment on the British Educational System, nor the American one, as I am Canadian. What I can say, from my own experience in Canadian classrooms, is that for all the talk we do on making education inclusive, there is still a big push from higher ups for high grades and standardized testing. If any of my followers are British or American and care to share your two cents, feel free to do so. Let’s keep the conversation going!

I think this post might have gotten away from me. I think my point was to act as a defense for people like Daphne and Martin who found themselves fished into a scam all for the promise of feeling like they are enough in their world. I also wanted to defend people like Agatha, who did all she could to run away from all of it, only to find the place where she (and her magic) belonged.

I remember having this discussion on Discord, and one of the points that came up was that maybe The Greatest Threat to the World of Mages was this deeply ingrained prejudice over magicians with different sorts of magic. Magicians who need that extra bit of help to find their way.

We’ve seen in this series how these prejudices can threaten to split the World of Mages apart, and it looks like magicians like Penny, Baz, and Agatha are learning from these mistakes. Only time (and us fanfiction writers) will tell how they end up shaping their world for the future generations.

#any way the wind blows spoilers #awtwb spoilers #meta #is it though?#I mean I GUESS #the simon snow trilogy #the simon snow series #magical equality #the world of mages #this is really just a defense for Daphne

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 3 years

Text

Unlikely friends: Part 2

Azula comes to visit you in the earth kingdom and the two of you spend more time together leading Azula to confess her feelings.

Part one here

Part three here

Azula’s POV

Azula lasted 1 month, 2 weeks and 4 days before she took you up on your offer to escape to the earth kingdom. She and Zuko had gotten into a silly argument and Azula really wanted to get away from the fire nation and him. So she wrote to you and received a reply hours later. You told her to come immediately and listed the address. So Azula was walking through the streets of an earth kingdom village searching for Toph’s school. It was pretty easy, the whole town seemed to be proud to be chosen by Toph Beifong and she passed many people in uniforms or signs boasting this was the proud location of the best earth bending school in the world. Azula knew she’d arrived when she found an 8-foot statue of Toph outside a large building. She supposed Toph herself had made it and had to admire the girl’s confidence. Azula knocked on the door but it fell open. She walked inside and could hear the soft thudding of earth bending somewhere further inside. You had only said to come to the school so Azula didn’t know what to do next. She looked around and found a child around age 10 or so. "You boy tell me where can I find y/n" she called. The boy shrugged "I don’t know". Azula narrowed her eyes "well is she teaching a class? What’s your best guess for her location?". The boy sighed "why should i tell you?". Azula had always hated children and got a strong urge to throttle the boy but she breathed deeply "because i’m a friend of hers and i need to see her". "I’ll take you to her....if you pay me, you look rich". "Five" Azula bargained and the boy shook his head "fifty". "Ten" Azula bargained but the boy shook his head "now it’s sixty". Azula broke and grabbed the boy’s sleeve as she lit her other hand on fire "listen here you little monster....” she started when someone came around the corner. “Sifu Toph this woman is attacking me!” the child cried and Azula paused letting the kid go. “Toph I....”. “Let me guess, you were looking for y/n and Lamo here asked you for money? So you threatened him”. Azula blinked “yes exactly, if you’re upset...” she started when Toph turned to the boy. “Lamo what did I tell you about choosing your opponents wisely? You see a scary fire bender and challenge her? Do you have a death wish?”. The boy stammered “sorry sifu Toph” and bowed deeply. “Enough of that now go train!” Toph barked and Azula admired how the boy ran away as fast as he could. She watched him go before awkwardly turning to your cousin. Azula had hardly spoken to the girl and the few times she had, they’d been trying to kill each other but hopefully that was in the past. “Y/n’s this way” Toph said breaking the silence and Azula just nodded following her. It was an awkward walk but as Toph was your closest family Azula wanted her to like her. “I wasn’t really going to burn him” she clarified “I was just going to scare him a bit”. Toph made a grunt in reply “the lily liver would deserve it, attacking someone from the fire nation, you people are so fickle with your honour. You taught him a good lesson about staying away from fire folk”. “You’re welcome?” Azula offered. Toph shot her a look and Azula realised she shouldn’t have said that. Thankfully they reached you before Toph could reply.

Your POV

You were in the middle of class when you heard the door open and you turned. You stopped midsentence and grinned “Azula!”. You paused realising everyone in the room, including your students were staring and coughed “Azula...if you would please just wait over there i’ll be with you soon”. Azula nodded smiling slightly and you looked away so as to not blush. “Anyway so as I was saying....” you started when Toph stepped forwards “I got this y/n, you go see to your guest”. You grinned “really?”. Toph smiled, she’d seen how your face lit up when you looked at Azula and figured you deserved an evening off. “Sure” Toph nodded and you grinned patting her arm before rushing to Azula. You led Azula outside of the gym and into your private quarters before throwing your arms around her in a hug. "It’s so good to see you but of course sorry circumstances! How are you?". Azula shrugged "i’m okay, me and Zuzu always argue it’s nothing new....thank you for letting me come here on such short notice though. I hope i didn’t cause too much of a disturbance?". "Nah that was the last class of the day so your timing was perfect". Azula blushed as you emphasised the word perfect while staring at her and you smiled. "So i’ll show you where you can put your stuff and then we can go get some food and have a catch-up! I like our letters but it just can’t compare to talking to you in person". Azula smiled pleased you felt that way also "i agree, there’s no replacement for hearing and seeing you". This time you were the one blushing but you smiled brightly and took Azula’s hand "well come on then, let's get started" and led her away.

"It was my fault" Azula sighed recounting the argument to you "i was in a bad mood because of our mother’s visit and so i was snapping at Zuko and then he snapped back". You nodded your head listening with a worried look. "And i know our mother is trying but i...i think i still have some issues with her that i should really address". You nodded your head "would you be able to discuss them with her or do you need more time to heal?". Azula shrugged "maybe, i don’t know....anyway enough about me, tell me all about your new life! How is it being a renown earth bending teacher?". You laughed “i’m not so sure about that, Toph’s the talent, I just handle the basic and beginners but I don’t mind that I’ve never been fond of children, especially as they get older and more annoying”. Azula smiled at you and you frowned “what?”. “Nothing” she smiled looking away “I just knew there was a reason I liked you”. You grinned “because I hate children?”. “Precisely” Azula nodded and you both laughed. "I wish i was around you more" Azula said suddenly and you paused managing not to blush "you do?". She nodded "i feel calmer with you, my temper here feels completely under control but at home...". "Hey the important thing is you're trying to control it" you smiled putting a hand on her arm "you’ll get the hang of it, one day at a time remember?". Azula nodded glancing at your hand on her. You went to move it away noticing when Azula put her hand on top of yours "thanks y/n".

Azula’s POV

“No problem Azula” you smiled and Azula just allowed herself to admire you. You looked so beautiful just sat on the deck of your garden smiling at her...Azula felt her breath stifle. "Why are you staring, is something wrong?" you asked as Azula gazed at you intently but she shook her head "nothing...the opposite actually, you look so beautiful". Azula had no idea where that confidence had come from but she meant what she said, here with you all her insecurities just melted away. She felt good enough, you made her feel good enough. A blush appeared on your cheeks but you only looked away for a few seconds. “You should see it from my view" you replied and Azula grinned. Azula had made her feelings clear and this was you returning them. She couldn’t be happier but she had to make sure before she moved onto the next step...

Your POV

Azula smiled and leant closer to you “y/n can i kiss you?". "I thought you’d never ask" you smirked and Azula kissed you. She held onto your cheek softly as she tenderly and almost cautiously kissed you. Azula was very gentle and you were pleasantly surprised, you found this timid Azula adorable. You pulled away and the sun made Azula’s face glow but her red cheeks were all her own. "I...i like you, a lot" Azula blushed and you smiled taking her hand "i like you too...a lot". Azula laughed "that’s a relief! It’d be awkward if you didn’t after that”. You laughed “it would be” and stroked the top of her hand “but that’s not the case, I like you with every fibre of my being. I have since our trip” you explained. Azula nodded “I did too I just didn’t realise it, i’m annoyed it took me this long but I mean to make up for the lost time”. “That sounds good” you smiled and Azula’s eyes flicked over you. “In that case....can i kiss you again?". "Yes and you can stop asking now, the answer will always be yes" you told her. "Got it" Azula nodded and you smirked at how adorable she was before leaning in to kiss her again.

The next few days were a blur with Azula. You took her all over your town and just enjoyed being totally and utterly in each others company. It was the perfect weekend for a new couple but Azula was scheduled to leave the next day putting a slight negative atmosphere over the day.

After a walk to a restaurant Azula had taken a liking to you returned to the porch where you first kissed and lounged in the sinking sunlight. “I don’t want you to go” you said softly and Azula nodded draping her arm around you and pressing her face into your hair “me either”. You melted into her more and Azula wrapped her arms around you fully. Azula held you, watching the sunset and marvelled at how perfect her visit had been. Since she was a child she didn’t think such a sweet innocent experience would ever occur to her but she was wrong. She looked down at you against her and an idea came to her.

“Come back to the fire nation with me” Azula said suddenly and you sat up surprised. “Come back...but Azula you know I have to stay here and help Toph”. “I didn’t mean permanently I just meant for the remainder of my mom’s stay? She’s only going to be another 4 days and I meant what i said, i’m better around you and i want to show my mom and Zuko that i’m not who i once was and i think i can with your help...". The tone of Azula’s voice made you sigh and you turned to face her properly "you said that knowing i wouldn’t be able to resist didn’t you?". Azula smiled "i suspected appealing to your selfless kind nature might help". "Stop flattering i’ll come back with you" you rolled your eyes and Azula gasped. "Y/n thank you!" she cried peppering your face and lips with kisses. You pretended to be annoyed but seeing Azula’s genuine happiness at the thought of you coming back with her made you smile.

Azula’s POV

You stayed out on the porch long after the sunset and when you did stumble inside you both jumped to see Toph sat in the room. “Nice night?” she asked. Azula felt her hand in yours and knew even though the girl was blind she could sense things like this. Azula glanced at you but you didn’t seem nervous. “We did thank you, how about you?”. Toph nodded her head “I did, y/n can you please do and tell Raosheng in the village that I will be requiring his help running the school while you are in the fire nation?”. Azula jolted expecting an argument but again you didn’t tense. “I have already sent him a letter but I will go and make sure he knows, be right back” you smiled and walked out the door. Silence settled and Azula stared at Toph in horror. Toph was basically your only family, the person who meant the most to you in the world...if she didn’t get on with her that could wreck the whole relationship. Azula cleared her throat “so you heard our conversation about y/n visiting me?”. Toph nodded her head “I didn’t mean to but I got worried you were trying to poach my best teacher”. “No i’d never try and take her from you, I know how much you both care for one another” Azula rushed to reassure her. Toph made a noise and stood up going to leave the room. “Do you...did you hear anything else?” Azula asked and Toph paused. “I know you’re dating my cousin if that’s what you mean”. Azula went to ask how when Toph laughed “the two of you aren’t subtle, y/n’s always worn her heart on her sleeve but even she was too blissfully happy for it to be because of your presence alone, no offence”. “None taken” Azula shrugged. She supposed Toph must be fine with it and so satisfied her relationship wasn’t in danger went to leave the room when the door closed. “I trust y/n to make good decisions” Toph said suddenly “she a good judge of character and she trusts you so I do too...but if you ever harm or hurt her....you’re powerful but I took you out once and I’ll do it again”. “That was in the eclipse” Azula pointed out before she smiled “but I understand, trust me I have no intentions of ever harming her or letting her get hurt, she’s one of the few people I would never let anything happen to”. Toph nodded “I believe you will honour that promise, you better...” and left the room.

The next day

You and Azula stood waiting for the airship and Azula kept glancing at you often. “I’m not going anywhere, I promised to come with you so I am” you said and she jumped “was I that obvious?”. You smiled “just a little bit” and took her hand discreetly. Azula knew the earth kingdom was worse than the fire nation for judging same-sex relationships and so stood up taller ready to defend you if necessary. “So how was your conversation with Toph?” you asked and her posture slumped. “You knew she was going to give me the protective sibling talk! You left us alone together on purpose”. “Of course!” you grinned “I knew Toph wanted to get her threats out of the way and so i’m sorry but I let her, I figured you of all people could handle it”. Azula nodded “I managed to convince her I won’t harm you or ever let anyone else hurt you, so yes you were right”. “I figured that when I came back and the school was still standing” you joked. Azula smiled “I wouldn’t attack her she’s your family, but if she attacked me first....well that’s just retaliation”. You laughed and smiled at Azula “thank you for being so perfect this weekend, now it’s my turn to try and do the same in your home”. Azula took your hand “you’ll be perfect I promise”. “Well I guess there’s only one way to find out” you said and nodded to the airship that had appeared in the sky. “Are you ready?” Azula asked as the ship came closer. You nodded and squeezed her hand tighter “next stop the fire nation”.

____

Next and final part the fire nation!!

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

A Good Man

Anniversary Request Special

Description: Seungmin loves you so much so that he wished he was the one left behind in the plane crash, not your late husband.

Warning: guilt, plane crash, death

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Seungmin

Chan was a good man— loyal, loving, reliable. Seungmin is a good man too, but Seungmin is not Chan, and he knows it. He knows it well.

He approaches you, bouquet in hand. You turn and smile when you hear him.

“Hi, Seungmin.”

“Hello, Y/N. Where’s Miyeon?”

“I left her with her grandma. She isn’t quite old enough to sit still for stuff like this yet.”

“I see.” He set the flowers by the picture of his late leader. “I should leave the two of you alone then.”

“No, wait, Seungmin,” you stop him. “Would you like to have dinner with us this evening?”

You’re inviting him to dinner? His eyes slide to Chan’s framed smiling face. No, he mustn’t get his hopes up. There probably isn’t something more to this invitation. You probably just don’t want to be alone on your late husband’s fifth death anniversary. “Sure. Where? I’ll see if any of the boys are free too.”

“No, I meant just the three of us at my place,” you clarify. “I… I have something to say.”

Seungmin can’t stop his heart from accelerating even though he knows it’ll hurt more later. “O-okay.”

You nod and turn back to the memorial. Seungmin watches as you whisper something into the single white carnation in your hand and set it on the altar before he himself turns to give you room.

He finds it ironic that he was actually the reason why you and Chan were together. You were his classmate whom he reunited with when Stray Kids did a reality show at a site you worked. He was even the best man at your wedding. He remembers that day clearly— that day when he saw you walking down the aisle dressed in white. He’d never felt so sick as he did then when realization and regret hit him all at once. He loves you. Since when, and for how long, he didn’t and doesn’t know, but it was and is too late.

He finds it even more ironic, however, that he is the reason you two are now torn apart.

He raises his finger and presses the bell. Within seconds, the door is thrown open wide and a bubbly five year old greets him. “Hello, Uncle Seungmin!”

He automatically bends down and scoops the child up. “Hi there, Miyeon. Have you been a good girl today?”

“Uh-huh! You can ask Mommy!”

As if on cue, you pop out from the kitchen. “Yes, she’s been a well-behaved angel. Welcome in, Seungmin.”

You take the melon he’d brought while he takes off his shoes. Seungmin’s a bit surprised to see three lit candles on the dining table when he walks in, but says nothing of it. He does, however, raise an eyebrow when you off-handedly mention you baked his favourite chocolate cake. He knows the recipe calls for red wine, and for a single mother such as you, anything that does not involve your child usually does not fit into your schedule, let alone cross your mind.

After dinner, you take your daughter to her playroom upstairs with a large plate of cookies that are obviously meant to keep her distracted for a while.

Seungmin watches as you scurry back downstairs afterwards. You’re wearing a skirt. He doesn’t remember you wearing a skirt since you gave birth. He thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, but the effort you put into looking nice makes him blush a shade darker.

“Shall we?” you dramatize, pulling out the dessert.

Seungmin helps lay out two plates while you serve a slice onto each.

“You mentioned you have something to say?” he asks as you both tuck your chairs in.

Are you blushing, or is it just the heat from these candles?

“I, uh… Let’s eat first.” You smile sheepishly. “I haven’t had this in so long.”

Despite having his favourite dessert, Seungmin cannot concentrate on its taste at all. He watches as you cut through the moist cake with your fork. He can tell you’re nervous by the way your joints are turning white by your grip on the utensil. He’s used to being the anxious one, so this is new. What could have gotten you so on edge?

At last, you’ve scraped every last drop of cream you can procrastinate with into your mouth. Seungmin takes the plates and sets them into the sink before sitting back down in front of you, waiting patiently.

“What I want to say is,” you begin carefully.

He nods once and leans forward, letting you know you have his attention.

“We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?”

“Yes, why?” Goodness, this sounds like a line from every other friends-to-lover romcom skit. Not that he would mind. As long as you tell him you feel the same way he does, he wouldn’t care if you quoted “Twilight” verbatim. Oh, to be in a lighthearted romcom with you, Seungmin dreams of nothing more. Then again, he reminds himself, these are just dreams.

“Ever since… ever since Chan passed, we grew closer, and I depended on you a lot. You’ve been my cornerstone, and I wanted to say ‘thank you.’”

He nods again, but doesn’t say anything. He knows you enough by now to recognize you have more on your mind.

Indeed, you continue. “And over these past five years, my heart has—”

“Mommy!” A sudden cry sends you both to your feet.

“I’ll tell you later,” you toss over your shoulder to Seungmin who’s running right on your heels towards the cry.

“Miyeon!” you gasp, seeing the state of your daughter. Somehow, she has managed to squeeze through the gaps between the railing of the stairs and is hanging from the second floor. Below her, her stuffed monkey lays sprawled out on ground level.

“I’ll pull her up,” you decide, but Seungmin stops you.

“It’ll be hard to fit her back through those rails, and she’s crying too much to cooperate.” He stands under your daughter and extends his arms upwards. “Miyeon? Miyeon, let go. Uncle Seungmin will catch you. You’re going to be alright.”

The little girl stops wailing for a moment and looks down only to cry again from the intimidating height.

“Sweetie, it’s okay. You can do it. We won’t let you fall,” you add in. “You trust us, don’t you? You trust Mommy and Uncle Seungmin?”

She quiets down again and sniffles as she looks at you and Seungmin now instead of the floor. Her tiny arms are shaking, and you brace yourself, knowing she’s going to fall soon whether she wants to or not.

Miyeon whimpers once more and closes her eyes. She then finally releases her grip and lands squarely into Seungmin’s awaiting arms.

“Oof. There we go. Safe and sound,” he assures her.

Once she’s set on the floor, Miyeon again begins to bawl from shock. “Mr— Mr. Bananas wanted to climb. Mr. Bananas wanted to climb!” she sobs, gripping the stuffed animal you’ve returned back to her arms.

“Okay, okay, we understand. Still, no more climbing for you or Mr. Bananas, alright?” hushes Seungmin.

You pick up your daughter and bounce her on your shoulder. “I think she’s learned her lesson. I didn’t think we still needed baby rails, but I guess you can never be safe enough.”

Seungmin reaches for Miyeon. “Let’s put her to bed. She must be exhausted after all that.”

You nod and let him carry the five year old up the stairs once more. You have him wait downstairs though as you change the child, so he heads back down and makes himself comfortable on the couch. On the lamp table beside him, there’s a photo of you and Chan excitedly holding up an ultrasound. It is the only picture of the three of you together.

He runs this thumb over the other man’s face, wiping it free of any dust. “I’m sorry…” he whispers. “I know it’s not worth much, but I’ll keep Y/N and Miyeon safe and happy. I promise.”

He quickly sets down the picture and stands when he hears you closing the bedroom door.

“Is she alright?” Seungmin asks when he sees your head appear from around the corner.

You nod, descending the steps quietly. “She’s sleeping now. She’ll forget all about it by tomorrow morning.”

“I wish I could say the same when I get hurt. I can’t even sit in certain positions anymore,” he jokes.

You laugh lightly. “I’m glad you were here, Seungmin. Things could have been a lot different if it were just me.”

“I’m always happy to help. I should get going now though. You must be tired too.”

“Wait.” Your voice stops him at the front door. “The accident… I’m thankful you were here, and I realized it had to be you. You had to be the one to do it.”

His stupid hope is rising again. He can feel it in his chest. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

“Miyeon, she wouldn’t have trusted anyone except you. She needs you, and I… I need you too.”

Is he hearing incorrectly? His silence and bewilderment prompts you to explain. “The thing is, ever since Chan passed five years ago, you were the only one who’s been by my side, supporting and caring for me, and slowly, I’ve fallen for that. Seungmin, I know I come with a lot of baggage, but would you be willing to give us a try?”

He wants to jump, he wants to cheer, he wants to accept your confession, but none of this makes sense to logical Seungmin, so he restrains himself.

“Y/N, do you realize what you’re saying?”

You nod. “I-I know it’s sudden, but I like you, Kim Seungmin.”

“But you love Chan.”

You hesitate but nod in agreement anyway. “I’m not going to put you second. I—”

“Y/N, I killed Chan. Don’t you see? You should hate me instead. If it weren’t for me, you’d still have your husband, and Miyeon would still have a dad. If I hadn’t stood under that propeller after the plane crash, Chan wouldn’t have had to push me and get crushed in the head. I killed Chan, and no matter what I do— no matter how much I love you too— I can never stand in his place.”

You take a moment to stare at him, trying to read his body language after that confession of insecurity. After a while, you straighten your back and look him right in the eyes.

“You’re right.” He’s startled by your sudden firm tone. “You can never be Chan. You’re not a music-producing insomniac. You’re not Australian. You’re not born with curly hair.”

He swallows and hangs his head.

“But,” you continue. “I’m not looking for another Chan. I’m not looking to replace him; I’m looking for you.”

“Y/N…”

You soften your voice. “When I found out how he passed saving you, I knew I was going to be okay. I knew Chan wouldn’t leave me and his unborn child to fend for ourselves. He saved you because he knew he could count on you, and it’s why I trusted you from the beginning and why I let myself fall in love again.”

You walk up to him and take his hands. “Let me ask this again. Will you, Kim Seungmin, stand by my side, not as Chan, but as someone who loves and is loved?”

His heart pounds in his head, yet he cannot take his eyes off of yours. His throat is tied into knots, yet he cannot stop the words from tumbling out.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he breathes.

You smile and wrap him in a hug, which he finally returns. Just then, footsteps thump down the stairs and a five year old child waddles into view.

“Mommy?” she calls. She then takes a moment to look around before her eyes land on Seungmin. “Daddy?”

#kim seungmin #seungmin #stray kids #seungmin fic #seungmin imagine #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #fem reader #anniversary special #20210820

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moonlit-imagines · 3 years

Text

Headcanons for being Hope van Dyne’s child

Hope van Dyne x child!reader

Scott Lang x stepkid!reader

warnings: insects (ants), sharp weapons

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Happy holidays darling! Would you write HC for Hope Van Dyne's child? Love the step-parents HC 🥰”

growing up as a lil smarty pants

grandpa hank was pretty proud, although he didn’t see you very much

once every few years

but he did tell you all these crazy stories about his adventures that you honestly thought were just fiction (until you were older)

“and i was as small as an ant, but i was still incredibly strong! remember that, kid. just because you aren’t as big as someone else doesn’t mean you can’t beat them” -hank

“y/n doesn’t need to be hearing those stories, hank” -hope

“why not? they have important life lessons in them!” -hank

“why does mommy call you ‘hank?’” -you

“because mommy hates grandpa, isn’t that right?” -hank

“okay, i think that’s enough of this visit. come on, y/n, time to go” -hope

your mom was very supportive of you, nonetheless

she wanted to be different from her dad

so she showed up to EVERYTHING

birthdays, sick days, tucking you in for bed, parent-teacher conferences, art shows, you name it

“here’s some tea, jellybelly. it’ll make your throat feel better” -hope

“mom, i think i’m dying” -you

“you’ll be fine” -hope, givin’ u a kiss on the forehead

life wasn’t like, extra crazy or anything. sometimes she’d bring you to work and honestly? darren cross didn’t seem like the worst guy. he even brought you whatever you might need if your mom was staying late at work

“hey, van dyne junior! i brought you a puzzle that might keep you busy for a while...and a happy meal from mcdonalds! let me know if you need anything else, me and your mom will just be in the lab for a little while” -darren

“thank you!!!” -you

uh huh, ur mom taught u manners!

anyways you started spending more time with your grandpa cuz they had a plan

thats when you found out that his “turning small” stories were not, in fact, bullshit

“wait grandpa...you actually did shrink as small as an ant?” -you

“why would i lie?” -hank

okay well cue you wanting to shrink down to ant size now it was your new aspiration

you did learn how to command ants tho!!!!!!

but unfortunately (or not so unfortunately) hank brought scott to the party

“hi!” -you, waking scott up

“what?!” -scott, jumping back against the headboard

“hi.” -you, staring at him “im y/n. these are my ants”

bullet ants were just crawlin around the place

“oh, that’s....that’s cool. any chance you could tell me where i am or how i got here” -scott

“wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy” -you, leaving abruptly

“are you bothering our guest?” -hope, watching you proudly nod “good job, jellybelly”

mom taught u how to punch 🥰🥰🥰

and let you use scott as a punching bag

but scott wasn’t like awful or anything he was just insufferable at times

“i think you’d like my daughter cassie. she’s weird and smart just like you” -scott

“did you just call me weird? mom, can i punch him again?” -you

“no no no! i meant weird in a good way! please dont hurt me anymore!” -scott

chasing him around the yard ready to ATTACK

hank had to tell u to cut it out

“dont tell them what to do” -hope

“someone has to” -hank

“excuse me? i parent y/n just fine, better than you ever did for me!” -hope

“do they do this often?” -scott

“every time they see each other but that’s not very much” -you

“hm...hey, do you like ice cream? specifically baskin robbins?” -scott

ur mom said “we do not associate with idiots ❤️” and then proceeded to associate with said idiots

scott did end up saving u from darren tho bc that mf tried to hold u hostage and scott was really not in the mood for that bullshit

“you alright, y/n?” -scott

“murder is okay, right?” -you

after that whole ordeal he and your mom were kinda a thing uh huh

and he introduced you to cassie!!! she was amazingly sweet and you could def see the family resemblance

“is this my new sibling?! i’ve always wanted one!” -cassie

“hey, me too!” -you

you hung out with her on a weekly basis, with or without scott

and mom and grandpa were working on a ✨special project✨

one you insisted on being apart of

“no, y/n, we can’t make you your own suit. you’re too young for this sort of thing” -hope

“pleaaaaase mom? i swear i’ll he responsible with it!” -you

“you’re mother is right, y/n. you’re just not ready yet. maybe someday, but not anytime soon” -hank

scott took you on family bowling trips yes he did

and just corny stepdad shit

but he went to germany and mom and him broke up and FF to two years later when you guys had finally reunited

“scott!! you asshole!!” -you, like this -> :)

“kiddo!! sorry to hear that!!” -scott, same energy

shading him the whole time

“ach mein gott” -you

“are you kidding me, y/n? i make one mistake. ONE” -scott

“you’re one mistake has caused me to live in MINIATURE HOMES” -you

“THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD THING” -scott

“WELL IT’S NOT” -you

“did you at least miss me?” -scott

“sicher habe ich” -you

“god dammit” -scott

surprise!! u kind of had a suit (for emergencies)

as a van dyne/pym, it was almost a necessity to know how to use pym particles

scott acted like a proud dad

“wow, you’re really doing it!!!” -scott

“halt die klappe” -you

“please stop” -scott, tearing up

finding out about ✨grandma✨

she possessed scott and touched ur face and told you that she was so excited to meet you but you didn’t know wtf was going on and you had the urge to smack scott but THANKFULLY you did not

“i have to meet her for real! let me help you guys!” -you

“okay” -hope

“what? really?” -you

“it’s about time we put your genius to good use” -hope

scott offered you a high five for that and u literally accepted it

“don’t get too happy, that was just an in-the-moment thing” -you, watching scott’s eyebrow raise “fine. you can have a hug”

okay okay well everything went okay and then half the world ~vanished~ including ur whole family but like cassie and her family took you in and you spent five years very alone and upset until one day cassie called you downstairs and whoopdedoo???? scott???????

“is my mom with you?” -you

“sorry, sport, she’s not...do you have your suit with you? we need to go on some...hero business” -scott

you missed scott a lot over the past 5 years, this really did cheer you up, even if it was just him

“how’ve you been holding up the past few years” -scott

“the world sucks, man” -you

“i can see that” -scott

he turned on some tunes for the two of you to enjoy otw to the avengers hq and it was probably the best memory you created since everyone disappeared

“wait, reach into the glove box” -scott

“oh, god, i hope there’s no rodents in here...” -you, reaching for a picture “is this..?”

“family photo!! you were little back then, i can’t believe how time flies. i mean, it flew really quick for me, the quantum realm is no joke” -scott

you were busy staring at the picture of your mom, you really missed her

busy ~saving the world~

and going to 2012 with scott

“hey uh just so you know, i might be able to make pym particles” -you

“‘might?’ and if we use faulty pym particles we ‘might’ die. would you like that?” -tony

“hey, back off, stark. they’re just trying to help” -scott

next thing u know ur in present day and THEN u actually got to hold the scepter bc scott let u

“im gonna stab you!!” -you

“no!!!” -scott

the other avengers, literally mourning natasha while you chase him around with a sharp weapon: 😧

okay after the place was destroyed u got to face mr. purple man and yo mama showed back up and saw you on the front lines

“y/n????” -hope

“mom????” -you

“scott!!!!” -scott

“really, scott? a shrek reference? now?” -you “...nice”

the reunion with your mom was short and sweet but you missed her forehead kisses and she gave you one immediately!!!! and she was crying but you were too bc damn

“listen, after this, we’re gonna have such a fun family night. i’m so sorry i couldn’t be there for you all this time” -hope

“mom, it wasn’t your fault...it was that purple bastard, let’s get him!” -you

“they grow up so fast...” -hope

i n s e c t f a m

insect fam killed it out there and then ✨attended tony’s funeral✨ together right after

that’s one solid family 😌💖

anyways time to celebrate a (halfway) return to normalcy

with your *sister* cassie and your mom and your...scott

you were just happy to all be together again, it’s been WAY too long

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot //

342 notes · View notes

little-nightmare-gt · 3 years

Text

Finding Family

Probably the one and only SMP Minecraft fic I'll make.... probably. Join us with Tommy and Tubbo, two borrowers living out in the wilds. Borrowers, Fae etc. Creatures are rare and sought after by wealthy people. Giants (Humans and some Hybrids) are considered monsters to borrowers, and often feared. Comms are a thing for everyone. @baka-monarch you wanted to be tagged.

Warning: Abandonment, blood, implied burning, growth in small areas, near death experience, near crushed experience, Technoblade.

Tommy and Tubbo weren't bad kids, they were young with no parents. They were taught the rules by strangers who abandoned them the moment they could borrow.

They were born in captivity and sold to a rich child with a fascination with hurting things, if by Tommy's missing wings and Tubbo's scared face had anything to do with it.

People didn't stay with them for long.

Tommy was always too loud and Tubbo too easy, and they only stuck together.

They were a bit upset at being alone but both deemed to not need anyone else.

The two decided to leave and find another place to live, somewhere not many monsters dare to go. The Artic.

Tubbo built their first house, near a tree close but not part of the forest. Tommy began the underground gardening system which Tubbo ended up making it automatic, but continued to make touches and railroad tracks into caves and mines.

They hunted rabbits in the area for meat, and often take from the near by village.

One day though, Tubbo noticed an abandoned cottage near the village and quickly messaged Tommy about it, who immediately agreed to scoping it out for a hideout.

After gathering their supplies for the day, they went to explore the cottage.

There was a small enough crack in the door frame the the two borrowers to slip into. They froze at the large still warm room.

It wasn't dusty, so it couldn't be more than a few days that someone had been there. Tommy was a bit confused about it seeing as he would have noticed someone pass through here.

Tubbo pointed out that they lived near a forest and most people avoid them, but froze at the sound of a clatter.

Tubbo, with the better ears could hear aggressive whispering, "Someone is in my house Phil, the door didn't open, where are they?"

Tubbo nodded to his friend and pulled him closer to the counter and skimmed closer to the wall, taking out his hook, he and Tommy climbed up the counter at his urging.

Tommy made it first seeing three of their kind, "Sup Bitches!"

Tubbo made it up in time to see three grown men jump in fear, examining each one as Tommy talked.

The tallest looked to be a piglin Hybrid, the smaller usually stay in the Nether where their known about and treated equally. He wore a surprisingly nice long sleeve blue shirt and cloak.

The next looked human but his features suggest he's a piglin as well...just more human looking. He wore a similar cloak and shirt and the tall one.

The final man was shorter than Tommy, he had wings which was surprising in itself. That he still kept them after all, he wore a similar shirt but instead of a cloak he was a ponch and a bucket hat. What startled Tubbo, was that he seemed to be studying them like he was them.

There eyes met briefly as Tommy waved his arm in front of him sounding heated, causing him to tone in.

"I'm calling as I see it! The old man's gonna get it if he doesn't stop staring at my friend!"

"For someone so small, why are you so loud? Don't call us pets!" The middle one growled out.

"Where's the monster of this place anyway, we've never noticed anyone coming to and from here." Tubbo interrupted.

He watched the tallest flinch as the shortest puffed up angrily ready to defend their owner when Tommy interrupted, "Tubs, they could be one of those people."

Tubbo flinched, and looked at the older men, "Surely Not, Big Man, something is off about them but we can leave if you want."

"What! After you insult us! What kinds of people!?"

"Monster apologists, their pets who do anything for their Master. Even capture more of our kind, we've been here to long, let's go." Tommy led the way, leaving the shocked men on their counter top.

Tubbo stares at them, "Do you not have a rope to climb down? I didn't see and ledges and stuff to move around on."

The shortest still glared but it soften a bit, "I can get us down, where do you live? Can we visit?"

Tubbo looked down at Tommy as his friend shook his head no, "We'll visit you."

The kid jumped, catching the rope instead of plummeting to his doom. The three men looked over the ledge with eyes in shock as Tubbo pulled his hook down.

Tommy grinned up, "Have fun with your Monster folks!"

His friend yanked him along as the middle one made offended noises, something not sitting right as they squeezed through the door and made their way home.

"Tommy, I think they were in captivity. They didn't know how to react to us and two of them were piglin Hybrids, they probably got sold."

"Poor blokes, we'll visit them tomorrow, I'll apologize to them too." He didn't want to, but even he was a victim of only knowing monsters.

Tubbo began to start dinner, it becoming darker and darker outside.

========

The snow beginning to pick up, Tommy was working on his stone sword when someone knocked on the door.

Tubbo had a hunch on who it was.

He was correct when three familiar faces were shown shocked at the sight of them, "If you're coming in, please hurry."

Tommy shut the door with a knowing look as the grown men inspected their home, "So you two live alone? How old are you seven?"

Tubbo could hear the concern but Tommy huffed, "We are fifteen thank you very much! What about you old people? Huh? Ancient?"

"Well let's introduce ourselves huh? I'm Wilbur, I'm the very charismatic of the bunch. My brother here is Technoblade, he's the fighter. Here's the old man, Philza or Phil."

Tubbo can just feel Tommy roll his eyes, "I'm Tommy the handsomest in the whole land and the biggest man, and over there is Tubbo, he is my best friend and brother. Wilbur, your names shit, I hope you know that."

Tubbo continued to say nothing as he finished making dinner and Tommy continued, "So, how did you end up in a mon-"

"Before you finish that sentence, Mate? What monster and why do you call him that?" The newly dubbed Phil asked.

Tubbo answered as he approached, "That's what our kind call big folk, you know, giants? Human and Hybrids? They're monsters, all of them."

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, "How about size shifters? Reckoned they're good."

Tommy tilted his head, "Haven't met one that wanted to shrink to our size, seen a few go Titanic but they tried to kill everyone."

Tubbo might have been the only one to see the oldest man frown a bit before smiling, "How about you two show us how to survive, like without the big folk."

Tommy caught on to the fact he didn't say Monster but said nothing, "Don't know, you three are pets-"

"We are not pets!" Technoblade finally spoke, his eyes peering down at Tommy and him being unfazed.

Tubbo sighed, he honestly didn't know what to think about the implications he was getting but no harm in being prepared, to bad this was the last time he'd think on it.

For a moment, the other teen seem to contemplate it.

Tommy's face finally grew Stony, "Nope, you're better off as pets or being self taught. You can spend the night but leave after."

Unfortunately, years of being abandoned is still a fresh wound.

Wilbur tried reasoning, "You're the only ones we've met like us! We've no idea how to do things on our own! Also if we run away-"

"You'll lead your monster straight to us and get us all caught, I'm not risking our lives like that." It was rare that Tommy put his foot down, but even rarer for Tubbo to object.

"If we don't, they could still tell their Monster where we are." Tommy looked shocked but resigned.

Technoblade looking a bit uncomfortable before speaking again, "He wouldn't bother you even if he did know."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Riiiight."

====An image of drawn on wings appears on Tommy's back and tears on Tubbo's face.====

It started off slow, teaching basics of climbing and mending clothes first. Technoblade was great at mending, nearly on par with Tubbo. And he and Wilbur both Excell at climbing. Philza was actually on par with Tubbo for mending and pretty decent at climbing without rope, though he had wings he referred to it as handicapping himself.

They were decent in keeping up with Tommy and Tubbo themselves, but the two found that they were better fighters.

Now the teens needed fighting lessons, though the sneaking and stealing was the difficult part.

It's kinda insulting for these grown men to ask for help and not need it, and Tommy let them know.

They were sheepish as Tubbo led Techno to the farm, they bonded over the automatic farm he and Tommy created. Technoblade suggested and easier way to do it but Tubbo shook his head sadly.

"Mobs love going after our kind, not Endermen, even when we look them in the eye. But other mobs will Hunt us down. We try not to dig that deep, and avoid getting Iron ores...not that we can use them." Understanding reached the older Hybrid's eyes as Tubbo led him away.

It had been two weeks after that conversation that Tubbo finally let them see his horns, rubbing at them as they matured and needed a day.

Philza remain with him as Tommy took Techno and Wilbur hunting with him.

The elder man asking the hard questions as he made the child some tea, "Tell me, how did you get your...wounds."

Tubbo flinched and backed away from Phil before taking a deep breath, "Tommy and I...we were born and raised in captivity, we got sold to be a child's pets. They hurt Tommy so bad, then they tried to set me on fire with a torch...their mother stopped them before they touched me. But they believed me and Tommy were too...broken. so we were thrown out.

"More of our kind found us, but after teaching us what we know they left us. It's why we live outside instead of in the walls of a Monster's house...Tommy was too loud and I was too dumb to leave him."

Phil looked on the verge of tears, "You're not dumb, you're pretty wise for your age."

Before dozing off Tubbo managed to speak again, "No choice when you and yer friend are alone."

In the month, Tommy managed to let slip that he used to have wings and broke down in Tubbo's arms as the adults looked on in horror.

A child, ripping off his wings just because he asked them for an hour of rest. Then proceeded to play with said wings, nobody said anything as Phil flutted his own wings and occasionally covered the two children like a shield.

====The Next Month====

Tubbo laughed as Wilbur and Tommy shouted at each other about the best way to hunt. Phil would disappear once a week before returning with soft material for clothes, but Technoblade.

Technoblade was acting peculiar and even Tommy noticed, the two would ask if he were okay but he would nod and shoo them off.

The piglin Hybrid had been looking uncomfortable for the past few days, Phil and Wilbur seem to be waiting for something while Tubbo tried everything in his power to make him comfortable.

Tommy was concerned, not that he would show but got the material for Tubbo's gift to the older men.

For Philza, Tubbo made another ornament for his hat, a bee and raccoon.

For Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo managed to have enough redstone for a music room. Tommy himself listen to Will play the most.

Tubbo was nervous about his gift to Techno, as Tommy gifted him a stone axe with self made design.

Tubbo, still focused on the Hybrid's discomfort, made his a pillow that looked like a ravanger. He gave a toothy grin and hugged the kid, keeping it close as he dozed off.

Tubbo will deny his tail ever wagging.

It wasn't until the next morning things made sense and seemed...bad.

Tubbo's horns hurt as Techno himself grunted in his discomfort, so they couldn't get things done.

Wilbur and Tommy got into another argument but this time about borrowing iron from the village which Phil helped Wilbur understand why not.

They were due for another hunting trip but with Technoblade and Tubbo out of commission, Phil had to go with them despite not wanting to leave the two.

Technoblade decided to stay on the couch instead of his newly added room and Tubbo remained near in case neither could handle the stairs.

When Tubbo blinked awake, it was to the noise of rushing wind and screams.

The ground shook under him as the house quaked, Pillagers

Tubbo quickly crawled over to Techno, too dizzy to stand and a shock went through his body.

The piglin Hybrid was much larger than their little couch that he slept on, Tubbo could place two hands on the older Hybrid's face and attempted to awake him.

"T..ech..no, we need to move, please wake up." Just as Tubbo stuttered that out, a booted foot came through the borrower's home, a pained and fearful cry escaped him as he missed a single red eye open.

Something wrapped around his waist, startling him as he looked up fearful at Techno.

The Hybrid looked pained as he began to expand higher through the ceiling, Tubbo watched in horrified fascination as the hand he was in curled closer to an eye.

"Tubbo, you know me, you know I'd never hurt you. Please hold on to me, I don't want you getting hurt." Tubbo's body went on autopilot as the hand was brought closer to the mon- the neck of Technoblade.

Tubbo held on as the body finally broke through the house, shielding him from danger.

A gleam brought Tubbo to attention, a light blue axe appeared in the giant's hand shimmering with unspoken enchantments. Tubbo had only heard of diamonds before, he was not disappointed.

Technoblade slashed through all his enemies, all the while keeping an eye and ear on Tubbo.

The beat of large wings alerted Tubbo to another person, Philza. The oldest coming from the air like an Angel of Death.

Tubbo could make out two people against his own throat, Tommy and Wilbur.

Unfortunately Phil didn't catch sight of him and the borrower was being grabbed in a tight fist, "Come on Mate! You're not prepared enough for this."

Technoblade's ear twitched and the scared pain Yelp, "Philza! Let go! You have Tubbo!"

The crushing weight was immediately gone as the kid took deep breaths barely hearing Techno's instructions, "Tubbo, I'm going to have to fight my way through. Hold on the best you can."

As that was said, the older hybrid began to lurch forward. Tubbo caught glimpses of Phil fighting alongside, but his focus was on not falling.

Not being ripped away wasn't part of this, a small glowing Fae creature tackled Tubbo and flew him away.

========

Tommy watched as his best friend got carried away by a Vex, "TUBBO!"

Wilbur flinched at the volume and Phil slightly stiffen but didn't falter in his fighting, Technoblade visibly looked around when it happened.

The small army was thinning down as the two watched out for the vex with the ram Hybrid, carefully taking out other vexes that went for Tommy or Wilbur.

Techno knew there was one left as bodies turned to emeralds, but the snow began to become blinding and Tubbo's scent getting fainter.

Phil had to physically drag him to the cabin, Wilbur had grew to his full size and started a fire and proceeded to hold Tommy.

Who was using all his energy in fighting Wilbur's hand, "I have to find Tubbo! Wilbur let go!"

The small being froze as Techno and Phil entered the space, "Don't worry Tommy, we'll find him. But we'll be useless in this weather."

Phil attempted to comfort, suddenly feeling too large compared to the child. The man can barely see his facial features, but even he could tell that he was terrified.

The silence was thick and tension high and the broken voice to an all too small child spoke up, "So... this is it? You...you really got us to trust you-"

Wilbur knew where this was going, "Tommy, Tommy no-*

"You shithead's are really fucked up! What next? Am I a pet? Did you honestly sell Tubbo!?" Tommy continued, the only one about to tell he's crying was Wilbur.

Techno didn't say anything as Tommy yelled, guilt too strong in his gut. He slowly turned to the window, the snow falling harshly as Tubbo got farther and farther.

They were getting Tubbo back.

========

Tubbo wasn't feeling well, his head throbbed because of his horns and he was cold. His cagemate wasn't much better so he can't complain.

Enderfae were quite rare on the market, Tubbo had only met one that he called The Captain. Well sorta, he was of Dragon variety.

Tubbo doesn't like to think what happened to him.

The Enderfae was crying, as the Pillager added their cage to his wall. A pillager outpost.

"HHey, it'll be okay, I'll find a way out of this. My... family will come for us." Tubbo tried to soothe knowing that he was making empty promises.

"Its okay, I've come to terms with this the moment I got captured. I hope my friends are okay. My name's Ranboo."

"I'm Tubbo."

========

The cabin was dark, Wilbur slept curled around a pillow which held a borrower.

A borrower who's trust they destroyed...one of two.

Upon closer inspection, you could see the tear stains down his face. Filling the larger three with guilt, sympathy, and rage.

Technoblade added more Regen and Health Potions to his pack, his old red cloak was taken from the closet and put on. A large netherite axe lay strapped to his back along with his trusty trident.

His bright golden crown lay on his head once again as he readjusted his armor.

He stood in full netherite armor, his hair lay hazardous around his head. Stiffening as hands began to braid it into a ponytail.

"Be careful Technoblade, Tubbo is fragile compared to me and Wil. He might be afraid, try not to hurt him and try not to get hurt." Philza warned.

Techno responded in a snort, He was the Blood God, of course he'll be careful

========

Technoblade isn't always the lovable dope he shows his family, he was ruthless, dangerous, and incredibly protective.

Everyone knew of him, but very few knew him.

When something happens to his family, he hunts down the threat and if it's killable...need he continue?

A pillager kidnapped his little brother, his pack, and expects not to be hunted down like prey? Pillagers are not known for brilliance.

"Technoblade?!" A familiar voice rang out behind him, a feral growl escaped him.

Dream, Sapnap and George ran up to him. All equipped in their own armour, oddly enough Dream was without his mask and tear stains on his face.

They hesitated, they each had seen Technoblade in his most feral and bloodthirsty before, so they new to be cautious.

Sapnap spoke in Piglin, "Techno? Did something happen to Wilbur and Phil?"

"New Pack, Pillagers took him!" It was no secret that Feral Technoblade couldn't speak common, but it was still a surprise each time someone heard it.

Sapnap nodded, "We'll help, Pillagers stole my Inferno. Work together?"

The trio watched as the Piglin Hybrid nodded in agreement, it had been a while since they teamed up. What better way than to save family.

~~~~~~~~

Tubbo and Ranboo talked quietly, trying to brighten their seemingly dark future.

Ranboo talked about what he remembered before being bought by his Haunting, then finally trusting them and calling them his.

Tubbo spoke of his Herd, how he met the older three and how he knew one was just giant. How he observed them long enough to trust them, and their names.

Both promising the other that if they live or die that the other tell their family.

Not that it was necessary, about three minutes later an alarm went off, alerting the occupant of intruders.

Hope filled the two as yells of fear and agony echoed through the building, scaring the Evoker that captured them.

The pillager didn't have time to cast a spell when a familiar face burst through the doorway.

Tubbo could see the rage in his red eyes, but his happiness clouded judgement.

"Techno!"

For a moment, his rage cleared only for it to return full force at the Evoker.

Not long after that, he was struck down and Technoblade gently took the cage off the wall. He noticed the Enderfae and looked around for others.

His clawed hand wrapped around the small cage at the sight of small bones and jarred tiny insides, the only other living thing in the room was a small zombie Piglin hybrid in a jar next to the taxidermy book.

He took the jar and opened it, grabbed the child and opened Tubbo's cage and passed them to him.

As the building began to burn, Technoblade left just as fast as he arrived.

Tubbo watched as Ranboo called out to three individuals, he recognized one being a Mushroom hybrid but not the other two.

The baby zombie Piglin Hybrid curled next to him, both shivered just realizing the cold.

The bandana wearing man looked to Technoblade, "I can carry them if you want, keep them warm. You did agree to let us spend the night at your place."

He didn't understand the snorts and grunts but it seemed like the baby did because he copied.

That brought a soft smile to the bandana boy and Technoblade, the later grinned at Tubbo.

Soon they were on the move again. Tubbo and Ranboo huddled the baby Piglin, more relieved than before that they were saved.

========

Tommy hadn't eaten anything since Tubbo was taken, he hadn't interacted nor did he call Wilbur name and claim he was bald.

The two sizeshifter knew deep down that he wouldn't get better unless Tubbo was with them again.

The front door swung open revealing a steaming Sapnap holding something against his chest with the protective determination that was only in reserve for his friends and family.

Soon the rest of Dream Team and Technoblade entered the cabin, they were covered in soot smudges and looked exhausted.

Phil could see Tommy stiffen and move further from the door but settled on Technoblade, "Tubbo?"

Sapnap moved his arms to reveal a small cage with three small beings inside, one Phil recognized immediately.

"Tubbo!" Philza approached the younger man, who backed away at the same time as Ranboo flinched.

But the old man was patient, and the cage was released again, this time Tubbo was halfway through the door and jumping into Phil's hands.

"Hi Phil! Where's Tommy!?" Tubbo looked exhausted as well.

As gently as well as fast as he could, Phil brought his hands on the table so Tubbo could run to Tommy.

"Tubbo!"

"Tommy!"

The duo hugged until Tubbo passed out and caused a mass panic from everyone but Ranboo.

It wasn't ideal, but it was a new beginning for the clingyduo.

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fandom-monium · 3 years

Text

Alive Together - Day 1

Summary: Welcome to the Monsterpocalypse. You’re a lone wanderer trying to survive. Until you meet Joel Dawson and Boy.

WC: 4k

Tag/Warnings: light themes of death and grief?? Cursing but minimal. Slow burn. Enemies to friends to lovers?

AN: MEET CUTE? NO. MEET UGLY.

(Entry 2#3#)

Hungry. I have nothing else to report today except that I, (Your Name), am starving. Grilled spiders and roasted centipedes are starting to get old.

I've mentioned it before and I'll do it again, but I miss home cooked meals. Even Dad's shoddy attempts at recreating Mom's recipes. The last time I think was… nevermind.

It hurts; I barely remember the last time I had dinner with Dad, much less Mom, flashes of the memories I have left blurring. Probably from the tears. I used to cry at the slightest thought of Mom and then Dad. Now my heart clenches whenever I try because I shouldn't have to try to remember my own family. Believe it or not, it’s progress.

Maybe it's my fault. I hadn't bothered to snag any mementos that reminded me of them before fleeing the bunker, like an album or something. There weren't many personal items that they'd given me, now that I think about it. Too much clutter, the Captain said.

Or maybe it's the lack of consistent stimulus to my brain. I can't read as much as I'd like to, mainly because it's too dangerous to be distracted (constant vigilance is an important virtue in this world, if you hadn’t noticed). Most books that I've stumbled across (literally, I tripped over a hill of hardcovers. Not fun. Very painful) were either tattered or worn beyond comprehension, destroyed by rain or monster attacks.

Speaking of, my stomach grumbled. I need to start hunting before it gets dark... and before I attract another monster to myself. Again.

-(Your Name) (Your Last Name)

Day 1 - First Impressions

You shut the journal as an ominous roar thunders in the distance. Heart in your throat, you’re already on your feet, shoving the book into your pack and gathering the rest of your things. Once you’re certain there’s no trace left of you on the roof, you gaze at the neighborhood below, shielding your eyes as you scan for signs of alerted monsters.

Greenery and ruins go on for miles, unperturbed.

It’s high noon, rays of sunlight seeping through the clouds and warming your exposed skin. A gust of wind brushes your face and hair, and you suppress a smile. It’s not everyday the weather is this nice, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d relish in it.

Good thing you do know better.

You trace your path to the hills. The town is a maze of torn down buildings and overgrowth, winding roads littered with abandoned houses and wrecked vehicles, and, of course, hidden monsters. There’s only a couple hours before nightfall, and you’re far from your destination.

Better start walking. You’ve wasted enough time.

You climb down the side of the dilapidated house, dropping to the ground with a thump. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since the start of the apocalypse, it’s that residential areas harbored the most monsters, aside from the cities. Too many alcoves perfect for nesting. It’s safer away from the old world.

Safer, not safe.

You keep to the shadows, avoiding the open whenever you can despite the barren streets, darting between urban remnants. Your heart eventually settles as you scan your surroundings like anything and everything will pounce on you the second you let your guard down. By the time you cross the residential area and asphalt roads bleed into dry fields (from years of neglect, you somberly note), the sun has crept out from behind the clouds and the sky is clear blue.

You find a barn after hours of trudging through shrubs and your sore feet. It looms at the top of the hill leading to a dense forest, tall enough that as you step into its shadow it blocks out the sun. Walking closer, you tense as you scrutinize the place, eyes combing over the immediate vicinity.

Nothing. Nothing moves or breathes. You don’t see or hear a peep. Not from the barn or the woods beyond. It’s completely isolated from the nearby town, a perfect fort.

Or a nest.

You huff; shit like this has happened one too many times and you’d be a fool if you haven’t learnt your lesson by now. You pull out your javelin and approach with caution, leaves and grass crunching under your boots as you take in the chipped paint and boarded up windows, steadily making your way around the decrepit building. You frown at the clear deterioration, unable to spot any visible breaches.

Reaching the front of the barn, you gaze warily at the lone entrance. Tall doors ajar, old boards are still nailed across the slim gap or hanging precariously. As if someone or something pried them off, busted through.

In or out, you can’t tell.

For a moment, you weigh your options. You doubt the place had anything to offer, pillaged long before you stumbled upon it. Hell, there’s probably a monster nesting somewhere inside, or a bunch of monster eggs.

But you need food, supplies, rest. Are you willing to risk your life on the small chance this rickety barn can provide those things?

You stare down the the opening and it stares back, deceptively innocent. But it’s mocking you, you can hear it. Just daring you to walk away.

You shuffle on aching feet, making your clothes rub against your sweaty skin.

As if on cue, your stomach growls.

Groaning, you adjust your grip on the spear before ducking inside.

You let your eyes adjust to the dark interior. Light seeps through the rotted ceiling and cracks from the boarded windows, enough that you don’t need a flashlight to see the place is deserted. You glance around the huge room, javelin ready as you wait with bated breath, ears straining to hear over your pounding heartbeat.

Nothing. You don’t hear anything, except the trees rustling outside. Nothing shifts or darts out of sight. No signs of life, not even eggs (that you can see).

It doesn’t mean you're clear, but it’s a start.

Biting your lip, you take a careful step, and another and another, your eyes sweeping the room as you tread over straw and debris. You pause mid-step when you catch a pulley system attached to the ceiling. It’s dark, but you recognize its outline. Frowning, you trace its small, thin woven ropes as they split in different directions against the ceiling and walls, hitting and crossing the floor until they disappear under a thick layer of hay.

You raise your foot, gently kicking away the straw. You step back.

A net. A decent sized one by the width of the patch of hay.

You sigh, shoulders dropping in relief. If you hadn’t been cautious you’d never have noticed it.

You make your rounds quickly as you check for resources. At this point, it’s muscle memory for you as you move through the room with silent purpose, efficient and controlled. You dig through every storage unit, every container, pulling open cabinets and drawers, tearing through the floor with precision as you toss aside rusted tools and empty cans, a pit burning in your stomach. You snarl, throwing down another torn rag. It hits the floor with a thud.

You knew this would happen. You know the chances, but after all this time you still feel the crushing disappointment? You let out a shaky breath, nostrils flaring as you attempt to quell your frustration.

You can practically hear your mother snap at you. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you, (Your Nickname), unless you want to die, her stern voice echoes. You unclench your teeth with a sigh.

It doesn’t take long, your anger simmering down with each exhale, and when you’re sure you’re calm enough, you resume your initial task: scavenging the barn. Is it a waste of time and energy? Yes. Will you find anything useful? Unlikely. Are you going to try anyway?

You head for the stairs to the hayloft. Even if there seems to be nothing left, you need to make sure.

A few minutes later, you're sifting through another trunk when a yelp cuts across the dusty air, followed by the shrill sound of grinding metal. You startle, hissing as you bang your head against the trunk lid. Pushing down the throbbing pain, you snatch your spear and clamber down the stairs, stumbling forward as your eyes darting around the dust drifting in the air. Something barks over you and you look up.

Huh. Did not expect that.

You were prepared for a snarling, limb crushing insect. Or maybe a triple jawed mammal. Even a mega-pig. You’ve seen enough of those and managed.

But a dog? More specifically, a dog caught in the net you barely avoided. It’s tangled in the ropes suspended just above your head, gently swaying. It seems it does not care for the swinging because it starts barking again, louder and more urgent than before.

“Ah, poor doggy,” you croon, lowering your weapon. To your surprise, the dog stops and jerks to face you, its dark eyes gleaming in the shadows. You eye the seemingly calm animal. “Now, how did you get here? Were you following me?”

The dog whines, squirming in a sad attempt to escape. Your lips quirk up. Aside from the occasional bird, you haven’t seen a normal animal in what feels like forever, much less a dog. Most regular animals were consumed by monsters or by people for food.

Food. You haven’t eaten.

You study the dog; its dark brown fur, sleek and short, its body small⎼almost medium sized, with pointed ears and a long snout. And by the way it looks at you, it has some intelligence.

Your stomach grumbles, and the creature cocks its head at you, ears forward.

Shit.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” you grimace at the dog, adjusting your hold before aiming the tip at it. “It’s nothing personal, okay? I’m hungry, and you’re the first thing I’ve seen that hasn’t tried to kill me in a while.”

Which isn’t a lie. Hunting is crazy difficult these days. But you swallow as your eyes meet, its stare unwavering like you aren’t pointing a weapon at his little body. Just one motion and you could end its life painlessly (lucky bastard), but your knuckles go white and you grip falters. Why are you hesitating now?

The dog, as if sensing your battle, barks again, this time more composed than panicked, as if trying to communicate with you. You’re grateful you can’t speak Dog. It’s probably saying something like ‘No, you’re better than this’ or ‘Please don’t do this’ or⎼

“Put him down!”

Or that.

Dear Aimee,

Guess what?

I got a dog! And he’s the coolest, his name is Boy.

He saved my life from a giant frog in a pool who tried to eat me with his tongue, and then we hung out in his bus! Man, do we make a great team. We found out that we have a ton in common too. I feel like we can talk about anything.

You gotta see us out here; we’re like this iconic duo. I don’t know, feels like when we’re together, we’re unstoppable.

“Right, Boy? Boy?” Joel glances at his side, doing a double take. The dog’s gone. His shoulders slump, “Of course, the first friend I’ve made outside and he leaves me. Sounds about right.”

He didn’t think he could gain and lose a friend within the span of two days. This has to be some kind of record.

He jerks when he hears Boy’s faint barking, guiding him as he drags himself back to the old barn they just passed. For good reasons. The decaying barn looks like it’s in need of a new contractor and a paint job… or three. And an exterminator.

God, the surface is terrifying.

Gulping down his dread, Joel crouches to peer through the gaping hole in the wall. This must be where Boy came through. “Whatcha got there?”

The barking ceases, and so does Joel’s heart.

You stand in the dark like an apparition, back turned to him so he can’t make out your features. Your attention is fixed on the shadowed lump hanging over you, and while it’s dark and he doesn’t have a good vantage point, Joel’s mouth goes dry as he seeks out Boy.

Boy woofs again, and Joel’s heart drops. You step closer to the lump.

For a split second, he sees a flash of his mother’s face, her tears streaming down her cheeks.

He doesn’t think; no thoughts, head empty. Blood roars in his ears. His hands tremble. But he doesn’t hesitate, ripping the makeshift crossbow from his back as he scrambles under the opening.

“Put him down!”

He’s not entirely sure what he expects. He’s read enough comic books to understand the situation; the hero drops in to save damsel in distress then proceeds to demolish the bad guys. Technically, he has the upper-hand here. Right?

But realization slams into him. It knocks the air out of him, and he forgets to breathe.

He shouldn’t have barged in like an idiot. He isn’t a hero. He’s nothing like the superheroes in comics and movies and graphic novels. He doesn’t have super strength or speed or highly advanced tech and he sure as hell is not a genius.

What he does have: a freezing problem.

He’s already lost feeling in his hands, and he almost drops the weapon as you look over your shoulder at him.

On the other hand, you have a pretty clear idea before you face your captor (seeing him now, can you even consider him that?). With the apocalypse, governments crumbled with ease along with laws and morals, so it’d make sense for people to disregard them. You’ve met quite a few… characters, and you’ve chalked it up to these main categories; garbage thieves, sleazy scavengers, and shitty thugs.

In short, humans are selfish creatures. Prepare for the worst.

You’ve thrown down, fought dirty, bartered with them all and still managed to come out on top, the scars across your body a constant reminder. Nothing surprises you at this point.

A fumbling boy though? You mask your amusement, raising an eyebrow as you take him in. The guy, tall and disheveled, blocks the only exit out of this godforsaken place, his red jacket rumpled and dusty like he’s fallen one too many times. However, what nearly sends you is, as he steps further into the light, you bite your lip, his eyes round and small lips pressed together as the crossbow quakes in his hands.

Who let this puppy out of their sight?

“Listen, buddy,” You finally speak, making Joel flinch. Your eyes narrow as his fingers jerk on the trigger. That’s not good. “If you’re gonna point that thing at me, you better know how to use it.”

He sucks in air, clearing his throat as his eyes dart between Boy and you. He cringes when his voice comes out octaves higher than he expected, “Let Boy go.”

“’Boy’?” You glance up, your weapon still raised at the squirming little fellow. “Oh, you mean Dinner?”

“You were gonna eat him?”

You shrug. “Maybe. Depends how this goes.”

“Okay,” Joel swallows, a futile attempt to keep his tone even as nausea sprouts in him. You plan to eat Boy? How can someone eat something so cute? “Let him go, and we’ll leave you alone. How ‘bout that?”

Beads of sweat drip down his temple as his breaths come out shuddered. He’s not used to this; he’s gone from being the chef of his colony to making demands, negotiating with a possible psycho. He never trained for this! Well, he’d never been trained, period.

What if he says the wrong thing and sets you off, hurting Boy in the process? He might faint⎼no⎼he will faint. He doesn’t think his heart can handle losing more people… or animals. How is he supposed to save Boy? His fingers twitch against the trigger.

You don’t miss it.

“I don't know about that,” You reply, studying him. His hands tremble as they clutch the weapon. He may not be a scavenger or a thief, but that just makes him all the more unpredictable. Goons, you’d expect them to shoot first, ask questions later, but the fact this guy is making an effort to talk? You want to know his angle, his intentions.

Whether it’s good or bad.

“I’m hungry. It’s going to be dark soon, and Boy here,” You jerk your head at the canine, “was unlucky enough to fall into this ol’ trap.”

You watch, withholding a sneer as emotions and thoughts flit across Joel’s face like an open book. It seems a lightbulb goes off because he looks back at you, eyes wide and hopeful. “You want food? I have some in my backpack. If I give it to you, you let him go?”

He tries not to squirm, the little courage he has waning as your eyes bore into him.

“…Put the crossbow and the bag down. Slowly.”

“You too.” You tilt your head curiously as Joel stutters, “Your spear⎼I mean, if you could stop pointing it at my dog. Please.”

Your brows shoot up. Since the moment he entered⎼wait⎼floundered in here, he could not have made it more obvious that he has no idea what he’s doing. If it wasn’t the way he carried that exposed him, it was definitely his facial expressions, and if not his face, you can hear it trickle through the cracks in his voice. Yet despite how unfair the situation is for him, he’s trying to cover his terror. Failing miserably but trying. All for this cute, little doggy.

And he said please. You ignore the way it warmed you, his tone so…. genuine.

Manners, sincere or not, in the face of danger? You have to respect that.

“It’s a javelin, actually, but I agree to your terms.” Your grip slackens. He might be a wimp, but you have to give it to him. He’s got balls.

A flicker of relief crosses his face, and you both comply with your instructions. In spite of his obvious fear, you roll your eyes as he unzips his bag unnecessarily slower than you meant him to, throwing you a look.

On second thought, he’s either really brave or really stupid. It’s fifty-fifty at this point.

Joel pulls out an aluminum can. It glints in the light as he holds it up and tosses it to you. You catch it easily, inspecting it in your hands.

“Now will you let my dog go⎼Boy!” His scream tears through the barn.

You’re already composed. Uncoiling like a snake, you seize your spear and swing, all in one motion. He lunges for you, but you’re too far. He hits the ground.

Groaning in pain, he berates himself. He should have known; they had no reason to trust each other, so of course this stranger, this psycho, would betray him. He tries to brush it off, the false sense of security dissipating, the relief replaced with crushing betrayal and horror.

This is what the surface is like? His chest clenches. He can’t breath, but this isn’t like when he freezes up on a monster. At least, not those monsters. This is worse. So much worse.

The net rips, then a pained grunt. Joel shields his eyes, burying his face in his hands as tears trail down his dirt-smudged cheeks. His heart thunders in his ears as he prepares for the inescapable sound of Boy’s pained yelps, the squelch of metal piercing flesh. He chokes down a sob.

He only knew Boy for less than two days, but within that timespan he bared his soul to the animal. He probably knew him better than his own colony. In the short time they had together, he became his best friend⎼

Okay, ew. What is licking him?

“Boy?” Joel groans, flinching away as the dog bombards him with wet kisses. “Wait, you’re not dead?”

You step into the light, javelin in hand as you snort, “Of course not. Did you think I was gonna kill him?”

Yes. Joel sits up and cradles Boy to his chest, gawking at you.

You glare at him, almost offended. “I’m not a monster.”

No. No you are not.

Decked in a faded blue jacket, you stand relaxed, spear perched over your shoulder (or a jav⎼java-something). Your eyes glint in the sunlight like steel, hard and piercing, with dark circles under them. You watch him with a slight frown. And like him, there’s smudges of dirt on your face and clothes, but you manage to make it look cool and purposeful.

You don’t look like a monster, but you kind of acted like one. Joel is conflicted.

He opens his mouth to respond, but he's not sure what to say in this situation, overwhelmed by a cocktail of emotions that he’s still coming down from. Before he conjures an appropriate response (is there even one?), you're shouldering your backpack and slipping through the gap. Joel rushes to his feet. “Hey, wait!”

You continue up the hill, not bothering to turn to him as you purse your lips. “Oh. You’re still here.”

“Yeah, I’m ‘still here’! You held my dog hostage; kind of hard to get over,” he grumbles, panting as he trudges after you with Boy at his heels. You’re faster than you look. “So⎼uh⎼where you heading?”

“Away.”

He nods almost sage-like, wringing his hands together. “Cool, cool. So mysterious,” He pauses, inhaling deeply. His voice, now deeper and a bit more relaxed, comes in a rush as he asks, “Is there any chance we could go with you?”

You freeze, and Joel almost crashes into your back. You whirl around and suddenly you’re faced to face, but you’re too astonished by his question to care that he’s in your personal bubble.

His breathes come in heaves. His eyes are big and round, brown and bright with… hope?

It occurs to you that this guy, who hasn’t even given you his name, is a loser. A hopeful, naive loser.

And it’s for that reason you come to a decision⎼you’ll entertain him.

“Where are you going?”

“West,” Joel’s shoulders hunch, his voice self-assured as he adds, “to the coast.”

Yeah... fuck that.

You turn to walk away. “No.”

“Wait!”

You glower at him, stopping him in his tracks. “Dude, we got what we wanted. I got food, you got your dog. End of transaction.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, like he’s debating how far he can test you. He seems to think better of it as his shoulders sag and he caves, “Fine, I’ll head west without you. I can do it.” The last part he says more to himself before turning on his heel, starting in the direction opposite of you.

You nod. This is good, for the both of you. And safer, you tell yourself as you turn to begin your trek again. You’re two strangers in the apocalypse; you don’t know who he is, where he’s been, and, from your experience, it’s best to travel alone. It’s inconspicuous, efficient and⎼

Where the hell is he going?

You halt, squinting as you watch him hike away from the west coast. “Hey!”

He looks at you over his shoulder, his face surprised but expectant. Hopeful. He reminds you of a puppy being called over by their owner.

He thinks you’re caving into him.

Well, jokes on you, loser. You raise an eyebrow, “You know that’s not West, right?”

“Oh,” Joel’s eyes widen, clearing his throat. Boy woofs and he shoots him a withered look, altering his trajectory. “I knew that.”

“That’s not West either.”

He switches directions again.

You shake your head. “No.“

And again.

“Nope.”

Joel’s face reddens, unable to meet your eyes as he stops trying so he doesn’t further humiliate himself.

You make your way over to him, rolling your eyes. He seems to make you do that a lot. “Okay, how much food you got on you?”

“Enough to last me a week? Why⎼”

That’s all you needed to hear.

“Then it’s settled,” You decide, clapping him on the shoulder. He winces. “You share your rations with me, and I’ll help you get to the West coast.”

He blinks, clearly taken aback as you begin your trek once again, gesturing him to follow you. You feel his eyes on your back. “Really?”

“Really. You are a food source. Also I’m pretty sure you’d die before getting halfway.” You add, unabashed.

He frowns, unsure whether to be grateful or not. He decides on the latter. “Oh…thanks anyway?”

“You're really not from around here, are you?” You pause, looking back at him.

He scratches the back of his neck. “No. Is it that obvious?”

“Painfully. So free advice,” You, with a hand on your hip and tone clipped, gesture up and down at his⎼well⎼everything. “Try not to let anyone know you’re a newb. Might keep you alive.” With that, you start heading West, not bothering to see if he’s comprehended the note you bestowed on him.

Joel glances down at himself before trailing after you. “Good to know.”

AN: I want to make it clear: I would never eat a dog, you would never eat a dog, no one would ever eat. A. Dog. That was a joke for this part 1. I even wrote emphasis on your character’s hesitation. It’s just that this is the apocalypse, so it’s safe to assume that survivors are driven into corners, desperate and have to make some hard choices.

The end dialogue is reference to @teenwolffanclub-me TW rewrite bc i love it and them so if you like Dylan O’ Brien and Stiles pls read their shit. <333

This part is a slow starter, but I don’t want to rush this, your intro and your development. But, now that you’ve finally met, hopefully the rest won’t seem any slower than the beginning.

I’ve never wrote for a lone survivor kind of character before. I hope you enjoyed the intro nonetheless!

I think I’ll forgo the 7 parts idea, but that’s a goal.

Part 2 in progress.

Also, how to get a beta reader??

#joel dawson x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #joel dawson #love and monsters #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brian imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #joel dawson x you #joel dawson x y/n #love and monsters x reader #reader insert

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bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

Soft boy Jean trying to bake a cake for his s/o but he stuffs it up and tries to hide it, but in the end his s/o helps him remake the cake together

“make a wish”

paring: jean kirshctein x female reader

cw: kissing, language, fluff

word count: 1700+

a/n: i wrote this at 2am, i need sleep but we move, if i don’t wake up for my lesson then i’m fucked (morning me tell me if i do wake up on time right here - i woke up on time but im lying in bed) hope you liked it i needed to write some attack on titan shit and jean’s is my fave

summary: in which jean finds out it’s your birthday and decides to make a surprise cake, with limited resources, he tries but ultimately it turns into you finding out, in your oblivious state you end up helping him make a cake for yourself

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

Your voice was cold as you spoke to your class, you were all nearing the end of the training corps. It had taken a toll on a lot of people, but you had remained strong and resilient to what would occur.

You knew you had worked hard enough to reach the top ten, but you were always going to join the survey corps. You would kill the titans and even to your friend Jean’s reluctance you would give your life defeating them all.

What nobody had really expected was to see Sasha smiling as she walked towards the group that you would call your friends. She had a piece of paper in her hand and you were confused at the girl. She was never normally this happy after training she was always bitey for food so what had made her go all nice.

“I finally found it Y/n.” You tilted your head in confusion as Jean looked between the two of you. “Y/n, your birthday’s in two days, why didn’t you tell us?”

You rolled your eyes, “I just don’t think birthdays mean that much in the grand scheme of things.”

“But cake.” Sasha seemed more upset about the lack of food than anything else. You rolled your eyes walking back to the garrison, you wanted clean clothes due to the sweat that encased your current clothes.

Jean’s obvious crush for you was known, they watched him as he admired you walking away. He didn’t care if you were sweaty you were still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Even with his obvious flirting you were oblivious still believing the boy had feelings for Mikasa.

“I’m making her a cake.” Marco looked at the boy confused.

“You do realise you don’t know how to bake.” Connie spoke out loud what Marco and everybody else had been thinking.

“I’ll work something out.” Sasha seemed to be the only happy one as Mikasa hadn’t paid attention only irritating Eren to make sure he didn’t get too dirty.

Later on, after everybody had had dinner, Jean snuck out he knew how to bake a cake, he’d watched his mother, how hard could it actually be?

Careful of not waking anybody up, he creeped outside knowing where the kitchens were. He prayed there was everything he needed not wanting to have to try and found it anywhere. He walked towards the building, seeing a battered canteen it was silent and hopefully nobody would catch him.

He rolled his sleeves having still worn the uniform they were made to wear, as he got to work trying to remember what his mother had done many years ago. It wasn’t working as he put it to bake he sat on the counter wondering if he had done it right, he had all the ingredients but having a theory and no practically experience was a recipe for disaster.

Once the cake had finished he looked at the sunken cake already knowing it had failed, he had hope that it might’ve just sunk and tasted better, it’s what’s on the inside that counts, kept going through his head.

His mother would know what to do, he cut into it taking a bite before instantly spitting it into the bin. Not only having wasted the ingredients on a shitty cake but he had no idea how to make you something to show his feelings.

He signed lowering his head before he heard a cough. You were standing in front of him, his eyes widened as he removed his hands from his face. “Y/n what are y...you doing here.”

You always thought his stuttering was cute, it happened a lot around you, but you always assumed it was because Mikasa was nearby. The embarrassment Jean felt was heavy and you could sense it from a mile away. He tried hiding the cake, but you had easily spotted it as soon as he covered it with a tea towel.

“I heard Sasha in her sleep talk about you making a cake, I wanted to help.” You cheerily smiled at the boy; you didn’t know who it was for, but you assumed his mother due to visiting the Trost District in a couple days.

Jean had a sense of relief wash over him, at least you didn’t hear the frustration he had. A small brush crept along his face as you came closer leaning against the counter taking the same fork he had used to eat the cake. You cut a bit with the side before eating it, “that’s fucking gross.”

He laughed as you went to go spit it out, “what the fuck did you put in it?”

“I...i just remembered what my mother did.” He spoke out the ingredients and how much he put in it before you heard the last part. “...and about 200grams of sugar.”

You looked at the container that held the ‘sugar’ opening it before dipping your finger in it, you tasted it the salt making your mouth scrunch up. He tilted his head confused, before you bought a different finger into the salt bringing it to his mouth.

“Taste it then.” You mutter, he obeyed opening his mouth as he sucked on your finger, it would’ve been flirty if his face didn’t instantly turn sour.

“I added 200grams of salt.” You nod laughing.

“Come on let’s bake another one.” You washed your hands getting rid of both your saliva’s face your fingers.

Setting out the ingredients you showed him how to make a cake your mother had taught you how to make. She had always wanted you to marry someone from the inner walls but instead you turned and signed up for the training corps.

Making Jean help you along the way to make sure he was a part of it, you showed him how each part did different things. He listened intensively asking questions when needed and doing what he was told.

It finally went into the over as you saw some icing on the side, something somebody probably left by accident. You passed it to Jean, “write a message on top, I’m sure your mother will love it.”

“My mother?” Jean’s face fell in confusion.

“Oh, I assumed it was for her.” He looks down as he doesn’t say anything.

You didn’t know what to say to him, he was silent thinking hard, you noticed how his face would scrunch up or how a blush would erupt. He was probably thinking about Mikasa to even care about you.

You had been licking the spatula and Jean stared imagining so many lewd thoughts he wanted you and needed a way to confess properly.

The timer went off as you yawned, grabbing the cake you both waited for it to cool before he looks at you intensively.

“Turn around.” You knit your eyebrows before doing so.

You heard as he signed before he touched your shoulder, you turned back around seeing Jean holding the cake, the icing writing a message you had never expected.

‘happy birthday y/n

i love you

jean’

It was simple and caring, his name barley fitting on the cake but he had tried. He had been thinking all along about what to put on the cake before realising he should just admit he liked you.

The love part was true as well and not realising he had wrote it his face went into a heavy blush. “Y...you love me.”

You were the one stuttering now, Jean put the cake down, “I do.”

“I thought you liked Mikasa.”

“It was a crush that I got over as soon as i saw you.” He admitted, he looked directly at you as you tried to not meet eye contact.

A silence grew as you didn’t know what to say the words finally falling from your lips, “i love you too.”

That’s all he needed to hear to walk towards you bringing you closer to his body, he cupped your face, your breathing heavy at the excitement you were feeling. Your hands went to cup his nodding to tell him to go for it. His lips attached to yours, the taste of the batter lingered in your mouth.

He pushed you against the countertop, his hands moving from your face as it moved to your legs lifting you onto the counter top. Your heights becoming the same, your hands remained on his face bringing him closer the way you moaned making his tongue travel inside of your mouth. Spit and saliva mixed as you craved more, his hands on your back making you arch forward.

He wanted your body on his own and as the kiss deepened, your breathing became heavier, the consistent kisses between trying to get air before going at it again with the long passionate kisses were repetitive. You didn’t want it to stop, but as your breathing got heavier he finally let go. You were both out of breath having not kissed someone in a while.

The kiss had felt new almost as if it was long awaited, he watched and admired your breathless state, your dishevelled hair and tired eyes. “Let’s have some cake.”

You nodded as you remained sitting on the counter top, you had already put everything away and washed up the only thing left being the forks you would use to eat the cake. He held the cake standing in front of you, he brought a box of matches out. “I haven’t got a candle.”

You laugh as he lit the match putting it up to your face, “make a wish.” You blow softly as he feels your breath on his finger, cutting up some pieces he brings it to you, smiling as he eats the cake you both made.

“Now this is a cake.” You laugh as his salt cake had gone in the bins. You both had been relatively quiet so didn’t expect anybody to come in.

“What’d you wish for?” Jean asks after finishing the cake, it had been a small cake so you both ate it easily without any hesitation. Knowing you’d end up losing it from training anyway.

You both walked outside watching the moon, Jean’s hand creeping into your own as you entangled your fingers together. He smiles as you finally answered, “my wish already happened.”

He understood as you smiled up at the boy, you gave him a small kiss on his lips, filled with happiness of a future. He smiled back walking you back to your room, he’d never admit it, but this was probably the best nights of his life. He had finally gotten you and it was as if everything had fit into place, you were together and not even the Titans could ruin that for you.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alaina-rose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

Text

Melting Wax, Crawling Vines: Part 4 (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: mild cursing, paranoia/anxiety

Word Count: 3062

We love exposition in this house

Vincent had only seen you for a few moments. You'd been carried in by his brother, Bo. He'd placed you on the couch, and, naturally, Vincent had peaked out from upstairs to investigate. He thought that perhaps you were someone to add to their collection, or a new toy for Bo to mess with. Bo, usually, kept the pretty ones like yourself to himself. His twin was good at charm, good at smooth talking almost anyone. And he was good at not caring about whether or not they wanted to be kept. When he saw the way he'd laid your head carefully back on the pillow, a million thoughts were going through his head.

Bo usually took any outsiders to the basement underneath the auto shop. But here you were, being gingerly placed on their living room couch. He reached for one of the knives at his hip just before Bo was heading straight for him. He relaxed his hand, letting it sink back into the hilt. Bo had explained quickly and quietly.

They were going to keep you for him . Vincent had stared at him with one blue eye, gratitude and surprise filling it. Never before, not even technically with the wax figures, had they had someone who was for him. The wax town was their mothers dream.

He'd stared at you, peeking around the corner to take in your unconscious form. You had piqued his interest completely, even if he knew your sleeping form would soon contort into horror and screaming. That the peace would leave your features the second you realized they didn't intend on letting you leave Ambrose.

Bo had to snap in his face to make sure he was listening, make sure that he understood that you were going to be his teacher. Not one of his wax figures. He'd nodded. He wasn't stupid, but his brother seemed to forget that sometimes. Bo hadn't had time to explain much more, as you'd started to stir.

"Go on, get. Stay out of sight." Bo told him, and Vincent had reluctantly retreated out of sight and back down to the depths of his work shop. As he returned to the wax figure in the center of his room, his head was now filled with distracting noise as he tried to force himself to focus. He wanted to know more about you. You were the only new face that he would see and not become wax. The mysterious figure laying on their couch.

Eventually, he found himself listening in the middle of the hallway, leaning against the wall as he heard your voice filter through the house. He listened to your story, finding that it didn't sound too different than something their victims would describe. But that one thing you'd said struck him, and he knew it probably struck his brothers just the same. I should've killed that sonovabitch , you'd said. The Sinclair brothers had long ago made their peace with what happened inside of this town. Perhaps, eventually, you would be able to make peace with it too with an attitude like that. It could take awhile, but the brothers would have time. However, when you agreed to stay, a strange feeling of relief had crept into his chest and he'd finally been able to force himself back down to his workshop.

***

It didn't take long for the three of you to part ways. You'd called your apartment complex, letting the woman that worked the front desk know that someone was going to pick up your storage unit for you. When she'd asked why, you'd told her that you just didn't feel comfortable parting with it for an entire night. When she tried to insist that it'd be safe, you cut her off and told her to expect him. You didn't mean to be rude, but you hardly had the patience to argue with her knowing that your ex could be there any minute. Lester had offered to take the longer drive, as he'd said he knew where the town was anyways. So, it was up to you to show Bo where you'd left your car.

You leaned with your head against the window of the tow-truck, secretly relieved that Lester hadn't suggested you come to get the unit with him. You wouldn't be able to stomach the anxiety that trip would've induced, and it was nice to ride in a car that smelled like motor oil and grease instead of roadkill. Bo smoked, one hand resting out the window and the other on the wheel as the Louisiana heat competed with the a/c inside the tow truck. You looked over, watching as Bo brought the cigarette to his lips. He looked over at you, catching your stare and smiling to himself. You looked away, shyness and embarrassment filling you from having been caught.

"So," Bo started. He paused for a moment. "This might be a little too much to ask, and I don't mean to offend." You turned your head back to him, arching a brow to show that you were listening. "Which one of you was older?" He asked, and you stared at him in confusion for a moment before you realized what he was asking. It wasn't what you were expecting, you'd give him that. Given his flirting nature, you'd expected a much different question. Instead, you ran a hand through your hair and softly said,

"She was." You smiled to yourself for a moment, turning to look out the windshield before you added, "By ten minutes. She always used to joke about having to wait for me for everything." And Bo smiled at that as well. You watched him take another drag of the cigarette, changing his grip on the wheel, before he said,

"I'm the oldest," And you found yourself looking at him over in surprise. You didn't know he had any siblings. Well, you figured you could blame that on the fact that you'd only met him that day. "Born less than a minute before my brother, Vincent." And your eyebrows shot up. The news that he had siblings and that he was a twin surprised you.

"I didn't see him back at the house." You commented, trailing off. You wondered when you'd get to meet him, and hoped he wouldn't mind your intrusion. You were going to be staying with them, after all.

"Oh, he's just shy. Stays mostly to himself." He said, and you nodded. But the news didn't stop you from biting at your lip. You didn't want to cause any waves between the brothers, especially because you were sure that Bo hadn't asked Vincent before he offered to let you stay. You bit at your thumb, and Bo looked over to arch a brow at you. You pulled it from you mouth, realizing that he must've noticed the anxious habit. His brow lift was questioning, and you could guess what he wanted to know.

"Vincent," You paused. "Vincent won't mind me staying with you, will he?" You asked, and you watched the way he broke out into a grin. He laughed to himself, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Is that what you're worried about? No, no. Vincent won't mind a bit. Having someone as pretty as you around the house? He won't mind at all." He said, and you had to turn away to hide the smile creeping up your face. You shook your head lightly, choosing to ignore his flirting remarks. You looked out, pointing down the road. You didn't even need to say anything, as Bo was already remarking, "I see it." And stopping in the road before making a three point turn. You were relieved from the sight of your car, and to see that it hadn't been stripped or broken into.

You'd gotten out with the intent to help Bo, but, just like Lester, you thought you were slowing him down if anything. Eventually, you just ended up sitting on the hood of your car and eating a bag of chips that you'd packed for the ride. You offered him some, and he took off his cap to wipe his brow before he took the bag. He'd hooked your car up, and now all he needed to do was lift it to tow it back to Ambrose. He chewed for a moment, before he said,

"So, Lester told me you teach sign language, right?" And you were quick to nod. That you did. You wondered where this was going, but Bo didn't keep you in suspense. He was just like Lester in the way that he wasn't one for long silences. "Well, my brother, he," He rubbed his face, as if he might not know how to put this. Or maybe he was debating how much he should tell you. "He's got a facial deformity. Wears a mask to cover it up. Bit of a freak. Might scare a little lady like yourself." He said with a laugh, looking as though he expected you to laugh with him. You didn't. You didn't like the use of that word, but you didn't say anything and waited for him to get to the point. "Anyways, he can't speak too good because of it. Since you said you wouldn't be able to pay for your car, do you think you could teach him?" He adjusted his stance, and the look he gave you already told you that he expected you to accept. Truthfully, you couldn't find a single reason as to why you'd refuse.

"Of course. I've- I've taught adults, and I'll try to teach him as much as I can before I leave. And, well, you'll probably need to take lessons too so you can understand him." And Bo nodded along with that, even if he looked away and seemed reluctant with the idea. He didn't seem like the type to particularly enjoy school, but he agreed nonetheless.

"Sure, sure. Well, we can start tomorrow if that's alright with you." And you gave him a nod. It seemed like the best idea to you too. "Alright, well, if you don't need anything else then let's go." He said, rapping his knuckles against the hood of the car and passing the bag of chips back to you. You threw it back into your car, before you were shutting the door. As the pair of you each walked to your respective sides, he asked, "You hungry?" And after you replied,

"I could eat." It didn't take long for the pair of you to decide to get something for dinner. It'd been about a fifteen minute drive, and, even if it wasn't the town you were moving into, you were still nervous about the potential idea of your ex finding you. So, you stuck to Bo like glue, practically hiding behind him every time you saw someone who looked a little too much like your ex. You'd gotten a couple of pizzas. By a couple, you meant that you'd gotten three large pies. At first, you didn't even know how the two of you were supposed to finish them until you went back to Bo's house and watched him devour over half a pizza by himself. You'd eaten two slices, and you almost thought that Bo would've finished yours as well if you hadn't been there. The pair of you had been watching TV, eating, drinking, and waiting for Lester to return. It took less than an hour for his truck to pull up, your storage unit attached to it. Lester walked inside the place like he lived there, and Bo simply said,

"There's pizza in the kitchen." Before Lester was heading that direction. He came back with two slices on a plate, and suddenly the three pies made a little bit more sense. He sat in-between you and Bo and asked,

"What're we watchin'?" Right before he stuffed his face full of a slice. After a full episode of whatever Bo put on and several slices of pizza later, you figured there had to be some sort of relation between the two of them. Their mannerisms were too similar, and they were just too comfortable with eachother not to be related. You figured they were cousins, maybe even brothers. The thought of brothers brought the mysterious Vincent back into your mind, and you wondered where the third of their little family may be. Soon, Lester was wiping his face and asking, "So, do you need help unpacking?" And you realized that you hadn't talked about your sleeping arrangements yet.

"Oh, do you have a guest bedroom?" You asked, but Bo shook his head as he pried a beer bottle from his lips.

"Nah, you'll take Vincent's room." And you were flustered by the bluntness of the statement. You quickly shook your hand out in front of you, saying,

"Oh, I couldn't." Earning a glance from the brunette. With the way he looked at you, you guessed he wasn't used to being argued with. Quickly, you explained. "I mean, won't Vincent mind?" Being in his house, taking his room. You knew you would. Bo chuckled, seeming amused by your statement.

"He won't. He barely uses it." And you bit your lip. You looked between the two of them, before giving Lester a shrug.

"Sure then." You said, and Lester took your plate to take to the kitchen after giving you a smile. You'd only needed one of your suitcases, really, but you searched for a box to carry to make yourself feel a little less bad about Lester carrying the suitcase. You heard the door open, and Bo announced that he was gonna head down to town to finish up some things. You'd watched him leave for a moment, before you went back into the unit and found the box you were looking for.

You didn't know how long you were going to be in Ambrose, and you didn't imagine there'd be much space in Vincent's room. But, as Bo had eluded, it was practically empty. There was a dresser, a pre-made bed, a bedside table, a mirror on the wall, a rug on the floor, and that was about it. Lester had carried your suitcase for you, and you set your backpack on the bed. You looked over at him, telling him,

"The bed is fine." And you watched as he lifted it up onto the bed. You opened the box, revealing the contents inside. It was mostly books and folders, but there were two picture frames inside. One was a family photo when you were young, one with both of your parents. The other was a more recent one of you and your sister. You didn't look at either of them long, and went to set them on the bedside table. Lester looked over your shoulder, glancing at the pictures.

"That your sister?" He asked, and you gave him a nod as you went to unzip the suitcase. Luckily, you'd stored your unmentionables in the pocket on the top, so you didn't have to worry about Lester seeing anything you didn't want him to.

"Yeah. We were identical." You told him, and pulled out some of your shirts. You went to the dresser, pulling out a drawer. You weren't surprised when you saw it was empty, and you tucked your clothes inside. You knew Lester was just looking for a topic of conversation, but you didn't feel like lingering on your sister. So, instead, you asked, "Anything fun to do around here? The house of wax any good?" And you watched as he chuckled and nodded,

"Yeah, Vincent's a hell of an artist. It was our mothers originally though," And your ears perked at his words. So, they were related. He was biting at his nails, and you hummed.

"I'll have to check it out- If that's alright with Vincent." You quickly added the last part. At this rate, you weren't sure Vincent was going to end up liking you. You didn't want to intrude any further. You turned your head for a second, hearing a creak of a floorboard. Lester, however, was quick to steal back your attention.

"Nah, Vincent won't mind." And your attention was stolen from the sound. You looked back at him, not quite sure if you wanted to take his word. You took out some of the books, placing them on top of the dresser. If not to just give yourself something to do. "That house of wax though, that was our mothers pride and joy. She had big ideas for this town." And you hummed. You bet that she did, but you guessed the same thing happened to Ambrose as every other small town. The interstate. You arranged your books on the dresser, a question burning in the back of your mind.

"Any idea when I'll meet him?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at the man. He grinned, chuckling to himself as his eyes flashed to the wall. Just for a moment, almost too quick for you to notice.

"Soon, you'll meet him soon." He'd said, and you found his words strangely cryptic. But, you resigned yourself to the fact that your first meeting probably wouldn't be until your first class. And, while you could've sworn you heard footsteps, you blamed that on your mind playing tricks on you.

Seeing that you seemed to have everything handled, Lester excused himself. You'd invited him to the lessons before he left, and he'd accepted before he said goodnight. You'd smiled to yourself, hearing the door click as Lester shut the door behind him. You finished packing away your things, before you decided to shrug off your clothes and change into your pajamas. Even if your bedtime was far away, you thought you'd be more comfortable. You pulled your suitcase off the bed, kicking it under it before you climbed on top. It felt a little weird to be sitting on top of someone else's blanket and sheets, but you'd forgotten your set in your car. You pulled some of the folders out of the box, taking out the ones that were filled with the lesson plans for your adult class. All you really had to do was shorten the class size. You let your evening pass by as you began prepping for the next night.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair

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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years

Text

Happiness

Summary: A daughter of Thanos, Eija had grown accustomed to the isolated nature of life on the Sanctuary. Only when her father orders her to keep watch over an injured prisoner does she begin to realize how lonely it is.

Written for @lucywrites02′s Lucywrites19 Writing Challenge on prompt #6

Word Count: 4,078

Pairing: Loki (Marvel) x OFC

A/N: Lucy: *puts together a list of really nice, sweet, loving prompts that would make for some wonderful, fluffy fics*

Me: And I took that personally

Honestly, this turned into more of a separate challenge for me to see if I could take a fluffy prompt and write an angst bomb. I can say I’m both pleased and thoroughly ashamed of myself.

Happy Birthday, Lucy! I hope you don’t hate me too much after this one ...

Warnings: Implied/referenced torture (it’s not super graphic, but it’s definitely there), blood/injury, character death

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

“Are you happy, child?”

It wasn’t the type of thing Eija had expected the hulking warrior to ask a street urchin like her, especially not after catching her wrist in his pocket. Really, she should have known better than to try to steal from someone so clearly capable of crushing her skull within his fist, but his golden armor had glistened so temptingly in the sunlight and besides, she had never been caught before …

When he caught her wrist and yanked her in front of him, Eija was sure that this was the end. The penalty for stealing was steep to begin with, but stealing from a noble (and certainly this man must have been a noble) could lose you your head. But he said nothing of punishment. Instead, he curled his purple lips into a smile and asked her that question.

“Are you happy, child?”

No one had ever asked her that before. No one ever really asked her anything—the most Eija ever got were the curses spat at her on the street, on the luckless days when pickpocketing had brought her nothing and she was forced to beg for sustenance. No one cared enough to ask after her.

No, she told the warrior-noble, no, she wasn’t happy. She was hungry and tired and cold, and she didn’t have money to buy food.

The towering creature laughed, caressing the brilliant hilt that hung at his waist. “I thought not. Come,” he said, stepping forward and motioning her to follow. “I have something for you to eat on my ship.”

…

Eija tugged at the laces on her boot. She had tied and untied them three times already, but she could think of nothing else to do in this tiny room, so she went in for the fourth. Besides her, the Jotun sagged against his braces in the metal chair, his labored breathing the only sound to break the stillness. He didn’t look very Jotun. Lord Thanos had explained that it was some kind of enchantment—the AllFather had magicked away his blue skin when he was a baby to make him look more Asgardian. Eija didn’t really understand the reasoning behind such an action, but she didn’t need to. Her job was simply to make sure he survived the night.

It was a frustrating assignment. Eija wasn’t a healer—she had no idea what she was supposed to do if death came knocking for the prisoner. Unfortunately, she wasn’t exactly an assassin either, and so unlike the rest of her adoptive siblings her role on the Sanctuary wasn’t considered to be of critical importance.

So here she was. Babysitting.

The Jotun groaned. It was a soft noise, but it was enough to rip Eija’s attention away from her shoes. He shifted against his restraints, but there was no force behind the movements.

“Hey,” she called. “Are you awake?” She shouldn’t have been talking to the prisoner. Somehow, she knew Lord Thanos wouldn’t like it if he were to find out. Still, the metallic room housed a lonely existence, and Eija was desperate for any kind of distraction.

Although the prisoner didn’t exactly seem to be the ideal conversation partner. He flinched at the sound of her voice, his feeble movement falling still as abruptly as it began. Perhaps she should have gone back to her laces, but Eija was intrigued. She left her stool to stand before the Jotun, peering down at him through his shackles.

“Are you awake?” she asked again. He didn’t respond. His eyes were closed, his head hanging limply against his shoulders, as if he hadn’t just been rustling about. The thought of some grand Jotun (Asgardian?) prince trying to trick her by playing dead was so comical that Eija had to bite back her laugh.

“Hey,” she said instead, trying to add some of that Black Order sharpness to her voice as she tapped his arm. “Knock it off. I know you’re awake.”

He looked up at her then, his movement slow and labored. It almost made her wince, just looking at the way he struggled to open his bloodshot eyes. Lord Thanos had allowed Proxima charge of the Jotun today, and she had clearly made the most of it—his face was so swollen that she never would have recognized the man Corvus had pulled out of the depths of space only a week ago.

“What do you want?” he whispered, voice low and hoarse. He was making a valiant effort to control his breathing, but Eija knew the look of fear when she saw it. She had seen it in the faces of almost everyone who found themselves in the presence of Lord Thanos and his children, although those faces were never focused on her. This must have been the first time she was the cause of such terror.

It was an odd feeling. Eija wasn’t sure she liked it.

She shrugged, dropping the serious tone. “I just wanted to talk to someone. It gets very dull in here.”

The prisoner only stared at her.

No, not the ideal conversation partner at all.

Eija sighed. It seemed she’d be returning to her shoelaces in short time after all.

“Can you tell me your name at least?” she asked. No one had mentioned it yet, and Eija had been afraid to inquire. Lord Thanos hadn’t been particularly happy when he gave her this assignment—his anger had been more directed at Proxima, for nearly killing the prisoner, but Eija didn’t want to give him a reason to turn on her. She wasn’t often the target of the Mad Titan’s fury, but the few times she was were enough of a lesson for a lifetime.

But the Jotun made no response. “Is this a trick?” he asked finally.

“No. I’m just curious.” A strand of black hair had fallen into his eye. Eija was tempted to brush it away, but she held herself back. “I’ll tell you my name, if it makes you feel better,” she offered.

She waited a moment for him to give some kind of answer. He didn’t.

“Eija,” she said. “My name’s Eija.”

He inhaled. “Did he send you to kill me?”

The question caught her off guard, although perhaps it was fair. “What? No, no I’m just— no,” she stuttered. “I don’t … kill people.”

He eyed her, unconvinced. “Why are you here, then?”

“To make sure you don’t die,” she said. “They were worried, you know.” Proxima had been quite proud of herself. Eija had overheard her bragging to some of the others earlier in the day about how she had the little prince calling out for his mother by the end. They had been laughing about it, how quickly he had succumbed to childish instincts, but the thought intrigued Eija.

She had never known her mother. Before Lord Thanos had found her, she had had no one but herself, scrounging up what food she could from what she stole on the street. She never cried for anyone, no matter how frightened she was. She had no one to cry for.

She wondered what it was like.

“Are you truly not going to tell me your name?” she asked. It was a bit disappointing. She had hoped he’d be at least a little more interesting than this.

He swallowed slowly, painfully. Whereas before it seemed he was afraid to take his eyes off of her, now he seemed unable to meet her gaze.

“Loki,” he finally whispered.

“Loki,” Eija repeated. The name made her smile, although she wasn’t quite sure why it would. “It’s nice to meet you, Loki.”

She asked him more questions as the night went on—questions about his home, his family, his childhood memories. At first, he wouldn’t answer any of them. He’d just stare at her blankly as she posed her queries or whip his head away as if he couldn’t stand to be faced with the words.

So, she changed tactics. She told him about growing up on Knowhere, before Thanos found her, about how when she was not yet six years of age the man she had known as her father dumped her on the side of the road and flew away into permanent obscurity, and about how she taught herself how to reach into another’s pocket and pull out exactly what she was looking for by practicing on the other unsuspecting urchins who lived alongside her on the street. It was strange, to relieve those stories before an audience. Because he was an audience, like it or not. He was listening to every word she said, even more so, she suspected, than he wanted to let on.

When she left that morning, after Corvus came to take over for the day, her throat was so dry she could barely speak. It was a nice kind of dry, though. The Black Order never demanded her voice anyways, so it wasn’t a noticeable inconvenience.

It was worth it.

“You again,” Loki muttered when she slipped into the cell the following evening. “Eija.”

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “You remembered my name!”

“You talked a lot.” He blinked sleepily. “You had a nice voice.”

Eija stopped. She wasn’t certain she heard him incorrectly. “What?”

He yawned. “You had a nice voice.”

She felt a flush rising in her cheeks. It was quite possibly the kindest thing anyone had ever said to her, as ridiculous as it seemed. Eija doubted her siblings could even recognize the sound of her voice—if they did, it would have been to scold her for stepping so far out of line, certainly not to pay her a compliment.

“If you’d like,” she said eagerly, pulling the stool across the room so she could sit next to him. “I can tell you more stories?”

It became the part of the day Eija looked forward to most—the moments where she could talk for hours about anything she wanted, without the ever-present fear of her siblings’ mockery or the Mad Titan’s chastening. It felt … safe, in a way that she hadn’t felt safe before. Warm. She always felt so alone on this ship, wasting away whilst awaiting orders. There were points where even her own thoughts seemed to abandon her to the darkness.

But not here. Not with Loki.

He seemed to enjoy it as well. Of course, she held no illusions that he was quite literally a captive audience, but he listened. He remembered the things she said to him. On good days, he’d even ask her questions, add in thoughts and stories of his own.

“You said you don’t kill people,” he asked suddenly, on one such visit. “Did you mean that?”

Eija shifted uncomfortably. This had always been an awkward subject. “Yes,” she said. “I’m not an assassin. I don’t have the training.”

“What do you do here, then?”

She inhaled. “Steal things.”

“Steal things?” he repeated. “What kind of things?”

Eija shrugged. “Anything he wants,” she said. “Weapons, passkeys, precious gems—whatever.” She remembered that day, when Lord Thanos had taken her from the streets to his ship, what he had said as she devoured the soup his servant placed in front of her.

“I have more trained killers than I know what to do with,” he told her. “But perhaps I could use a sneak thief.”

Eija had agreed to everything he said— it wasn’t as if she was in any position to refuse him, and besides, anything had to be better than sleeping in a trash bin. And so, she became the Titan’s personal retriever, sneaking her way across the galaxy and returning with the treasures he coveted in her pockets. Her methods were straight and to the point. She was in and out before anyone even noticed her presence, and, unlike her adopted siblings, there wasn’t a trail of bodies left in her wake.

“But if your role is to steal things,” Loki asked. “Then what are you doing with me?”

Eija didn’t answer right away. Thanos had not ordered her to continue her night watch over the Jotun prisoner. He hadn’t said that she couldn’t, but she was fairly certain that he wouldn’t be pleased to find that she had. What was she doing here?

“I just like to talk to somebody, I guess,” she said. “Besides, somebody has to make sure you make it through the night.”

Although it became exceedingly clear with each passing day that such a task may be outside of her abilities. One night, she could hear his hacking all the way down the hall, rattling the walls as she rushed to his side. She found him sagging limply against his shackles, soaked in blood and sweat and goodness knows what else as he choked on his own breath.

Eija didn’t know what to do—she could only wipe the blood from his face and hold the bottle of water to his lips.

“What does he want from me?” he croaked, once he could finally speak. There were tears running down the creases of his face, although whether that was from emotion or pain Eija couldn’t be sure. “Why is he doing this to me?”

For once, she said nothing. She had no answer for him.

She tried asking Gamora once. It was no secret that the Zehoberei was Lord Thanos’ favorite—if he were to tell anyone his intentions for the prisoner, it would be her.

But the assassin gave her nothing. “He has a use in mind,” she said. “Don’t question him.”

“But,” Eija hesitated. “If that’s the case, why is he hurting him?” She gulped. “If he has a use for him, shouldn’t he be … using him?”

Gamora glared at her. “If he’s not strong enough to survive this, he’s not strong enough to do Thanos’ bidding.” Her tone lowered in warning. “Remember your place.”

Eija did remember her place. She was reminded of it with every passing moment—leashed to her lord’s beck and call, every day walking that delicate tightrope of anticipating his wishes without asserting herself too far in his eyes, living in fear of the day when the bottom finally fell through and he decided to unsheathe the blade at his waist.

Was this his plan for Loki as well? Torture him to death’s edge until it pleased him to make him yet another glorified slave? She thought of Loki, shackled to his chair, heaving and coughing up blood, sentenced to wither away until Thanos found use for him … for what? The mere crime of existence?

And here she was, letting it happen, watching as Thanos sucked the life out of him, simply using him as a receptacle to her own selfish need for attention.

She was just as awful.

But there was nothing she could do about it. Was there?

Unless …

The thought started as a hypothetical. Isn’t that how all treason began? A tiny what-if, buried under one’s daily worries? The hangers of the Sanctuary were hardly well-guarded. There was little reason to guard them, after all—few on this vessel had cause to sneak off of it, and those who did hadn’t the opportunity. And with the current position they had been holding the last few days, only a small way from the Krylor jump point, which could then take you down through one of the major galactical traffic-ways …

Stealing a ship would be almost too easy.

It wouldn’t work, she told herself as she stood amongst her siblings in Thanos’ court. The ship was one thing, the passenger was something else entirely. Loki’s chains were specifically designed by the Mad Titan to stifle the magic of that whom they held. They were the very definition of unbreakable. And the key—Thanos kept it on his person at all times, hooked to his belt alongside his blades. Any scheme was doomed to fail.

But sometimes, opportunities present themselves.

“And where are you going, child?”

Eija jumped out of her skin when she turned the corner and nearly collided with the lord himself. It took her a moment to find her voice.

“To watch over the prisoner, as you ordered, sir.”

He frowned. “That was weeks ago. You’re not still doing that now?”

She bit her tongue, so hard it hurt. “W-with all due respect sir, you never told me to stop.”

“Well, I’m telling you now. Such action is no longer necessary.”

“Yes sir.” She nodded. “Apologies, sir.”

Eija stood there shaking long after he had continued down the hall. Her heart felt as if it might pound its way out of her chest. He had to have noticed. In a moment, he’d come storming back up the corridor, grab her by her neck, and crush her skull against the wall.

But he never did.

It was just Eija, alone in the hallway, clutching the golden key between her trembling fingers.

There was little time. Her theft could only go overlooked for so long. She didn’t have the chance to question herself as she rushed to Loki’s cell—any moment spent in doubt was a moment wasted.

Loki seemed to be unconscious when she first arrived at his side, but he popped up with a start the moment she reached for his chains.

“What—" he gasped, eyes wild. “What’s happening?”

The key clicked in the lock. He heaved a breath, falling forward as the shackles fell open.

“You’re going home.” Eija’s mind was racing at a mile a minute. They couldn’t steal a Q-ship—it was too big; they’d would be noticed immediately … “Can you fly a pod?” she asked.

He gulped. “Possibly?”

“Good enough.” She pulled him to his feet. It was at this moment she became aware of the fact that she had only every seen him seated. Loki was tall. Much, much taller than her, and when he sagged against her it took all of her strength to keep him from tumbling to the metallic floor. For a moment she feared that he was too weak to even stand on his own and nearly panicked, because oh goodness how was she supposed to carry him all the way to the hanger—

But he managed to stabilize himself, gripping her shoulder so tightly that she lost feeling in it, but standing on his own. Slowly, she was able to walk him into the hallway.

The hanger was only a few floors above them, but the elevator ride felt like an eternity.

Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop …

If it stopped before they reached their destination, they were both dead.

Besides her, Loki’s breathing was labored. He hadn’t said anything since she had come to get him.

She squeezed his forearm, hoping he couldn’t feel how she was trembling like a leaf. “You alright?”

He nodded weakly. “I assume you have a plan?”

“The pods are lined on the far wall of the hanger.” She inhaled. “When the door opens, we run like mad and get you on one. And then you take off for the jump point, and don’t stop until you’ve hit traffic.”

Loki turned to her, brow furrowed. “What about you?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes. Surely you’ll not stay here?”

Eija gulped. There wasn’t time to think about that now.

The elevator doors clicked open to reveal a thicket of barbed shadows and twisted metal. The hanger was lifeless and barren this time of night, lit only by the glow of the cosmos streaming in through the glass. They made their way in perfect silence, the only sound being the pounding of her heartbeat behind her eardrums. Every dark shape seemed like a waiting figure. Now, it was Eija that clung to him too tightly, terrified that at any moment someone would jump out and rip him from her grasp. By the time they reached their destination, they were both wildly out of breath.

The pods were small, thin one-man transports. Calling them ships was really being too generous. They weren’t really meant for long term travel, but they could work for a few jumps—long enough to get to civilized airspace, which was all he needed. She helped Loki into the compartment, careful to keep him from hitting his head on the low ceiling. This damn ship had caused him enough pain already.

He sighed, leaning against the seat in one short moment of rest before turning back to her. “You still haven’t said what you plan to do.”

Eija hesitated. What could she plan to do? She had nothing waiting for her beyond this ship. As with all of his children, Thanos held a piece of her that he would never relinquish, no matter how far she flew.

“I’ll stay here,” she murmured. “For now, at least. They might pick up on something if too much is out of place.”

“But—"

“Please,” Eija hissed. “You remember what I said, right? Take the Krylor jump, and just keep towards Xandar.” She inhaled so deeply it hurt, trying to bury the aching dread building in her chest. “Stay with the crowds whenever you can—he won’t bother with you if it means he has to go through heavy populations.”

Loki nodded, but she wasn’t certain he was listening. There was a sadness behind his eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul. He squeezed her hand, pressing her knuckles to his lips in the lightest of kisses.

“Thank you, Eija,” he whispered. “May fate be kind to you.”

…

The alarm went off some hours later, when morning dawned upon an empty cell. They came for her only minutes after. Eija hadn’t been certain of what she would do—would she scream when they broke down her door? Cry for help? Fight for her life? But as the Black Order filed into her room with their weapons drawn, Eija felt only an overwhelming calm. It was good that they were here. The longer they spent with her, the more of a chance Loki had of getting away.

She went with her adoptive siblings willingly.

They took her to the same tiny room where this had all begun, shackled her to the same chair she had watched over so diligently. Eija barely registered it.

Surely, Loki was hundreds of star systems away from here now.

Surely he was safe.

When the pain did come, it filled every fiber of her being, burning through her body as if she were nothing but dry kindling. Her vision bled white. Her screams ripped her throat raw.

They asked no questions. She was relieved for that at least, because her every coherent thought shattered to pieces long before it could reach her lips.

She understood now why Loki had cried for his mother. She would have too, had she a mother to cry for. Instead, she just cried.

Eija wasn’t certain how much time had passed before he arrived. It could have been hours, it could have been months, but at some point when she dragged her aching head to look up she found Lord Thanos staring down at her, the stony weight of disappointment heavy on his features.

Gamora stood next to him. She spared a glance at her former sister, softer, sadder, almost sympathetic, before she turned back to her father.

“Sir, the Jotun is out of tracking range. There’s nothing we can do at this point.”

Out of range.

Eija thought of Loki, raven hair streaming in the breeze behind him as he pulled himself out of the craft, safe on some green, luscious, faraway planet that the Black Order could never reach. She smiled, blood dripping from her lips.

Thanos’ expression remained immovable.

“Well, child,” he finally said, looking down at her as he caressed the glinting hilt at his waist. “Look upon this mess. See what you have done. Are you happy now?” He reached out with his other hand, tipping her chin up towards him with a single finger, as if the mere thought of touching her disgusted him. “You look happy.”

Eija felt a laugh tickle her throat. It came out as more of a cough, blood and bile staining her tongue. Still, she could not bring herself to stop smiling.

“I am happy, sir.”

It was true. A beautiful warmth flooded her aching chest. She laughed again, closing her eyes and letting the feeling wash over her.

She was still laughing when the blade severed her throat.

#lucywrites19 #loki marvel #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #happiness #cozy writes

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herstarburststories · 3 years

Text

you and me and the devil makes three.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader, Demon!Dean Winchester x reader, past Lisa x Dean

Summary: Dean is a demon, he will take whatever he wants.

A/N: This got darker than I expected. I wanna make it clear I don't condone or engage with Dean's acts on this. This is my submission for @jawritter 's Make Me Cry Challenge. Congrats, honey! Hope you like it. Dividers by talesmanic and gif credit here

Prompt: I guess I should have been more like her.

Warnings: non consensual kissing, language, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR, non con (kissing and touching but no sex), dirty talk

Dean Winchester was a dreamer.

In the rawest way of the word, the meaning in the dust-collecting dictionaries and not the idealistic form. His eyelids shut close and, just like magic, Dean’s head was as haunted as the home he swore he’d never come back to in Kansas. The ghosts of the past, not ever so very friendly, coming to greet him at least three times per week. Sometimes they were happy films he could never starre in real life, his mom singing or a picnic with a lover saying that they needed to hurry up to get their kid at the baseball. The nightmares were sleepy visions of flesh and blood, mostly about his time underneath, Sam hurting, or his father spilling out his worst fears at his face.

Maybe it was how the eldest Winchester’s brain compensated for the lack of bedtime tales and docile affairs growing up. The own way that his brittle soul discovered and molded not to let him collapse, or to always keep him on red alert.

Good and bad deals are mostly a matter of which side you are betting your money on, really.

Because yeah, Dean did wake up feeling like he had shut his forest eyes briefly for twenty minutes instead of hours when he dreamed, but he also had never spent so long trapped in a better place. The green eyed hunter didn’t know which one was worse: the good dreams or the horrific ones. After all, he had went through all the atrocity and made it out alive, but the engulfed craving for light-hearted scenarios was suffocating. The hunter could never have it all. Trust him, he tried. Then, which is more agonizing: to have everything you ever wanted for a couple hours and have every scrap of it taken from you, or to undergo the calamity that accompanied your breaking point?

Dean didn’t know, he didn’t even know what to tell Sam when he wondered what his brother had dreamt about to wake up sweating and screaming, all the light and stupid apple pie desires and the sharp brutality crawling out of the back of his mind. He made a joke, Megan Fox really liked knives, man. He kept it in, shoved down a good amount of alcohol, and mocked the worry of doing the lawn. Ready for another day.

But now he was a demon, and apparently whatever he was made of - sulfur, cruelty, and black eyes under garden ones - wasn't worthy quiet reliefs in the middle of the night, or even frightening figments of memory. He became his worst dreams and all the dreams slipped beyond his reaches because of that. Demons, those unholy creatures, didn’t get the human peculiarities. You know what? Fine by him.

Who needed dreams when you don't need sleep, anyway? Even better: who needed dreams when you don't care about what you gotta do to put your greedy hands on the prize you had been eyeing for years?

Dean Winchester was finally free. Free for the first time since he was a four years little boy who watched his mother burning with a terrorized expression, ironically mimicking the one Mary wore on the ceiling. His dad’s shouting for him to grab Sammy and run, take your little brother and run, echoing through years and years. There was never time for Dean, for his grief or his questions or whatever the child frozen in time under his rib cage could come up with. They said, stupid psychologists with their fancy degrees and malicious bartenders with a unfriendly grun under the counter who learned a little too much, everybody said that when someone was so traumatized as a kid, that person would tend to get frozen at that age. Therefore, how tremendously alleviating was to kill any reminiscing emotion of the whiny child he used to be.

The kind of freedom that no traveler longed for; when one’s ruined and damaged enough not to care, and just take and take and take like hunger itself. Dean was an evil thing now, what else could he do but act on the figments of the worst intentions?

And feel so fucking good when doing that.

‘’Where do you think he's going?’’ Your eyes raked over the street, darting between the asphalt under Baby’s wheels and Sam’s weary features.

‘’I don't know.’’ He sighed, attempting to organize his thoughts. Even as a demon, his brother wouldn’t just run miles and miles away by himself for no apparent reason. There had to be something you and Sam were missing out, some unseen clue or a hidden meaning. ‘’What the localizator says?’’

At least you had managed to put a tracker in his boots during your last encounter. Whatever Dean was thinking of starting there, you and Sam wouldn’t let him.

‘’Still Cicero, Indiana.’’ You sighed. Sammy furrowed his eyebrows, a long forgotten memory rising. ‘’What?’’

‘’We had a case there once years ago.’’ He explained, opting not to elaborate. Your and Dean’s relationship was troubled enough with his new self. Sam didn’t want to blow it up completely. His brother would need you once he came back to himself. The look on your face, though, reported how you weren’t buying his cheap excuses. The long haired hunter sighed. ‘’Did Dean ever tell you about that?’’

‘’No.’’

He stepped on the accelerator.

To find the woman was excruciatingly easy. The freckled demon couldn't believe he opened his computer many times and gave up before today. He glanced through the glass window and there she was, standing in all her glory with a body that seemed to forget how to grow old. Her tan skin still glowing, as appetizing as ever. Brown eyes shining so bright, tiny hands that always seemed to know where he wanted to be touched. She was laughing like there was no tomorrow, holding a glass of wine with one hand and her cellphone with the other, while her dark hair was falling so perfectly over her shoulder, like waves against the rocks in the sea.

Dean can’t wait to smell her again, to taste her, to prove her. His fingers were tingling, begging to touch what was his as he hopped off the car, walking towards the porch. He had been gone for a long time, but now he was back.

He will destroy that quintessential, sequin woman so good.

The Winchester buckled in front of the white door, graced with the sound of the female giggle. Thin walls, he thought, those will be useful to make sure the neighbors know who’s back home. Her steps on the wood floor growing closer and closer as he heard a goodbye, probably aimed at whoever she was on the phone with. It was almost like the caramel skinned woman knew that whoever was on her doorstep wasn’t gonna be a hustled visitor. Or so the demon’s arranged mind said.

‘’Hey, Lis.’’ Dean’s voice lacked any cherishment as she opened the door, who would know that the absence of a soul wouldn't be gelid, just dry? As for her, Lisa’s face was drained of love. For all she was aware of, he was a stranger who knew her name. The male let out a chuckle empty of joy. She really didn’t remember, huh? ‘’Whoa. Cass really fucked up your head, huh? At least he did one thing right.’’

‘’Excuse me?’’ The man with dirty blonde hair and perfect teeth smelled like alcohol. She wasn’t having any of this tonight. ‘’Listen, I don’t know who you are and--’’

‘’Don’t worry.’’ He tranquilized her, although the lopsided grin on his lips held anything but good intentions. ‘’I’ll make you remember. I have a spell. You won’t believe how much you missed me.’’

The mocking laugh that left her lips utterly aggravated him. ‘’I don’t know you. Please leave or I’ll call the police.’’

Dean didn’t need a crowd for that part, a bratty woman in need of a firm hand should get a particular lesson.

‘’You always liked a little cat and mouse.’’

Speaking of, the demon pushed the door wide open without any effort. Lisa jumped at the sudden move, every instinct inside her deciding that man was a threat and not some harmless wasted guy. Her body was quickly erect, thinking about ways to run and get help, but Dean swiftly pushed her to him and kicked the door closed-- her small figure collided to his chest.

Human savagery was cut in urban ways, molded to civilize the animalistic instincts. Imagine meat. A dead animal on a silver plate, and we couldn’t wait to chew every inch of it. We couldn’t wait to eat it, put that dead thing inside us and hope it’ll be enough to control the predatory hungry. Humans will always be animals, but so will be their rests that constructed the demons.

Dean may not be a hunter anymore, but he’s still a predator who can't wait to taste his prey. He could small it, the fear in Lisa’s sweat making his mouth water. How much she tried to fight against him and scream other names when his was the only one he wanted her to need tonight. The resistance of a poor human barely made the monster shiver.

He closed his hands around her arms, throwing her against the wall like someone tossed an old toy away. There was no space for delicaly. In that moment, Dean Winchester was a tiger, a lion, the big bad wolf attacking the omega. Lis winced, her back hurting as her fibers. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that man was about to do something so terrible and disgusting to her in her own house, the place she was supposed to feel warm and safe. Why did he seem to know her? Why did he say she was gonna remember? Was he crazy, hallucinating, or drugged? Why was he so satisfied with how frightened her tiny body looked? How could she use all that information to somehow push him away?

‘’Let me go!’’ She demanded, her legs kicking the demon with ferocity. ‘’What’s wrong with you? LET ME GO NOW!’’

The brunette’s skilled body moved itself desperately, and the act of resistance only brought a hysterical laugh out of Dean. The wrong kind of goosebumps washed her skin, she had to run away for her life. This man was mad.

‘’FIRE! FIRE!’’ Lisa started to scream. Well-aware that people were most likely to come around and help a woman screaming if she said fire. ‘’THERE’S A FIRE. SOMEONE HELP ME!’’

One of his hands went to her neck, wrapping his fingers around it to shut her up. That was rubbing him off the wrong way. Lisa Braeden used to beg for his touch, how dared her not to want him anymore? Now that he was better, stronger, and thicker.

The brown eyed girl went quiet, probably scared by his brutal behavior. Dean smiled, a blood stained grin that carried mischief and pervertment. He licked the tears savoring the salty horror coming from her. Just like the day he was a vampire who almost gave in to drinking every drop of her luptuos blood. She may not remember but he did and he couldn't wait to get inside her, those tight walls squeezing his hard cock.

‘’You’re gonna do as I say, Lis. And I won't hurt you… Much.’’ He risped, crooked nose stroking her wet cheek. She whined. ‘’Don’t worry, honey. You loved it. Bet you’ll scream so much once I fuck you good.’’

‘’Please, don’t do it.’’ She begged as he coaxed his body against his. That man was stronger than her, she had no other choice but to plead to his human side. If only she knew.

‘’Begging already?’’ Dean lifted his head, smirking at her. Lisa just wanted to cry and close her eyes until everything was done. How could someone do that? ‘’I told you, don’t worry. I’m gonna make a lil’ spell that will give your memories back and you’ll remember everything. And then we’re gonna have so much fun, Lis.’’

His last murmur was finished with a kiss. A harsh, ruthless kiss. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she could call it a kiss; teeth against each other, his vicious mouth pressed to her weakened lips, his tongue invading her like a robber and showing an unrequited dominance.

‘’Dean!’’ Your voice resonated stridently, louder than the door Sam had stormed open. You couldn’t believe what your eyes witnessed. ‘’Stop it!’’

Dean groaned, as if you and Sam were stepping on his territory. He simply turned his head to you two, not pulling away from Lisa. You couldn’t see her face, your boyfriend’s large shoulder and tall body covering her up. His eyes were still green, which set the scene in an even more atrocious light.

Your thoughts were racing. How could he come to her, crave her so badly that he drove away miles and miles as a demon? He was supposed not to feel a thing. You prepared yourself for a cold man, not an obsessive one. Apparently, a heart hidden under the black smoke. Choose if it's a gift or Pandora's box. Sam told you their history. Of course he would want that and not you. Dean never left Lisa because he fell out of love for her, he was ripped out from her life. You were so pissed at yourself; how could you picture playing the woman in his veins? How stupid were you? He may be a demon guided by wants and not emotions, but what was love but an amount of outrageous desires laced up with some pretty words and flavored with dependency?

‘’Y/N and Sammy--’’

Love was the wrong word here. Anyway. Go head and unwrap it.

‘’Please help me!’’ Lisa’s voice came to life once more through her quiet cry. Dean hardened the hold around her throat, making her cough a little.

Suddenly, your body is frozen. That, whatever that is, whatever he’s doing to Lisa. It wasn’t love. She didn’t want it. When his frame moved to face you and Sam, you caught a glimpse of her face. She was petrified, her delicate features contorted in wrath and fear and beg for help.

‘’Quiet.’’ Dean howled, glancing at her rapidly before his eyes fell on you and Sam again. ‘’You two are such killjoys. I told you to let me go.’’

You couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You wanted to puke your guts out.

‘’And what? Kill your ex? Or do something even worse to her?’’ You elicited with disgust.

‘’She’ll come around eventually. Just playing hard to get. You know how frisky women are.’’ The corner of his lips curved into a barbaric grim, one of his hands touching Lisa’s cheek. The victim winced at the touch. ‘’Besides, I’m not just gonna take her. I’ll make her remember and she’ll want me.’’ He shrugged, unbothered by the horrified looks of everyone in the room. ‘’Are you really worried about Lis, Y/N? Or are you just jealous that I didn’t go for you?’’

‘’Enough, Dean.’’ Sam groaned, holding the gun up. It felt oily. ‘’Let her go. And come with us.’’

The demon tossed the brunette away with a simple sleight of hand, pulling his sleeves up with a marred beam. His eyes switched from starry green to black, showing his true facette. It was a peculiar relief. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean.

Yet, Dean’s gruff voice said in a twisted playful tone:

‘’Come get me, Sammy.’’

Dean Winchester was cured. For most people, to heal is to let go or to learn with things. In the doctor’s case, healing is leaving a bruise to cover up a wound. Everyone believed the war started and ended, and that was it. But when something so ravaging is gone, you gotta deal with the trauma.

He was a trauma. Cured from a sickness, drowning in sorrow and waves of woe. All the worst things Dean ever did, he knew now, weren’t to himself or to the monster he so proudly killed. His unspoken acts were against the people he cared about.

The hunter never thought his hands, his bruised and tough hands could ever hurt Lis. The woman who was his lifeline when Sam died, who allowed him to be a father and live in his dreamland of suburban life. All she ever did was to love him, and what did she get for it?

He was disgusted with himself. What almost did to her was enough to hunt him and make him sure he was going back to hell, very deserving this time. Threating to do that to a woman, and enjoy it… Dean couldn’t bear driving into memories. He was selfishly glad he didn’t remember about that, only Sam’s explanation was enough: he went to Lisa, he kissed her without her consent, and Sam and you stopped him going any further. Would his unscrupulous, demon self go ahead? He was too scared to wonder, even though his brother said that he apparently had a spell to make Lis remember and wasn’t planning on just taking her. A forced kiss was disgusting enough. He just wished Sam had put a bullet in his black eyes right there.

You walked in the bathroom that you once shared with the eldest Winchester

She was everything he ever wanted, all the suburban dreams and acceptance of hunter reality without being in it. Lisa loved him completely and you could only love him sideways-- you never wanted to be a mom, or to have a family or live in a suburb. Those were valid goals, just not yours. You thought you and Dean were on the same page about it, but this other side, not only the pervert demon but the domestic man, hadn’t been shown to you until a couple days ago. Sam had cured his brother, his dirty nature washed away with holy water, but you couldn’t help the bruises that came from the dog days. Lisa had her memory erased by Cass again, you didn’t have the same unfair luxury.

‘’Dean.’’ You said, making him look up at you. Bags under his eyes and wrinkles more evident than ever. ‘’We need to talk.’’

He sighed and wiped his face. ‘’Y/N, I don’t want to talk right now.’’

‘’You never do.’’ You scoffed, gaining an incredulous glance from him. ‘’I know that what happened was disgusting and sick and the worst thing you could ever do, but we need to talk.’’

He took a deep breath. ‘’What do you wanna talk about?’’

‘’You went to her.’’ You stated as a lawyer in front of a jury. Dean furrowed.

‘’What?’’

‘’Lisa. You went to her.’’ When the arrow hit someone so damaged, it was like an animal with his teeth there that wouldn't let go. Yeah, his human soul wasn't the same brittle glass as before but it lingered in his demon self in the shape of delusion, and it was distorted by whatever he was made of, violence and darkness, and turned into something disgusting. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’Love?’’ The word burned his tongue, Dean didn’t think he had the right to ever use it again. ‘’I was a demon, Y/N. I didn’t love or feel anything. What I did--’’

‘’You didn’t do anything.’’ You interrupted, loyal as a soldier.

‘’I forced a kiss on her and wanted to bring her memories back to have sex with her. That’s disgusting and I did half of that.’’ He pointed out aggitadly, plump lips moving fast and voice deeper. ‘’It wasn’t love. Leaving her years back was love.’’

You didn’t miss how Dean didn’t even dare to say her name. ‘’So you don’t think about her? Not even once?’’

He scoffed humourless. ‘’Are you kidding me?’’

‘’I guess I should have been more like her.’’ You hugged yourself, glancing at the wall. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again, not for another woman. That wasn’t even your cicatrix to ache.

‘’Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about?’’ The fully green eyed man raised to his feet, glancing at you with disbelief. He couldn’t face how messed up it was. ‘’I can’t believe you are jealous of what happened. I thought I was the broken one here.’’

‘’I’m not her.’’ You two shared it, the glance that only two women who were hurt by the same man could. You both understood that when he got inside you, it was like the syringe in an eutanasia. Once you were happy because you loved him, now you were scared and not so sure this was what you wanted. ‘’I’m not her and you knew it. When you became just instincts and selfish and did whatever you wanted, you didn’t come to me. You came to her.’’

‘’I hurt her.’’

The next words fly out of your mouth, as weak and totaled as you felt: ‘’Why didn’t you hurt me?’’

‘’This is the most unhealthy shit we ever went through.’’ Dean’s right. You have her expression mesmerized on your brain. Dean was the man on top of her, teaching her how to hate. How to fear. You can’t trust yourself. ‘’I can’t believe you.’’

‘’Neither can I.’’ You were so sick. How ravaged and annihilated one had to be to wish to be a demon's object of obsession? To get jealous that another woman almost died in the arms of a beast that cried his blood out once he came back to being a man and saw what he had done? ‘’I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I was there and I saw how scared of you she was, how all she wanted was to push you away and run because she was so disgusted--’’

‘’Stop.’’ He groaned, but it came out more like a whine than anything. ‘’It wasn’t me. I would never hurt Lis. I would never force her to do anything! I--’’

You gave him a sad smile. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’I love you.’’ Dean approached you, fumbling in despair to fix yet another thing his hands destroyed. If Rome was built in ruins, he was a kingdom. You pulled away before his tough hands landed on you.

‘’But you love her too.’’ The hunter stopped on his spot, unable to answer. ‘’I ruined myself for you, Dean. I can’t-- I won’t do that again. You are right. This is unhealthy. The fact that you’ve been pining for her for so long, pushing down those feelings to the point they are twisted into something so cruel and disgusting. You need help.’’ What kind of ugly you have to have inside you for a monster to love you? And, even worse, what kind of sickness you have trapped, written in your blood to want it to be spilled out in his name? ‘’You really are venom. If this is how you love, it’s scary as fuck.’’ When you loved a broken man, you were never sure if his shattered pieces would glisten or cut your hand once the light came in. Here’s your answer. His parts crawled inside you through pulled up scars, scraping your insides to make into ruins, but you never liked Rome much. You had to be better than that. ‘’Goodbye, Dean.’’

He couldn’t bring himself to go after your steps.

Once again, it’s the kind of freedom no traveler wants. When you lost it all and didn't have any person or place to cling to, when you had to leave because you were becoming the girl you swore you’d never leave, when you walked away willingly without a map.

Still, it was all you had. You’d make a good use of it. You’d be okay. No more ugly emotions or sentiments that made you unrecognizable. No more knives that cut both ways, or situations so complicated you weren’t sure where your morals could rely on.

You’d be okay, healthy, and happy.

You’d be okay.

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