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drewsbuzzcut · 2 months

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blurb of like Dallas doing a day in the life of a married 20 year old still in college

“Good morning,” Dallas yawns, holding her phone up at an angle to catch her untamed, morning hair. Rolling over, she captures Nick who is nestled into her side. His face moves to the crook of her neck and his limbs are thrown over her body.

“He’s such a sleepy baby,” she giggles, carding her fingers through his hair. She abruptly stops when he stirs.

“Who are you talking to?” He mumbles, face moving and burrowing into her chest.

“TikTok,” at Dallas’ words, Nick looks up at the camera to see her recording. He eventually decides he doesn’t care and falls right back to sleep

“Today is a busy day, so unfortunately I have to get up!”

Dallas forces herself out of bed and her husband’s arms. She gets so fluttery on the inside when she remembers that they’re officially married.

She sets up her phone on the bathroom counter while she brushes her teeth and does her skincare.

“So today we have no classes, thank god! I literally cannot fathom having to go to an 8 am. Pro tip: don’t sign up for morning classes because they’ll kick your ass,” she informs while rubbing her moisturizer into her face.

“Anyways back to the agenda, I have to go to a ton of fabric stores, because I just know I won’t find all of what I’m looking for at a singular location. I have an appointment to get my last name changed to Moldenhauer, and then I have to go to the store and buy different necessities. Oh, I also have a pilates class and a test to take, so today should be busy to say the least,” Dallas lists off the different things on her agenda.

She quickly goes into her makeup routine, showing off her favorite products that she uses everyday.

“Wait!” Nick blurts out, scurrying into the restroom with only his underwear on. She’ll have to blur it out later. He hugs her from behind, his arms wrapping around her neck and requests a kiss before she puts on lip gloss.

“I’m going with you, so just let me get ready. I’ll be like 10 minutes,” he says against her lips, a hand coming up to caress her cheek.

Dallas nods her head and kisses him again.

“I love you, husband.” Her cheeks grow red and her eyes turn into hearts.

“I love you, wife.” She wants to jump around and scream; she loves him so much.

“We’re here at one of my favorite thrift stores. I usually buy left over fabrics or pieces of clothing that I can incorporate into a different piece. Right now I have over half of my list, which is actually so relieving,” Dallas talks fast while giving an overview of the different things in her basket.

She continues to walk around until she finds Nick looking through a pile of old umich merch.

“Baby, look at this jacket. You’d look so hot in it, especially if you’re wearing your leather pants and those little kitten heels,” Nick announces the outfit he’s picturing in his head.

He holds up the vintage looking, windbreaker with a smirky smile. He drops his eye in a wink and the girl has to stop recording, so she can kiss her husband.

“You’re so hot,” she mutters into his mouth. Her fingers card through his hair, and she has a hard time not pulling him into the restroom at the back of the store.

“Back to our regularly scheduled program, Nick is almost a better thrifter than I am. He, not only found two of the fabrics I was looking for, but some statement pieces for some game day fits. He learned from the best,” she whispers into the mic of her phone as she records Nick showing off what he found. He’s so proud of himself and it’s the cutest thing ever.

“I think I deserve a kiss for all my hard work,” Nick hums and pulls his wife into his chest.

They share a sweet kiss that’s interrupted by their giggling and wide smiles. They do a little kiss for the camera and Dallas knows she’s so insanely lucky to have him by her side.

Dallas pulls Nick away from the camera, getting him to spin her around. She burns red with the way his eyes focus on her and the way she twirls around. She truly feels like the only girl in the world when she’s with Nick.

Dallas strikes a pose and Nick falls in line without even being told. They show off their outfits and do a little dance together.

“I think everyone should leave a compliment, telling her how beautiful and sexy and hot she is. But she’s mine!” Nick jokes. Well, Dallas thinks it’s a joke, but knowing him, he’d probably get jealous of the comments.

“No one leave comments about my husband, because he’s mine and no one else can look at him,” Dallas counters Nick’s words, giving her man a glimpse of her very well hidden jealousy. Even if it’s a joke, she wants him to know that she can also match his possessiveness. Not that he minds.

Nick flashes a smirk at the camera and cops a squeeze of her ass, making her gasp and turn her backside away from the camera.

“You all did not see that,” she says through a laugh.

Her hockey player doesn’t care, though, so he slaps her ass and kisses on her neck until she’s squirming.

“I’m so excited! I have been looking forward to this all day. We’re here at our local courthouse to file paperwork to change my last name. It’s the reason why I’m wearing slacks and a button up; i have to look professional. Since I’m only 20, I’ve received a lot of hate for being married already.”

“It’s bull. She should not be getting any hate for being in love. People who have something bad to say are just jealous,” Nick chimes in, putting an appreciative smile on his wife’s face.

She finds herself smiling a lot since meeting him and since marrying him.

The camera pans to the doors of the courthouse and their intertwined hands. Her pearl ring and floral engraved band shine in the sun.

“Hi, June Blankenburg. I’m here to file the required paperwork to change my last name.”

Now Nick’s holding the camera, flipping it back and forth between Dallas and his excited reaction.

“I can’t believe the love of my life is changing her last name to mine. I can’t believe I get to be married to her for the rest of my life,” he whispers, camera pointed at his wife as she hands over her paperwork.

“Soon I’ll officially be June Dallas Moldenhauer on every legal document! I’m so excited,” Dallas cheers, holding up her ring finger as she skips over to Nick.

They share one last kiss before she stops recording for the moment.

“Hi, beautiful people in my phone. You might be noticing that it’s later in the day as the sky is dark. I just got out of my pilates class, hence the sweat. I couldn’t vlog because I had to hurry and eat before my test, and then my test ran longer than expected so I had to rush to my workout class. I’m on my way to the sophomore house for dinner. It’s actually one of our last dinners before the school year ends, so that’s kind of sad,” Dallas rants breathlessly, phone capturing her sweaty face and messy updo.

“D!” Multiple hockey boys cheer in unison upon seeing her walk up the driveway.

Baby duke is on the grill and the others are just hanging around.

“Hello, Mrs. Moldenhauer,” Nick grins, pulling her into a hug.

The boy holds onto her camera, so it can film them kissing once again.

“Get a room!” Rutger yells, but comes up to the couple to bring them into a group hug.

“Everyone say hi to Rutger, he’s our son,” Dallas jokes which earns her a playful eye roll from the boy.

Dallas moves away from him, dragging Nick with her inside the house. She takes a look around the surprisingly clean area and the boys who are lounging around.

“Wow! It’s so sparkly in here,” she teases, getting sarcastic laughs in response.

“We knew Mrs. Moldenhauer was coming over and that she’d have our heads if it wasn’t clean,” Luca muses.

“Awww. You all love me,” she gives Luca a tight hug.

“Say hi to the vlog,” she turns the camera to his face.

“Help me, she’s holding me hostage,” Luca screams, making her push him away with a full belly laugh.

She moves with Nick to any empty spot on the couch. She easily falls into his lap with his chin resting on her shoulder.

“It’s time to say bye. I hope you all enjoyed seeing what a day in my life looks like. It’s definitely chaotic, but it’s also comforting. I need to eat and spend time with my family. Bye, have a good night!” Dallas says and blows air kisses to those watching her behind their screens.

a/n: This is a little longer than a blurb, but enjoy!!!

#nick x dallas

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farity · 9 months

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In the Red of Night, part 6

According to Katie and Bailey, no one remotely posh had gone to the shop in the last couple of days, and although the last thing Aemond wanted was to have you out of his safety zone, you insisted that you had to see to your shop.

"It's across the street, Aemond."

"I have a meeting I cannot miss," he said, "but my friend Gendry will be there. You can trust him. He had a close call with a woman very much like Alys a while ago and will defend you to the death, if need be."

Your eyes grew wide, "well, I hope it doesn't come to that."

He showed you pictures of Gendry, including one of him and Aemond sitting together at some fancy function. "As soon as I am done I will be at the shop."

"I will be careful," you said, "I am not taking this lightly."

He nodded. "I know. I will see you later," he kissed you gently, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

* * * * *

"Oh. My. Gods."

You looked at Katie, who was staring at the front of the shop. You followed her gaze and found that Gendry had just walked in, looking around much like Aemond had done that first day.

"Can I help you?"

He looked towards the counter, where Katie was leaning over the register, probably wishing she'd worn something more low-cut.

"Sure," he said easily, "a coffee, black, and a morning bun, please."

Katie beamed at him and he smiled back, then looked at you. "Hello, I'm here for a bit, do you mind if I set up my laptop?"

"No problem, feel free to grab a table, Katie will bring your order over."

As he turned, Katie mouthed I love you to you and began tugging down her shirt to reveal more of her breasts. Poor Gendry, he had no clue what was headed his way.

Your phone buzzed and you grabbed it out of your pocket, smiling when you saw Aemond was checking in. You began replying to his text.

He is here, all is well.

His meeting would go on until almost the end of the day, but he would text you whenever he could.

You went back to the shop kitchen and began prepping the savory pastries you were offering for lunch. Katie was a stellar barista with zero baking talent, but she did go out a lot and would give you ideas of flavor combinations she'd liked, which you would then tweak until you were satisfied. Bailey was a stellar baker and a foodie, and you thought all three of you made a great combination for the shop.

While you waited for the three trays to bake you went through the first lessons from Aemond when it came to vampires.

Garlic, crosses, sunlight, and holy water did absolutely nothing to them.

A stake through the heart worked, but it was best to cut off the head and burn it and the body to be sure.

Never assume the fight is over. Until you get reinforcements or you are 100% sure, you do not let down your guard.

If you think you're being followed, you're probably right.

"Bossy boss!"

Katie''s voice cut through your reverie, and you went back out. "Do we have any of the leek and bacon pastries today?"

A young woman with a tween girl next to her looked at you.

"Yes, they're in the oven actually, should be done in about three minutes."

"You have to try them," the tween girl said to the young woman, "they are so yum!"

"I'm glad you like them," you said, while Gendry casually kept an eye on everyone in the shop. "You want them to take with you or to eat here!"

"Um, both, thank you!" the girl said cheerfully, "two for here and two to go. And that yummy iced chai thing, two please."

The girl turned in a blur of pink and blue hair and the young woman smiled. "Hey, she's eating something with vegetables so I'll encourage it."

"I can ring you up and get those drinks ready," Katie piped up while you headed back into the kitchen to take out the pastries as soon as they were ready.

You left the large tray resting on the counter before plating two of them and boxing up two others, then took everything out to Katie before returning to the kitchen.

* * * * *

Perched on the edge of the table by the back door, sat Alys Rivers, legs crossed, the red soles of her heels showing. She ran her finger through the frosting of a cupcake and tasted it, looking at you the whole time.

"Mmm," she said, a frown marring her perfect features. "Too sweet. Needs a little bitterness to be truly sublime."

Your heart was beating so fast that you knew she could hear it, feel the lure of it like a beacon, but you held on to your phone, pushing on the side button over and over, and tried not to let the terror show on your face. "It sounds like we're not the place for you, then."

Alys smiled, a cruel thing that did not reach her eyes. "Some of us like sweet things to play with," she said, "for a while."

The back door opened and you saw Gendry as he stepped in. "Leave. While you can."

He held a stake in one hand and a wicked-looking knife in the other, and you took the opportunity, as Alys looked him over, to grab one of the stakes that now lived dispersed in the various kitchen drawers. For good measure, you also grabbed a chef's knife.

"I see." Alys glanced back at you, tilted her head. "I still remember the first time Aemond undressed me. Those long, dexterous fingers of his, undoing the back of my gown."

"You should see him do it with his teeth," you snapped, and Alys's eyes flared.

She sighed, got off the table, ran her fingers through her hair. Looking at Gendry, she said, "I think I know who you are. A friend of mine told me about the bastard with the blood of kings in his veins."

"She's dead." Gendry didn't move, but you saw the tremor that ran through Alys's back. "I hate nasty bitches in red."

Alys looked back at you, all pretense gone, her eyes dark as night. "Enjoy the time you have left with him."

She picked up her purse and walked past Gendry, closing the door behind her.

As still as Gendry had been the whole time, he had crossed the kitchen, put his weapons down, and slid his arms under you when your knees gave out in the next moment. "I got you," he whispered. "You were great, sweetheart, the bitch is gone."

* * * * *

Gendry stayed with you at Aemond's place after the shop closed. Even there, he'd gone inside first and gone through every room before he was satisfied that it was safe. "I know he's got top notch security," he said, "but I'm just making sure."

"I appreciate it. I really do."

He gave you a rare smile. "He's done the same for me. Arya and I owe him."

"Arya?"

The lift doors opened and Aemond walked in, nodding to Gendry, and enveloped you in his arms as the other man walked silently into the lift.

"Thank you!" you called out as the doors closed, then wrapped your arms around Aemond's neck. "I'm so glad you are back."

"I will kill her," he muttered against your cheek. "I will tear her apart, limb from limb, and burn every piece of her to ashes."

"Aemond, I'm fine. I'm here." You pulled back just enough to see his eyes blazing with anger. "We're here," you said before you pressed your lips against his.

He lifted you off the ground, pulling you to him as he sat on the sofa. "You have my heart," he whispered, "rotten, dead thing that it is, but you have it."

You pulled on his silver hair to look at him. "You have mine. Frail and human thing that it is. And I'm not letting some spoiled, undead bitch take you from me."

He kissed your neck, holding you tightly. "All you need do is say the word, and we will begin."

You held on, the terror of the day long gone, but aware that there was much more in store.

* * * * *

Aemond opened his eyes.

There was something wrong. He could feel it, taste it, and he immediately turned his head. She was there, sleeping soundly next to him, and he felt some of the tension leave him.

But not all. As quietly as possible, he slipped out of bed, scouring every inch of his bedroom before making his way to the living area.

Even from the top floor, he could see the lights.

Yellow, orange, and red, blazing in the pre-dawn hours as the inferno consumed the coffee shop across the street.

His hands fisted tightly, rage flowing through him.

He'd have to tell her.

Fucking Alys. Damn her to every single one of the seven hells.

He walked back in his bedroom, dreading the moment he'd have to tell the woman he loved that her dream was gone.

* * * * *

She was on the phone with her insurance minutes after she was done talking to the firefighters and cops. All the business information was accessible via her phone, and she took a thousand photographs while she waited for the insurance agent. He spoke to the cops and gave them all the information he had on Alys, which wasn't much other than her name and a screenshot from the last time she'd video called him.

She'd texted her employees, declining when they offered to stop by, and promised them two months' worth of paychecks, which he made a note of to take care of right away.

She didn't linger after the insurance guy left, and calmly accepted his offer to drive her to her house, to get paperwork and clothes. While he drove, she kept texting people, answering emails, and generally carrying on with the business of having lost her business.

Underneath it all, he could sense the grief, the anger, all the emotions coursing through her.

Once at her place, she grabbed the documents she needed, quickly sorted through her clothes and grabbed some more, and was almost out of her bedroom when she stopped.

Above the tiny desk to the side of her bed was a picture. Aemond watched as she peered in and placed a hand over her mouth. He closed the distance between them as she began sobbing and hugged her.

It was a picture of the coffee shop, with her standing out in front proudly holding a set of keys.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She cried for a few minutes while he kissed the top of her head, all his wealth and power useless when her dream had been burned to the ground out of spite.

She wiped at her eyes and looked up at him.

"I'm saying the word. I want to start now, Aemond."

* * * * *

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leftoverenvy · 4 months

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Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 30)

Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades. Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune. The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend. As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur. But money can't buy love, right?

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: smut; sugar baby relationships; age gap (16 years - but all over 18)

Word Count: 3.7k

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @5raysofsunshine 🌮; @reidselle 🦭; @swiftfiles 🐝💚; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @sadgirlml 🌻💌; @hotchs-bitch 🦆 ; @multiverse-mxdness ; @madelineleong ; @scorpsik 🎨 ; @heidss

A/n: Watch out for POV shifting in this chapter!

Chapter 30 - Reconciliation

Indi's POV: I stared at the ceiling, my eyes uncomfortable from the ceiling fan drying them out. It was an insignificant ache compared to the one in my heart. Alone I laid. Aching for Emily's arms. With each whirl of the fan I was reminded of each minute passing without fixing what I had messed up.

My night in the city was horrible. It was unbearable to go to bed knowing I had ruined everything with Emily. And as I laid in my tiny bed in my tiny DC apartment, I couldn't help but be annoyed by the sound. Cars were constantly honking, people shouting at all hours of the night. How had I ever preferred this cacophony of meaningless noise? I missed the peaceful babble of the creek and Emily's soft breathing next to me.

As I continued to watch the fan swirl dust particles above my head, I couldn't help the tears that leaked from the corners of my eyes. How could I have left all of that behind? What did I stand to gain by running back to my old life in DC? But Emily was gone. She didn't stop me; she wanted me gone. I had overstayed my welcome in her life.

This was only supposed to be temporary I reminded myself.

Penelope let me be for the night, asking minimal questions about why I had returned home in shambles and tucking me into bed. The only measure of time was the rotations of the ceiling fan and, hours later, the sun peaking over the horizon. Still, I could not sleep. Penelope snuck around the apartment as she got ready for work, trying not to disturb me. Still, I remained tucked away in my bed staring at nothing.

When Penelope returned home from work, she burst through my door without knocking. "What's wrong?" she demanded. I didn't bother to look away from the ceiling, the evening light catching the crystal on the end of the fan pull, refracting the light. "Seriously. Talk to me. Derek said Emily called in today. Spill it."

A breath caught in the back of my throat. Why should Emily take off work? I didn't dare let myself believe it was because she was just as upset as me. But it hurt to think that she was hurting.

Penelope moved into the room and sat at the edge of my bed. "Indi you cannot stay holed up in your room sulking forever. What happened?"

I sat up, tucking my legs up to my chest and curling my arms around them. I opened my mouth to respond but I had no idea how to explain what happened. I laid my head on my knees and sighed.

"Did she touch you without permission?"

I whipped my head up in horror. "Of course not!"

"Then what? Take your money away?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing like that, Pen."

"Talk to me, Indi. I hate seeing you like this."

"She told me she loved me," I started.

"And that's bad because…?"

I sighed. "It isn't like how the tabloids have been showing it. This was all just supposed to be a way to get through school. I wasn't supposed to…" I trailed off unsure how much to share.

"You fell for her."

"Bad. I just don't belong in her world," I lamented. "I'm not good for her. And now she's never going to know how I feel because I left all because of a stupid car."

Penelope crinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "You lost me…"

"My car died. And Emily took care of everything. Like, she had it towed and had a mechanic look at it. And it was so so sweet of her. I was just so stressed about paying that bill so I was already on edge," I said without taking a breath. "And then when I got home from school yesterday, Emily had already bought me a brand new fucking Audi. Can you believe that? She's just throwing tens of thousands of dollars away, spending that kind of money on me without a second thought."

I paused, trying to figure out why this had been such an issue for me at all. "I just got overwhelmed. I'm not worth it, ya know? And I just got trapped in my head. Because how could Emily, perfect Emily, want anything to do with me? I'm-"

"But that isn't for you to decide, is it?" Penelope interrupted. "Shouldn't Emily get to decide what's worth it? To have in her life? To spend money on?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Yes, she should. I just can't fathom why she'd choose me. And I flipped out yesterday."

"Nothing's unfixable, Indi."

Tears leaked out of my eyes, overwhelmed with sadness again. "She didn't come after me, Pen." I pawed angrily at my tears, angry that they revealed how vulnerable I was truly feeling. "She just let me leave because she doesn't want this anymore." It all felt hopeless. Even though Penelope had said anything could be fixed, I just couldn't believe that this could. I'd messed up too badly.

"Did she tell you that?" she asked knowingly.

"She didn't have to." Penelope raised one eyebrow at me.

Before I could respond, Penelope exclaimed, "Wait! If your car died, how did you get here?"

I turned my head to stare at the car key sitting on my bedside table. I laughed dryly at the irony. Four, silver rings of the Audi logo shined back at me mockingly. I reached over and flashed the new key to Penelope.

"You owe Emily one hell of an apology," Penelope joked.

______________________________

Emily's POV: When the garage door closed after Indi, I flopped on the couch in defeat. She wouldn't even look at me as she scurried out of the house, bag in tow. And why should she? I had overstepped. I had scared her by telling her how I felt. We never agreed this was for love. How stupid I was to let my guard down and fall for her. After all, we had agreed what this was from the start. How could I expect her to feel the same for someone sixteen years older than her?

But how could I expect to be the same without her?

I looked around my empty house. She was everywhere; there wasn't a single inch of this place that wasn't marked by her. I thought about how on this very couch, we shared our first kiss, her thighs straddling mine. I let my eyes wander over to the kitchen island where countless times I had picked her up and sat her on the counter because I just couldn't stand to go a second longer without her lips on mine. I stared at the piano imagining all the times she sat there and how beautiful she was when she immersed herself in the music. Now, the only sound was the deafening tick of the clock passing each second she spent speeding away from me back towards her real home.

I couldn't stand to stare at the piano any longer. Just days ago she had sat on that very bench and played a song written for me. I shook my head at how foolish I had been to read more into it than was there. I remembered how mesmerized I had been by her fingers trailing over the keys, and how it led me to trail my own down her body as a thank you.

I stormed out of the room, sick at the memory. Sick at the realization she'd never be mine to touch like that again.

But she followed me like a ghost in my own home. When I laid down to sleep later that evening, I could still smell her on my sheets. I inhaled deeply, trying to absorb as much as I could. I wasn't one to cry, but Indi's absence left me desolate. Tears stained her pillow as I buried my face in it to be as close to her as possible. This was the closest I'd ever get to her again.

I barely slept that night, tossing and turning, mad at everything. Mad at the cold, empty sheets next to me. Mad at the universe for introducing such an angel into my life and then cruelly ripping her away. Mad at the crickets chirping away outside preventing me from falling asleep. Above all else, mad at myself for letting her walk out the door without protest.

All night, I wrestled with what it meant that she left. But she had left in the Audi. Was that her silent message that she'd be back? That she didn't hate me? I didn't dare let myself think it might mean she loved me too. But she left. Of course she wasn't coming back. She got what she wanted; she didn't need me anymore.

My phone ringing startled me awake around 6:15. Groggily, I rolled over to grab it, wondering how I had fallen asleep with such a heavy heart. "Hello?" I mumbled.

"Em!" JJ greeted. It sounded so wrong out of her mouth. She didn't say it right. It wasn't sweet like when Indi said it. It almost sounded condescending, even as a greeting at six in the morning. "We have a case."

I groaned, flopped on my back and put my hand over my eyes. No no no. I couldn't leave the state now. I had to make sure India was sure in her decision. Not to mention, I'd be absolutely useless right now. "No," I whispered. "I can't make this one. I'll call Hotch to tell him."

"What's wrong?" she asked. My skin crawled at the entitlement in her voice – like she deserved to know anything about my personal life.

"Nothing, JJ," I sighed. "Just leave it alone."

"I know something's wrong." Her voice softened, "You can talk to me; I'm still always here for you."

To shuffle her off the phone, I placated her, "Thanks, JJ. I'll keep that in mind."

"Is it her?" she asked with distaste. I refused to answer. "Look, we all went along with this for a while because you seemed happy. But what are you doing? You should be with someone a little more appropriate…you know, for your age."

A tear leaked from the corner of my eye. I know, I thought. Because India deserved someone who wasn't always jet setting across the country, someone who wasn't near two decades older than her. But there wasn't anyone better suited for me.

Changing the subject to avoid any further conversation with JJ, I reminded her, "I'll tell Hotch I'm calling out for this case," and hung up before she had a chance to say anything else.

I quickly sent a text to Hotch: Need time off. Calling out for this case.

It wouldn't have been unfair for him to question why, but I was thankful when he sent a simple: OK. I'm here for anything you may need.

I exhaled a sigh of relief. I tried to fall back asleep, but was incapable of shutting my mind off. Was it a mistake to call out? What if India didn't come back? Was I just supposed to call out the rest of my life waiting for her to love me back?

I laid in bed another forty-five minutes waiting for sleep to claim me again. I squeezed my eyes closed tightly, begging my mind to shut down long enough to get some sleep. But the harder I tried to quiet my thoughts, the more insistent they became.

I had to do something – anything – to distract my mind. I rolled out of bed and wandered into my office to draw. I grabbed my favorite sketchbook and pencil set. Immediately, my hand started flying over the page. Quick, dark, angry lines. I filled page after page of a dark horizon, storm clouds looming large over a tree line. I flipped to a clean page, begging myself to draw something less dramatic.

I considered drawing Indi, but I thought seeing her face looking back at mine, even if just a sketch, would hurt too badly. I sighed and set the pencil down. Sketching wasn't going to cut it today. I needed an outlet for this boiling anger inside me. I quickly tied my hair back, grabbed my gun and left for Quantico. I needed to hit the range.

Once I got there, I tried to sneak in the side door, curious if the team had left or if I'd run into them in the building. That would be horribly awkward to explain.

Once I made it to the shooting range safely, I clipped a paper target up and slid it back into place. The lingering smell of gunpowder was calming, familiar. I widened my stance, and lifted my gun, rapidly firing several rounds in a row. Before I knew it, I had emptied my clip into the chest of the target.

I fired bullet after bullet and loaded clip after clip, tearing the paper target to shreds. But none of my anger faded.

Who was I really angry with? When I tried to parse it out, I realized I wasn't angry at all. I was devastatingly, crushingly hurt. Was my love so repugnant that India would rather leave than be loved by me? Is that why everyone in my life always ended up leaving?

Of all the heartbreak I had had, none hurt like this. It was as if when she packed up her belongings, she reached in my chest and took my heart with her. It didn't matter though, because everything I had – everything I was – was India. Whether she returned my affection or not didn't matter. I would never love anyone like I did India Mae Banks.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Hopeful it was Indi, I nearly dropped my gun to empty my hands as quickly as possible. Disappointment crashed over me when I saw it wasn't Indi calling, but my mother. I considered sending it to voicemail. After all, how could I possibly endure a conversation with JJ and my mother in the same day? Ultimately, I thought a small part of me wanted to talk to my mother. I longed to have that close relationship where we could talk about things like this.

"Hi, mom," I answered softly.

"Emily! It's wonderful to hear from you. How have you been?"

"I'm well," I lied. "And you?"

"All good, not much is new, I'm afraid. How are things with India?"

My breath caught in the back of my throat, tears welling in my eyes at just thinking about talking about her. "Uh, well." I bit at my nail, residue of gun powder bitter on my tongue. "She's…"

"What's wrong?" she asked gently.

"I guess we've just run our course," I lamented. I couldn't get into it all because I refused to tell my mother India had just been a ruse to prevent her from nagging me about being single.

"Oh I doubt that very much. You two looked so in love the last time I saw you." My eyebrows raised in surprise. She had been incredibly unpleasant the entire evening of the gallery opening. I had thought she hated Indi based on the age gap alone. "Emily, I know you probably won't really tell me what's going on – you've always been so closed off. But if she's important, don't let your walls and pride become a barrier to you patching things up.

"You have a hard job," she continued. "You always have. You deserve whoever makes you happy."

Tears streamed down my face. "I don't deserve her," I whispered.

"Do you wonder if she feels the same? Emily, we come from money, status. You're a beautiful and intelligent woman." My thoughts reeled. My mother had never had a kind word to say, preferring to highlight all my shortcomings as a daughter, instead. "Isn't it possible she thinks she isn't good for you?"

"I'll think about it, okay?"

"Don't think about it too long, or you'll lose the one you love."

When she disconnected the call, my heart was pounding in my chest. Could Indi be feeling as insecure as me? As much as I hated to admit it, my mother was right: I needed to put my pride aside. I couldn't give up so easily, sulking alone and feeling sorry for myself. I had to give it one more shot; I had pouted long enough. I wouldn't let her leave us behind like this. This wouldn't be the end of us – we were too special to end like this. I wouldn't let us fizzle out all because I was too proud to ask how she felt about us. I quickly cleaned my gun and re-holstered it, eager to get into the city.

I scrolled through India and I's first messages to confirm her old address, silently praying she did actually go back to her old apartment. Once I punched it into the GPS, I peeled out of the parking lot. Please be home. When I parked, I practically ran up to her door, cursing myself for not rehearsing the best way to apologize to her. Before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked three times.

______________________________

Indi's POV: "Just go back, Indi," Penelope encouraged.

"I can't!" I whined. "She probably hates me now. I left after she told me she loved me."

"I guarantee you she doesn't hate you."

Petulantly, I asked, "How would you know?"

"Because!" she huffed. "Derek talks about what a change he's seen in Emily. You don't know how she was at work and how she is now. He said she just lights up when she's texting now. No doubt that's because of you."

Butterflies fluttered lightly in my abdomen. Could it be true? I snapped back to reality. "But that was before!" More softly, "I've ruined that now."

"At least call her," Penelope tried again. She had been trying for an hour to get me to reach out to Emily, gently reminding me how stupid I had been.

"What would I even say? I messed up so bad."

"Tell her how you feel. Tell her-" Three quick knocks interrupted Penelope.

I quirked an eyebrow at her. "Who's that?"

Excitement lit Penelope's eyes. "I have a hunch," she said knowingly. A confusing melange of emotions welled up inside me. Excitement that it could be Emily coming to fix things. Dread that it could be Emily returning my belongings. Anticipated disappointment that it wasn't Emily at all. I smoothed my frizzy curls down and tucked stray hairs behind my ears, certain my hair looked wretched after laying in bed all day. "Get it," she hissed, gesturing to the door.

Before my nerves could talk myself out of it, I pulled the door open, gasping at seeing Emily. For a moment, we just stared at each other, drinking the other in. My heart clenched at seeing her; she was so beautiful. I wouldn't survive hearing her tell me this was over. I looked down, begging my eyes to stay dry.

"I'm sorry!" we blurted at the same time. I wrinkled my brows in confusion.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" I asked.

"It was too much. I didn't mean to overwhelm you. And I didn't think about how a big purchase would make you feel." I couldn't say anything, overwhelmed by her extending a peace offering, by giving me a second chance. "I'm also sorry for telling you I loved you. We haven't talked enough about our relationship for that to have been fair to just spring on you."

I chuckled ruefully. Emily Prentiss was truly the perfect woman and there wasn't even a small part of me that deserved her. Before I dove in head first, I needed to try one more time to get her to see that she deserved so much more than me. I couldn't help it. I knew that I wouldn't be able to give her up a second time. "You're too good for me, Emily. I don't belong with you. You're so perfect, and I'm just…not," I finished lamely. "I'm so flawed. What could you possibly want with me?"

She cupped my face, a gentle smiling playing at her lips. "Baby, I know you're not perfect. But you're perfect for me. And I want it all with you. I need you." She looked deeply in my eyes, begging me to understand. "Please come home."

The way she said 'come home' broke my heart. So achingly sweet and desolate. A tear escaped, and she swiped it gently with her thumb. Maybe it was possible she needed me as much as I needed her.

All I had ever wanted was home, and Emily had become home for me. I fled Washington trying to escape memories of home and family so brutally taken from me, but I'd been so unhappy in DC without home or family. Then I had found both in Emily, and by some miracle, I hadn't ruined it. She still wanted it too. "Yes," I agreed.

An enormous smile slowly spread across her face, showing her perfect teeth. It made my heart skip a beat, how astonishingly beautiful she was. "Yeah?" she asked incredulously.

I pulled her face down to mine for a kiss, silently promising my future to her. She tried to deepen it, her smile preventing her from succeeding. I pulled back, breaking our kiss. "No," she whined, pressing her lips back to mine, her hand wrapping around my waist to pull me closer.

"Wait," I said arching my back slightly over her arm so I could look deeply in her eyes. "I love you, too." If it were possible, her smile grew even wider. "I love you so much, Emily Prentiss." She pressed her forehead against mine and sighed deeply. I wrapped my arms around her neck. "And I'm so sorry. I won't run again. I'm so sorry I left. I love you, Em."

She started kissing me in earnest, pushing me back against the door jamb. Her hands kneaded at my hips, pulling me tightly against her as her tongue laved at mine. "I'm so sorry, angel," she whispered between kisses. "Please don't leave again."

My heart broke at her request. "I swear, babe. Never again," I whispered against her lips.

Continue to next chapter

#🌬 fics #tastes like sugar #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #wlw writing

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ramayantika · 1 year

Text

Sakhi bring me a spare parchment,

I need to write to my daughter.

"Which daughter? You sent your children far away."

My eyes shine once again,

As they once did years back when I was nothing but a young girl

Who frolicked in the courtyard of the temple.

"Not them, sakhi. A daughter shall live

Who shall dance like me,

But she shall be free.

Free like how art should have been.

I see her in my dreams as she sweetly calls me 'amma'

And her feet? They always look red.

I hear her jingling ankle bells!

She sings, dances and dreams,

But fulfills her dreams unlike her mother.

I am tied. I was tied. I am going to be free soon.

My daughter is free."

And my dearest friend hands me a worn down parchment.

There is not much strength left in my hands, my pen is trembling.

However, I must write today

And let the ink dance on the parchment

For this is a dancer's story.

Which shall soon be forgotten by the world.

The world which once adored her,

Considered her auspicious, made her a goddess,

The same world made her a prostitute.

My art, my dance is now impure.

They made me dance for Shiva, and

I revered Nataraja

And now his dance is impure. Is the said God too?

Who is impure truthfully?

Dearest daughter,

I have seen you in my dreams, seen you dance.

Your two lovely agile feet capture movements so fast,

Your enchanting eyes look around everywhere, examining each thing in detail.

Observation, a skill essential for dance,

For we are storytellers and actors

And stories are found everywhere.

Look around and learn.

The world dances, you must too.

You have grown up into such a lovely woman, dearest one.

I am your mother, the mother with a tainted history

Who has nothing to bless you with

But dance, my story and wishes for

A life where you are free.

I can feel my breath turning heavy,

My vision is slowly blurring out.

Don't worry, your mother has spun

A hundred times in this glorious temple

For Him, for them, and seldomly for herself.

I can focus on the parchment for a little while longer perhaps?

Child, learn to dance for yourself too.

My beauty once praised is long lost. The jewels underneath my bed

Cannot cure me of this disease.

I have to die. I am going to my husband

As the people tell -- Shiva is my final destination.

The dance in this mortal plain has bound me,

With Shiva, I am to dance in gay abandon.

I have worshipped the gods through dance.

Shuddha Nrityam they call it,

I wish people looked at me with shuddha drishti.

I am mere seconds away now

Before the noose of Yama lands on me.

My lovely daughter, I hope your time shall be different.

I was doomed to live in the darkest chapter of nritya,

But joy shall adorn my heart when you find me.

People shall label me tainted, a very sensual woman, woman of lust,

But who taints me? What taints me?

This body which shall now perish

Holds no longer the burning lecherous gaze of lustful men.

My eyes do not see the people trying to purify me.

My ears no longer hear degraded hushed whispers of how this flesh has been touched my many.

My lips only speak your name.

I wish you were here, my child.

Let me see you once again before I depart for Shiva's abode.

Ah! Right there you are!

You were hiding from me for so long.

Don't you cry once my pen stops for,

Amma is always with you, silently watching you, silently protecting you,

Silently teaching you dance.

Find me soon, child... I hope you find me in my true form.

Be blessed! May you dance always!

Om Shanti....

********

I will post the daughter's reply to this piece ater. Now just for some context, I had written this piece I think in 2021 when I had stumbled on this topic while watching some dance documentaries. I looked through every video, read books about these hereditary dances, and did some research about the injustice meted out to them in the name of reforms and purity which ultimately had almost led the glorious dance forms of india to extinction and I had various questions, I still think I do. These women who were once rich, had their own lands and money, they were independent and well versed in various subjects apart from music and dance were now reduced to prostitution and called names.

Somewhere as I read more about them I wondered what connected us apart from the dance form. I think freedom? Maybe knowledge? The knowledge that we need to undertake as we learn dance because we don't only just copy off the movements that we learn in class.

And one night it struck me somehow. I still remember that night. I was studying for my 12th boards term 1 exam that was 2 months away I guess and it was very late at night and I kinda dozed off where I almost an epiphany like thing over this. I couldn't stop myself from writing this down. For me every artistic work, be it writing or dancing, no matter how large or small the job is, I always meditate for a while and then begin. For me whatever little experience I have had with art, it is an expression of the divine, it feels magical and is like a thread that connects me to the past and the present.

This topic is controversial. There can be countless debates over this and I am really not good with the political side of things. This piece is something from my heart as a small tribute to the endless amount of women who served dance and sustained it for as long as they could to be passed on to us even today.

#samridhi writes #danceblr #poetry #indian poetry #dance poems

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women-writings · 11 months

Text

Warnings: mentions of death, panic attacks, hospitals

Wandaxreader, natashaxdaughter!reader

——————————————————————————-

I screamed.

I screamed so loud I swear I could feel my vocal cords ripping apart in my throat

My voice turning soar as a Demond crawled from my body through a wretched sound

A scream so loud I could hear my glass heart shatter

A scream field by so many years of pain and loss until I finally snapped

I could fall to the ground and die right now and it wouldn’t matter

There is so much rage I couldn’t dig my nails deep enough into my palm

So much fear I couldn’t clench my teddys and harder

So very much loss and grief I cannot find the feeling of myself in the black hole within my body

I had lost her the last important person in my life

The only person who was there for me that I will always unconditionally love

My mother the woman who raised me and loved me no matter what happen

The woman who cleaned my scars

Kisses my bruises and held my hand

I can’t describe how the loss of her feel all I can do is scream

“KILL ME! KILL ME PLEASE I HAVE NOTHING I CANT FEEL!”

I feel everything and nothing and I would slam my head through a glass mirror and rip my skin off starting at my toes all the way up to my eyes

My heart. I would grab it and dig my nails into it until it exploded and stoped beating a bloody bath being left behind

Before I would feel this again

Oh my god the misery my mom

My greatest love in this lifetime

Gone forever

My knees slam against the ground a loud crack

My ears ringing vision blurring in and out

Oh god if only this could be the end

Please god take me under the earth bury me beneath the grass and dirt and all the flowers that have bloomed beside my mothers grave we didn’t have her body to bury in

If god is real he will have mercy and just kill me

And if god wasn’t merciful even the devil himself I would ask to take me

Anywhere but here kill me end it all oh god please

Not my mother not her anyone but her

My chest tightens and I can’t seem to take a breath in I feel hands on me but there hot and burn like fire

I can’t see all I can feel is escrucciating burning all over me

Lights bluring into starts

I’m not sure if the sounds I’m making are screams, sobs or if I’m being completely silent

But the last thing I feel is smoothing warm go down my face my vision turning red as it all goes black silence engulfing me

————————————————————

“We need an oxygen mast now!”

Silent ringing and loud beeping is all I can hear

I feel a cloud over my head

My soul lifting from my body as my heart clings on trying to not let my soul leave my body

A voice whispers in my ear

“My love please…. Hang on please”

My mothers voice.

But she’s gone I’m- gone? Arnt I

This is it this is the end

God has had mercy on my soul and ended my misery I can be with my mom

“Baby! Please no it’s not your time please”

My mothers sob is muffled and I feel warm heat spread across my body followed by a cold chill

Oh god I’m so cold

I hear a long beep and feel myself sigh of relief. It's done. I'm gone, it's over this grief, this pain!

“Detka please I love you so much! Please don’t do this open your eyes please!”

I feel a huge wave of air like the strongest wind of a hurricane and my lungs burn as I gasp a breath

My eyes open…

A hospital room is around me three doctors standing beside me looking like they just fought in a war of life and death

I blink a couple times looking around the room a pounding pain in my head when arms wrap around me

They're familiar it’s Wanda.

I sob turning into her chest “she spoke to me mama she talked to me!”

I feel my hair being soothed and Wanda quieting me

“Shh take a breath… rest please” she kisses the side of my head and I feel her lips wobble

I grab her hand as tightly as I can her being the only thing connecting me to my lifeline

I feel my chest rise and fall with my breaths and close my eyes my eyelids being to heavy to hold open sleep engulfing me

Today is not my day…

#natasha x daughter!reader #wanda x reader #grief #near death experience #physical affection

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alltheworldsinmyhead · 2 years

Photo

read on ao3

Kaz is drunk.

He cannot remember the last time he was drunk, but he is now, without any doubt; the room is swaying slightly in front of his eyes, objects swimming in the buttery glow of the chandelier above his head.

He leans against the back of his chair and groans.

Inej just sends him an amused smile from the opposite side of the table. She fills her glass with clear Ravkan vodka and takes a shot with her head thrown back. Kaz tries to focus his eyes on the exposed line of her bare throat, on how it moves when she swallows.

The bottle is almost empty. He could swear she drank twice as much as he did, and yet she still looks sober, at least compared to him. Her speech is not slurred, her hands as steady as always.

But her laughter comes easier, flowing out of her now and then in quiet bursts of giggling.

“How do you hold your liquor so well?” he asks, hoping that the words he intends to utter are the same as the ones that actually come out of his mouth. There is a strange buzzing in his ears. “You’re so – tiny.”

Inej reaches out and snatches a sugared orange slice from the bowl on her left. Jesper brought them a whole box today, along with the bottle of vodka that now stands empty. Why did he do that? What was the occasion?

Ah.

Their anniversary.

“I grew up in Ravka.” She munches on the fruit happily. Kaz spots a couple of sugar crystals sticking to her lower lip, and he has to snatch the wrist of his left hand with his right so as not to reach out and brush them off. “With a whole lot of older cousins. And then I got plenty of practice. I was better at my job after Heleen poured a couple of shots of something strong in me.”

A funny thing had happened throughout their first year together: Kaz started to forget.

He started to forget where they first met each other. The purple rags, fake jewelry, heavy kohl around her eyes – they all blurred in his memory. He would see her stretching in the garden, reading in the library, making tea in the kitchen. He would see her in his office at night, a cat on her lap, hair braided. And it would be as if she had always been there, from the very first moment he’d stepped through the threshold himself.

And then they would get ready to go to some social outing, and Inej would float down the stars in a breeze of lace and curls and diamonds, her gowns as eye-catching as possible, and the bubble would burst. She was the beautiful Suli Lynx on his arm once again, nothing more.

She pours the last bit of alcohol into her glass and takes only a sip, washing away the remaining sugar glaze. Kaz doesn’t know what possesses him to do what he does next.

“A truth for a truth, Inej?”

Her brow shoots up. “I don’t think you really want to spill your secrets now.” She gestures at how he’s sitting, barely upright and disheveled, colarless. “But as you wish.”

She gulps down the rest of vodka in her glass and leans towards him with her elbows on the table. Her eyes glimmer, and something hot crawls down Kaz’s spine.

She doesn’t look drunk. Just dangerous.

“Where are you from, Kaz? Truly. Spare me the ‘my mother is Ketterdam, my father is profit’ bullshit, Jesper told me all about it.”

Kaz almost groans. When he was young and stupid, he used to spew such cocky buffoonery easier than breathing – but then, Jesper hadn’t been much better.

“Did he tell you about his stupid fucking pick-up lines? He better be thankful he’s handsome. He was going around the Barrel calling himself a ‘love doctor’ and promising to mend all aches with his magic cock.”

Inej almost snorts with laughter at that, but manages to school her features into composure. “We are not talking about Jesper. We are talking about you. Where are you from, Kaz?”

The room continues swaying. Inej is swathed in the same hazy, golden glow as the rest of his vision. She looks so fucking beautiful with her hair in a braid. For the thousandth time, Kaz imagines how it would feel to take hold of it and unweave the strands, letting them spill through his fingers.

“Do you really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t, would I?”

It was all so long ago. Kaz closes his eyes. He cannot look at her when he’s speaking; she’s too distracting.

“I was born near Lij,” he says at last, the name of the town as strange in his mouth as if he were speaking a foreign language. “It’s a farming town in the countryside. We had a farm. It was my Da’s farm, and before him, his Da’s, and his Da’s, and twelve fucking generations down further.”

When he opens his eyes, Inej is watching him in silence, her mouth slightly parted.

“So you were a farm boy.”

“A farm boy indeed.”

“It was only you and your father?”

He shakes his head. “A truth for a truth, Inej. You have already used up your question.”

He cannot have her asking him about Jordie. Not when Jordie has been quiet in his head for so long. Not when she is so beautiful and watches him with such soft eyes. “My turn.”

She shakes her head slightly with a sigh. “Go ahead then.”

Kaz knows it’s a mistake before he even opens his mouth to speak. But he is just so curious, the curiosity burning underneath his skin, drumming in his bones. He hasn’t felt such a desire to know something – to possess knowledge just for the sake of knowing – in so, so long. It’s irresistible.

He knows it will hurt her. He asks her anyway.

“Why don’t you pray anymore?”

The smile slides off her face like a splatter of blood from the wall.

She blinks slowly, straightening to lean against the back of her chair. “You really want to know?”

It’s a chance to back off. To stop twisting this knife.

Curiosity burns his insides like vodka.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know, dear.”

----------- read more on ao3 -----------------

#kanej #kanej fic #kanej fanfiction #soc #six of crows #soc fic #six of crows fanfiction

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oneofthosesimps · 3 years

Text

Dance With The Devil

pairing: sukuna x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 3286

summary: sukuna's wish is a new heir and you are the perfect vessel for it

warnings: mention of blood, rough sex, dirtytalk, breeding kink, hurt, angst, swearing, sub x dom, dumbification, size kink (like sukuna is a monster and you are small and petite), belly bulge, lactation/ milk kink (i guess)

authors note: sukuna is the perfect canidate to realise my really dark and deep fantasies, which is why he'll be around more often now (he's also SO hot omg)

all credits to the artist of this pic:

xquesess

-----

You let yourself fall against the big, strong body behind you. Your hot skin meets cold flesh and you close your eyes at the pleasure of the small cooling. You feel as if your body is on fire. No, as if the whole room is on fire.

"Eyes open, little human," his deep voice vibrates against your back and your eyelids flutter open instantly. You see his wide grin above you and you groan as his grip on your hips tightens and he holds you in place above him. You see the dark shadows his huge hands have left on your thighs and waist.

"I'm tired," you moan and rest your head on the back of your neck, closing your eyes again. The sun of the night has long since taken its place in the sky and casts its bright rays into the small room, bathing you and Sukuna in them. One of his hands grips your neck and straightens your head. Your eyes open again. "We are far from finished, so keep your eyes open," he murmurs against your ear, "If I have to ask you again, I will break your neck." A shiver runs down your spine and despite your heated body, goose bumps cover you. A little fear mixes into your bloodstream and makes your heart pump harder and stronger in your chest.

"And I would hate to do that. It's rare to find something like you". You moan loudly as his lips settle on your neck and he lets you sink lower on top of him. The sensation mingles with the pain of his teeth digging into your neck. His teeth break through the skin and you slightly wrinkle your face before he licks over the slightly bleeding area. You hear a soft murmur as his tongue collects a drop of blood and it disappears into his mouth.

"You think it's that easy to get you pregnant, little human?" His fat, monstrous cock bores painfully deep and you whimper. His grin widens even more and his teeth flash. You make a grimace as he shoves himself too deep inside you and touches your cervix, pressing against it. Your image blurs slightly and thick tears roll down your cheek. The hand around your neck loosens and he wipes them away, his nails scraping lightly over your soft skin.

"Don't cry, little one. You're doing so well. No being has lasted this long before," he murmurs as more tears come, which he wipes away, “They all cracked on me before I ripped their hearts out of their chests. But you are different, you don't make me bored.”

"You're so big," you moan and your legs begin to tremble as he lowers you all the way on top of him and your little cunt swallows his cock whole. Your insides tear and burn. You feel as if your soft walls are being overstretched by his hard length. "No, you're just far too tight and small."

The hand on your hip moves to your belly and caresses it. "Look at this: My cock just barely fits inside you". Your tired eyes catch your gaze in the mirror opposite you. Sukuna has set you down on your bed specifically so that you can watch yourself- so that you can watch him fuck your belly round. You look at your reflection in the mirror. Your small, petite body is sitting on Sukuna's lap, your legs glistening with wetness close to your core, hang splayed in the air over his knees, giving you a perfect view of your cunt and your head leaning just below his chest. It looks ridiculous. You look like a little doll compared to his gigantic body.

His white teeth and red-pink eyes sparkle at you as he wraps his strong arms around you. The moon from outside gives an even stronger contrast between light skin and deep black tattoos and his veins snake along his muscular body. There is a distinct, long bulge on your belly that starts above your cunt and ends just below your belly button. Your face looks up at him in shock and he laughs softly again, "Didn't I tell you?" His hand strokes the bulge and massages it, making you moan. "Doesn't it look good when I'm this deep inside you and your belly is bulging."

His hands go around your waist again and he starts to lift your body up. His cock pulls out of you, leaving him almost white, coating him in a mix of your juices and his. A loud moan comes deep from your body and your hands claw into his thighs. Your body is overwhelmed with exhaustion mixed with pleasure and pain - a diabolical one. Your cunt feels sore from the many times you have come and now his way too big cock doesn’t make it better.

"I can't take any more," you sigh, but Sukuna overhears your words, pressing himself back into you to the hilt.

"Yes, you can. You must, little human." At the stimulation inside you, your eyes turn and your body trembles slightly, "I will pump your cunt full again. This time, I will breed you."

His eyes fall on your face in the mirror. You look so beautiful in the moonlight. Your lips are slightly parted, your eyes slightly closed and there is a deep blush on your cheeks. His gaze travels over your small body in his hands, your nipples standing hard from you, the dark marks on your body, your slender waist that he can so easily break if he squeezes too hard. His eyes drop to where you are joined and a dark sound comes from his throat. "Look at how greedy your cunt is. And that's after you've come so many times today," he grins widely and digs his nails into your flesh, "You're lying, little one. You want more, don't you?" Sukuna changes the angle and presses against every sensitive spot inside you. Your back pushes through and you try to gasp for air and not pass out as he moves inside you with ease. His arms hold you close to him as he closes his eyes in pleasure and rests his head back.

He increases the speed and you whimper loudly, moaning his name. His head rises and his gaze falls on you again, "You want more of my juice. You want my babies." With hard thrusts he presses into you, over and over and you scream sinfully. Your nails pull at his skin, leaving deep marks.

"Too much, too much," you scream, tears running down your cheeks again. Your whole body feels sticky from your sweat, tears and his juice, some of which shimmers on you. Sukuna rams his lower body against you without even being out of breath. His endurance is incomparable. His strength is incomparable. He could and would do anything to you, if only you weren't so damn fragile. Your body is on fire, your nerves are tingling and your lower body is radiating a pleasantly warm feeling that cannot be put into words. It is getting stronger and stronger and you feel the need to help yourself with your own hands to come to an end. Your breath and voice become more panting, "I-I'm about to come."

"Silly little human, can't you hold back," he grins, ignoring your whimper and the shaking of your body in his arms. He continues to watch his fat cock disappear inside you, while you spill out and leave a wet spot on the floor. The knot in your stomach grows stronger until it finally loosens and you gasp, floating above it all. You're aware of Sukuna growling behind you as your walls pulse around him, making you tighter than ever. Nothing is as good as the orgasms he gives you, making you high. And as usual, you roar your heart out, preaching his name, before your wings leave you again and your weightless body hits the earth hard. This orgasm and the ones before are not as long and good as your first ones this night. Your pussy needs a rest and you need sleep, but you know you won't get it anytime soon. Your cries and pleas are music to Sukuna's ears and he wants to hear his name from your mouth again and again. You are hyper-sensitive and scream loudly as Sukuna continues and does not stop fucking you. The smacking of your cunt as it sucks his cock inside you mixes with your croaking voice as you wiggle back and forth in his arms, trying to escape his grip, which will always be in vain. Saliva runs down your chin and drips onto the floor.

"And another one," he murmurs in your ear as thick tears run down your cheeks again. "How many times do you think I'm going to make you come tonight?" He licks over the aorta at your neck as your cries slowly subside and fade back into whimpers.

"I can't take any more," you whisper weak.

"That's what you just said," he laughs, and his right hand drops between your legs, lightly caressing your swollen clit. You wiggle wildly back and forth and try to get his hand off you. The sensation is too much and you feel as if you are about to faint as you break apart in his arms. It hurts unpleasantly badly and you can't think straight. He continues stroking until your breathing becomes heavier again and you moan slightly again.

"You know what we're doing this for, don't you, little human?" You gasp for breath as his angle changes slightly again and he presses against your G-spot.

"Tell me, what are we doing this for?"

"I-I ... I ... c-can't..."

"You can't? Of course you can, try a little harder," he smirks and circles your clit harder, pressing against it and your walls twitch, tighten again and it feels like you're crushing him. He moans into your ear. Was there a better feeling than fucking his little human? Probably not. Fucking you silly and stupid was his favourite thing to do.

"Y-You want to ... make me ... pregnant."

"Right, I want to breed you. You are mylittle whore. I'll fill your hole over and over again until your belly is round and fat." You moan at his words.

"You will look so beautiful with my heir in your belly. I can't wait until your tits are dripping with milk in them," he murmurs against your neck, looking at you in the mirror. Your gaze meets his. "I'm going to milk them like your cunt is doing to my cock right now." His nail scrapes lightly across your clit and you explode, this time without warning. His laughter fills the room as you fall against him again and come down from another high.

"And you said you couldn't take any more." His body vibrates with more laughter and you close your eyes, much to his displeasure. He sighs and looks down at you, clearly seeing your exhaustion, while your breath changes and the wrinkles on your forehead smooth out. His thrusts stop and he licks his lips. His hand drops to your cheek and caresses it lightly. If his heart wasn't dead and cold, it would be doing a little leap right now.

Sukuna has long since ceased to understand the emotions felt by those around him; his time as a human was too long ago for that. But he sees in you how one behaves when one is in love, when one would do anything for someone, and he thinks he feels that for you, even if he cannot express or name it. No one has ever lived by his side for so long. Any other person would have been killed and replaced by him by now.

He lays you down on the bed behind him and examines your skin, which is covered with numerous wounds. His hand strokes your thigh, his nails scratch your body and he bends over you.

His eyes caress your face. Your hair is slightly sweaty on your forehead, the lashes of your closed eyes cast shadows on your cheeks and your full lips are red and swollen. His thumb strokes your cheekbone before his flat hand slaps lightly against your cheek. With a shock you wake up and look at him. He grins broadly, "You're lucky it's you, that's why I'm not breaking your bones. I’d think you were too bored and I wasn't challenging you enough." His left hand on your thigh wraps your leg around his waist and his cock pushes between the lips of your pussy, spreading them wide and he pushes into you again. You whimper under him and squirm slightly.

"Mmm, are you bored? Am I not fucking you enough?" You stare at him, startled, and shake your head before your back pushes through to him and you moan. He picks up his pace from a moment ago, burying himself inside you. His eyes rest hungrily on your tits, which jiggle up and down in front of him. He licks his lips before lowering his head and his mouth wraps around your left nipple. You moan louder as he sucks hard and his tongue plays around it. He looks up at you, "I'm so happy when they're heavy and full of milk. I'm going to suck on your tits and drink it. You will taste so good." You roll your eyes at his words, your hands reach into the sheet beneath you and you claw into it. He bites your nipple far too hard before releasing it with a plop. Your dry voice croaks more than you cry out and you pull at the sheet to get rid of your pain - unsuccessfully.

"Su-Sukuna...," you sigh loudly at his hand around your leg tightening. He holds his face right above yours and four eyes look at you, examine your reaction as he fucks you in the mattress. It's time for him to finish this round.

"I'm filling you now, little human," he murmurs and hot breath sprays around your already overheated face.

A deep thrust and he presses against your cervix again. Your lips open and your eyes turn back. He laughs softly, "You look so terribly stupid and pathetic. There's probably nothing left of your already small brain." Your head doesn't notice his words, you are far too drained. His laughter turns into a grin again. The hand around your leg loosens and he places his thumb on your clit.

Another deep thrust and your insides are on fire with pain. Your tongue drops out of your mouth. "You're not making it any better, little one. If you could see yourself now," he collects the saliva in his mouth and spits on your tongue. Some of it misses and runs down your chin, "You're no good for anything else. You are forever my breeding machine, producing baby after baby." He bares his teeth and stares at your face and you try to hold his gaze as moans escape you again and again. "You'll spend your whole life just waddling around, thick and round, while we hang on your tits like a calf on its mother's teats." His thumb on your clit starts rubbing it. The pressure is strong and you go crazy inside. Your whole body is screaming at you, begging you to come, but its speed is wisely chosen. You are drifting in a dilemma of coming and not coming and it is draining you to your soul. You are always just before it, but you do not cross the line.

Another deep thrust and he growls low and wicked. A knot forms in his stomach and he becomes even more brutal. He has to hold back or he'll fuck you bleeding. "And you know what? You're going to look so beautiful. I can't wait to fuck you like this when you're pregnant. I'll press another baby next to the other one." He bares his teeth again and his eyes blaze, his red eyes are like rubies. His right hand grips your neck and squeezes it shut. He forces you to look him right in the face and you blink, slight panic forming in your body and your milky eyes clear again.

"Tell me how much you want to be pumped full of my seed. Tell me who your god is, pathetic human." Your hands clasp his broad wrist and a wide grin settles over his face. How he loves to see you fear for your life. How he loves to see how much he has you in his grasp.

"Sukuna..." you whisper.

“Present again? Is there anything other than hot air in your head?” His nails on your neck are digging into it, drops of blood begin to run from some wounds. The sight was so beautiful. The power he has over you makes the blood run out of your body - how he would love to lick it away.

You grip his wrist tighter and your eyes wander back and forth between his, “Su-Sukuna, please…”

"What, please? Use your words." The red of his eyes are now only narrow rings. His pupils have exploded and he stares at you like a madman - as if you were his next victim.

Your croaky voice is now also muffled by the pressure on your neck. You feel as if you have forgotten how to speak. You try to clear your throat, but it doesn't work.

"Y-you are my God ... I live for you ... only you ...", his grin widens more, as you squeeze out the words and formulate a sentence with the greatest effort. "I worship you, only you. I love and adore you." His grip tightens even more and you feel as if your eyes are going to pop out of your head. The blood rushes in your ears, you see single dark stars in front of your eyes, while he rocks your body. Your nails dig into his skin and you try with all your might to draw air into your lungs. Please do not kill me.

"I-I love you so much … I will give you as many heirs as you want … Only please... S-Sukuna...," you croak, and he groans loudly. Tears form in your eyes as his hand does not loosen. Your neck hurts from the wounds and the pressure. You stare at him in fear and beg him inwardly to spare your life. In a millisecond his gaze changes again while he looks at you and his hand loosens. He presses painfully against your clit. Life flows back into your body and mixes with the feeling between your legs, taking you over the edge, your weak body exploding again.

Another thrust, deep and hard, and he comes, his cock pumping his balls empty, filling you to the top. He moans loudly, murmurs your name and puts his hands behind his head, “Fuck, one day, I will break you and you will love it.” As usual, his juice is far too much and immediately runs out the sides before he has even finished coming. You feel his cock twitching inside you as your eyes fall shut and your body relaxes completely.

Sukuna looks down at you, eyeing his work - he is quite pleased with himself. He looks at your connection and mourns the seeds that have flowed out of you. Staying buried in you so that the rest stays stuffed inside you his soft voice echoes through the room but you no longer hear it, "A short break for you before we start again, little love."

#sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk smut #jjk

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lillianastras · 3 years

Text

“Hit Me With Your Best Shot” -- The Darkling x Reader

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader (no surprise here)

Warnings: none, I think

Summary: The Darkling and his second spar in the morning, after he starts to doubt her abilities have worsened over time.

A/N: I feel so great that I actually used my own experience in martial arts for writing this. Also, I’m so empowered by all the great feedback I’m getting from you guys. If anyone has requests, please send those my way!

“Rule number one,” he says, “Only take a break after saying you need a break. Otherwise I won’t know and will wipe the ground with you.” Her eyebrows shoot up and he has to fight a smile, glad he caused the reaction. “Rule number two,” he continues, hands behind his back, his wrists wrapped in cloths, to numb the harshness of his blows. “No Small Science. Whatever you do to me, you do it with your own two hands.” “That was just plain filthy.”

This time Aleksander grits his teeth, not appreciating the interruption. She is standing in the middle of the training grounds, arms crossed in front of her chest, the same irritated expression on her face since she had woken up. He could tell she was looking around, looking for an opportunity, an excuse to leave. Yet, there is little chance that anyone else is up this early, except by the pair of guards by the gate.

“The Drüsskele attacks are getting more aggressive than ever,” he hisses , trying his best not to raise his voice at her. “You need to know how to defend yourself when they hold your hands apart.” It’s not happening again, he thinks. The years have passed, but even time didn’t manage to blur the memory of Luda bleeding out on the ground. “I know how to defend myself!” She hisses back, and the Darkling gives her a cold stare.

“Ivan said he managed to tackle you to the ground several times yesterday.”

Her lips curl in disdain, but not for Ivan, he knows. She likes the Heartrender probably as much as he does, which came as a surprise at the start. He is rude and harsh, but even he manages to crack the occasional smile to two in her presence. That’s just how she is.

No, he thinks, the grimace just proves the truth in his words. Her skills had deteriorated, and she needs to get herself together. For her own good.

“Ivan is bigger than me,” she mumbles, but her eyes are staring at the ground. Even she realises this is a poor excuse, if any excuse at all.

“They are always going to be bigger than you. And I might not be there to have your back at all times.” It might not matter, he thinks bitterly, and his hands ball into fists, even if I am.

“Alright.” The easy agreement comes as a surprise, although easy might be an understatement. She gave her best efforts to keep him in bed this morning with gentle caresses, suggestive whispers and kisses down his neck. But still, he had dragged her outside as quickly as he could and she was sour ever since. “Let’s see if you get to wipe the ground with me.” She adds and he knows he managed to annoy her.

She takes her battle stance, her guard up and the Darkling sighs, eyes turning to look around. The sun is starting to rise higher in the sky and he realises he has little time left, just because no, Aleksander, you cannot ruin my reputation by throwing me around in front of everyone. Soon, people would start waking up, ready to start the day and they would have to leave training for tomorrow, when he would have to bring himself to say no to her advances again and… No. They have to start today.

She raises her eyebrow at him, challenge barely veiled, and he takes a deep breath, letting the thrill of the upcoming fight wash over him.

His first punch is not that fast, he knows, and she manages to dodge it with ease. Her elbow slams in his chest in return and was most probably going do force the air from his lungs if he hadn’t tensed. He is forced a step back. When he looks at her, there’s a small cold smirk growing on her face. She isn’t that out of practise after all. The Darkling squints his eyes and starts to pay more attention.

This time she doesn’t wait for him to charge, and when she aims her foot for between his legs, he knows he had touched a nerve. He blocks the kick with his forearm, but he doesn’t bother stop the grin that is slowly stretching on his face. Quick as a cat, he closes the distance between them, taking a tight hold of her wrists, their faces so close she could head-butt him in the nose if she wanted to.

“Is that why you’re so irritable all morning,” he asks, letting out a quiet grunt when she stomps on his foot, but he doesn’t let go. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with you?” This time he manages to move his foot in time and she groans as she misses. “For real?”

“No,” she answers quickly, too quickly, and he grins even wider, because her reaction is so petty, that he can’t really help himself. “You’re putting way too much faith in your ability to —”

He doesn’t let her finish and puts his foot behind hers, giving her a harsh push. She looses her balance and falls ass first on the muddy ground, shock written on her beautiful face.

He grins down at her, reaching out a hand to help her up. She finally comes back to her senses and looks around, her pants and shirt far from clean, mud covering her hands. She grits her teeth and whispers something under her breath, and Aleksander recognises Ivan’s name, followed by a string of curses. She then glares up at him and stands up on her own, ignoring his open hand.

“Again,” she demands, squinting her eyes against the reddish strays of the morning sun. The Darkling attacks again, this time not holding back as much as the first time.

He doesn’t realise how much time passes, punches delivered and blocked from both of them, until they are both panting messes, sweat dripping from their foreheads and sticking strands of hair to their skin. Aleksander allowed himself a moment of distraction, glancing around the training grounds. The palace was slowly coming back to life, voices heard from inside and the occasional kefta-clad figure running around the place.

“Scared someone will see that you’re getting your ass kicked?” Her guard is up and he can’t see the shit-eating grin that is plastered on her face, but he can practically hear it. It’s amazing what an hour of good sparring can do for one’s mood.

“You wish,” he calls back. “Final round?”

“I thought you’ll never ask.”

A smile creeps its way on the Darkling’s face. He takes slow, careful steps to the side, circling her, and her eyes follow him, not even blinking. Yet she is too focused on his movements that she doesn’t notice him close the distance at all. Just like he intends.

She is so surprised by the sudden attack, that she barely fights back when he grabs her wrist and gives her a harsh tug. He bends it behind her back in a swift motion, enough to trap it between his body and hers.

His free hand goes straight for her throat, fully pressing her back against him.

She tries to wriggle out of his grasp, but he presses her forearm slightly upwards and she hisses in pain, giving the hand that is wrapped around her throat a few quick taps, to let him know she surrenders. He stops the pressure on her arm, but doesn’t let go just yet. He leans in, his breath tickling her ear. “Not too bad,” he whispers, and he has to remind himself that they are out in public, “but you still have much to learn.”

She finally releases her, and grins when she turns around and her eyes are a little hazy. She takes a deep breath and when her gaze finds his, she shakes her head at his smirk, her hand rubbing her wrist to dissolve any pain.

“Careful General,” she lowers her voice to a whisper and theatrically looks around, as if to make sure no one is listening. “Someone might actually see you smile.” She sighs. “Can we call this a draw?”

He outright laughs at her audacity. “A draw? You didn’t win even one round!”

“I disagree.” She shakes her head and gives him a cocky raise of her eyebrow and a wave of her hand.“Plus that last one was hardly fair.”

His gaze hardens. Even though the last round really was more playful than aggressive, he had managed to disarm her and have the upper hand after all. If it wasn’t his hand around her throat, she’d be dead. She needed the practice.

As though she reads his mind, she rolls her eyes. “I won’t admit that you were right.”

He snorts a humourless laugh. He doesn’t really expect her to. “But we continue tomorrow.” It’s neither a request, nor a question. It’s an order from a General to his warrior.

She sighs and he knows she’s about to murmur some complaint. Shockingly, gives in with a shake of her head and after a long observation of her clothes, ruined from the mud, she mutters a quiet. “You’re the boss.”

He grins. “I’m the boss.”

#shadow and bone #sab #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #soc #ben barnes #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes fanfiction

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jaybird-redhood · 3 years

Text

propinquity

wc: 2.2k

pairing: jason todd // gn reader

The first thing you think when you see him for the first time is that he has the cutest smile.

That’s a lie, the first thing you think it that he is so incredibly in shape, and it looks great on him, but the smile thing sounds better in your head.

He's moving into the apartment across from yours a month after you moved into yours. Weird, because the two people in your building closest to your age are 2 and 63, respectively.

You suppose that some wicked twist of fate must’ve brought this upon you for missing your cousin’s birthday party last week, because the guy standing across from you is crazy hot. And looking right at you. And you are in the huge neon Wonder Woman t-shirt that your best friend got for your birthday last year.

Yeah. Karma.

“Nice shirt,” the guy offers, holding in a grin. “You’re really making it work.”

“I-”

“See you around, neighbor.”

And with a shut of a door and an awfully charismatic smirk he’s gone.

The next time you see him is a week later, and this time- luckily, you think- you’re dressed somewhat put together. You run into him while unlocking your door.

"What's got you in a twist?" he asks.

"Um," you start, "I just. Ugh I have so much to do. Like 3 hours of homework, a lecture tomorrow that I cannot skip, and I'm completely out of bread and eggs and can't even you to the store until, like, Thursday at best."

Once you start rambling you can't seem to stop. You slouch against your door. You're not entirely sure why you're telling a stranger all this, but he seems to be listening, so you suppose that’s a good sign

"I get the feeling," he offers, and you look up at him. "I'm majoring in English Lit and my classes are kind of kicking my ass."

You give him a small smile, "Glad to know someone in this building is struggling as much as I am."

"Jason," he says, and he reaches his hand out to you. "My name."

You shake it and tell him yours.

As you both turn back into your respective apartments you think that he maybe isn't as intimidating as you thought.

The next day goes by with a really boring lecture and another 3 hours of work you need to do.

The ride home from uni isn't that long, but it's long enough for you to contemplate all the ways that your life went wrong after moving to Gotham. And, maybe as payback for thinking mean things about the city, rain that you think should belong to a category 3 hurricane starts to whip around your car 10 minutes into your drive.

Your clothes are dripping water in literal puddles by the time you get back to your apartment.

Groaning, you start fishing for your keys in your purse while walking up the last flight of stairs.

When you get to your door you stop. Right in front of it there’s a grocery bag. Picking it up and looking inside you see a loaf of bread and a small carton of milk.

You pick it up smiling.

“Jason?” you ask, knocking on his door.

No response.

You shrug and turn around. Remember to thank him the next time you run into each other; you think.

That next time doesn’t happen to be that long and thank goodness for you.

“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this,” he says to you.

You’re sitting on the floor outside of your door looking rather pathetic, and he’s giving you the most awful smirk you’ve ever seen. (Not that it looks bad on him though. You seem to think that nothing could really look that bad on him)

“I swear I’m usually more put together than this,” you sigh to him. “You moving here jinxed me!”

“Yeah yeah. You’re locked out, aren’t you?”

You give him your best withering I’m going to kill you stare, but it must not be working because he just laughs even harder at you.

“This is completely not my fault it’s just I lost my second set of keys like right when I moved in and then today when I got home, I accidentally left them in my car, but my second set of car keys is in my apartment so now I can’t get them out, stop laughing at me!”

“God you’re a mess,” Jason says- finally finished laughing at you and maybe taking a bit of pity on how disheveled you look. “You couldn’t call anyone to get you in?”

You shake your head.

“My friend is the only other person with a set, but they’re out of town, and our landlord is being a dick and telling me it’s my fault in the first place, so I need to deal with it. I’ve been sitting out here for like an hour.”

“All I’m hearing is that it is your fault and now you’re just moping about it feeling bad about yourself.”

You tilt your head against the door so hard that it makes you wince a bit.

“Ok fine,” he says crossing his arms.

“What?”

“Wait right here.”

He goes into his apartment and comes back out with a skinny metal thing you don’t recognize.

You look at him in confusion and he just motions for you to scoot out of the way as he sticks it in your locks and starts to pick it.

You sigh in relief.

“Thank you thank you thank you. For everything. I swear I will get my life together, so you don’t feel like you have to keep cleaning up my messes.

“I don’t mind,” he says with a small smile, “Take your time.”

And with that he opens the door to your apartment and turns back to his.

“By the way, you should really get better locks. That was way too easy.”

You make a note in your head to get that done sometime. As you’re lying on your couch that night, you’re AirDropped a photo on your phone. Saving it up you see it’s a piece of paper with neat handwriting on it: a phone number and a smiley face, Jason’s name at the bottom.

You smile too and add the number to your contacts.

Over the next few weeks, you and Jason start talking more, both over text and through the various times when you run into each other outside your doors.

Each interaction is better than the next, and you soon start to realize that Jason isn’t just some hot guy with no brains. He’s sweet and charismatic, has a whole wall full of bookshelves, could probably quote any classical novel by heart, has incredibly good taste in music, and best (or worst) of all, would make incredible friend material.

It’s just that as you become closer friends, you start to realize that that might not be all you want.

It’s a stupidly cold Friday morning when he texts you, and you’re covered in blankets and wrapped in sweatshirts in your bed. Movie at my place tonight?

You text back your approval and a quick be there at 6 before getting ready for classes.

The day goes by slower than you hoped.

It might be the anticipation of seeing Jason again, or more likely the hours of lectures you have to sit through, but you’re elated when your final class for the day gets let out.

The hours in between are a blur.

A blur which leads to the two of you sitting on his couch watching Romeo and Juliet together, a blanket thrown over your bodies.

You have the obligatory bowl of popcorn resting on your legs, and every few minutes Jason reaches across your lap to take a handful.

The way you’re laying half on top on him is completely deliberate, as to take as much of his body heat as possible. Your landlord had turned off heating 3 weeks prior to ‘save money’ or some other bullshit.

Jason’s not complaining though.

Once your popcorn bowl is finished and your head is in his lap, he runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly. It might be the nicest feeling you’ve ever felt.

Throughout the movie you exchange snide comments about the plot back and forth. You start trying to say funny things whenever you can just to hear how sweet his laugh sounds to your ears.

By the end of the movie, you’re only slightly in tears, or so you tell yourself.

“Are you crying right now?” Jason asks incredulously, wearing a teasing smile.

“It’s not my fault,” you half say half moan, “Leonardo DiCaprio just has that effect on me.”

He just laughs and pulls you upright until you’re sitting on his lap.

His eyes are a shade of blue green that you’ve never seen before, although you could swear their getting greener by the second.

You watch his gaze drop down to your lips before staring you right in the eyes again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God yes,” you tell him, and kiss him right back.

The next week is somewhat uneventful, even though you and Jason had been meeting each other almost every night, rotating apartments based on whose house was warmer each particular night.

Tonight is your night, and you’ve been waiting the whole day to show him the film you had rented to watch together.

The walk up to your door is easier than usual, and you have a bounce in your step that’s making you feel even more elated than normal taking out your keys to unlock your apartment.

You open your door and your bag drops. The keys clatter when they hit the hardwood, and the silence that follows is deafening.

“You’re bleeding on my carpet,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

There Jason is, bleeding quite profusely, and using your kitchen counter to keep himself vertical. He’s wearing what looks to be a torn half of a domino mask and an extremely hot leather jacket.

(Not that this was the time for noticing his fashion choices, but you filed that thought away for later.)

What really catches your eye though is the huge red bat symbol on his chest, and the red helmet next to it sitting on your counter.

He shifts a little to the side before stumbling through saying, “Um, so, I know this isn’t ideal and I’m really sorry to put you in this situation, but I seriously do not feel like bleeding out tonight and-”

“Oh my god this is great,” you cut him off with. “I thought you were a hit-man!”

“Wait what.”

“Shit no that’s not what I meant- kind of, hang on we should probably stop you from dying before having this conversation.”

You walk over to him to get a better look at his wounds.

“God Jace, you look like death warmed over.”

He just stares at you.

“You have a bunch of stuff in your bathroom, right?”

At least this elicits a reaction. He grimaces in pain but gives you a nod of his head in conformation.

“Ok I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

He gives you a look that says seriously, where would I go.

3 minutes later you’re back with a needle and thread, and some sterilizing spray.

“This should be fine,” you tell him, “I took a first aid class last year with my friends and passed with flying colors according to the nurse.”

“Just try to keep them tight and neat. I trust you,” he says, and your heart pounds just a little harder.

You respond with a nervous laugh but take a deep breath and start working.

An hour and a half later you’re done.

The combination of pain meds, bandages, and a whole lot of stitches eventually led to you and Jason laying in your bed together, both completely exhausted.

He turns his head to face you.

“Could we maybe go back to the hit-man thing?”

“Oh uh. Well I saw a bunch of shirts covered in blood in your laundry in the bathroom, not to mention all the weirdly specific first-aid you had,” you tell him.

“And also the assorted guns and knives you have hidden all over. I guess I just assumed? But the whole Red Hood thing is so much better,” you reassure him.

“You found all my knives?”

You smile up at him.

“I love that that’s thing you chose to focus on.”

“And you’re really not mad that I didn’t tell you about the whole vigilante thing before?” he asks.

“Jay, I had already resigned myself to life forever with some shady hit-man that also happened to be incredibly good looking. Red Hood is ten times better than that. I’m not going to run away from you just because you’re incredibly intimidating and probably could kill me. I see that as an added bonus,” you say, with as much charm as you can muster without yawning.

“Just. Be careful, ok? I’d hate to make this a routine.”

He responds by pulling you closer to his body.

“I promise,” he whispers into your head. “You really to remember to get better locks by the way, breaking in was still way too easy.”

You let out a small laugh and finally you let yourself give into sleep.

#luce writes #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #red hood x gender neutral reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd #red hood #dc

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another-fantasy-world · 3 years

Text

Pulled

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Title: Pulled

Pairings: (Romantic) Wanda Maximoff x Reader, (Platonic) Avengers x Reader, (Familial) Natasha Romanoff x Reader, (Familial) Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The Avengers, Earth's chosen heroes. You thought the name was absurd, and you knew that being around them is trouble, especially since the son of Odin himself is working with them. But of course, no matter how much you tried to pull away, no matter the consequences of you being a demon, they still insist on pulling you back, among all of them, she insists the most.

Warnings: Canon Violence. Demons. Mentions of Hell

Additional Tags: Wanda being the best girlfriend for a demon. Natasha being a soft mom. Tony being the annoying brother. Avengers being the lovable idiots that they are. Pietro being alive is my shit.

Reader Pronouns: She/They

Word Count: 3276 words

GIF isn’t mine but boy do I adore it. Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you and Enjoy Reading! Requests are open, see pinned post for more info

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Grief. Pain. Sadness. Anger. Guilt. Fear. Six of the most common negative emotions one human can have, and somehow, this two human children had them all. You silently watched as this human girl and her twin brother hide under the bed to protect themselves from the bomb just 3 feet from them. You can sense both their fears, it's what led you to them in the first place. The intense fear and emotional pain in their souls was intoxicating, it makes you want to devour it and take their souls straight to hell. But for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to enhance it, to give them more pain, just for your own sake.

So even as your hunger clawed and begged to be satisfied, you ignored it, looking for something to comfort the trembling twins. Out the corner of your eye, you saw the damaged TV, making quick work of fixing it with your magic, turning it on, only to find the girl's glowing red eyes trained at your naturally red eyes. Your eyes widened as you realized she could see you. You then turned your attention to the other twin, his child-like eyes staring right at your non-existent soul.

“And you can see me. Great.” You voiced out, sighing. You didn't even know why your glamour didn't work on these two brats.

“Yes.” They answered timidly, Heavy Sokovian accents ringing throughout the air.

“Are you scared?” You ask them, tucking your wings in as to not scare them further more, much to your displeasure. You didn't really know why you're acting like this.

“No.” You smiled at their response, they were lying of course, but it was adorable nonetheless.

You debated on what to do next, you could erase their memories of you but quickly realized that you couldn't considering this human child is a witch. You sighed, you rarely interfere with human foolishness, the outcomes of said foolishness make up for your daily meal, so you leave them be, but for some reason you were being pulled to do the opposite.

“This is going to be the last time you see me.” You state coldly, refusing to get attached.

You maneuver your magic to levitate the bed they were currently hiding under, gray wisps of magic enveloping the bomb to keep them from detonating, you watch as the human girl seems fascinated with what she sees despite the life-threatening situation they are in right now. The human boy dragging his sister towards you as you envelop them in your magic as well, protecting them for what's about to come.

“Hold on.” You say, their arms wrapping around yours as you extend your wings and fly upwards, the air harmless to the children in your arms when it should have killed them based on your speed alone. You looked down at them, the human girl buried her face into you as fear mixed with relief pulsed out of her. The human boy on the other hand, looked ecstatic with the speed you are going at.

'Children' You thought, chuckling lightly.

You both dropped them off at the local Sokovian orphanage, prompting to leave when the human girl tugged on your black wings making you look back.

“Yes?” You asked

“Stay” She says, smiling. You smiled back, despite seeing how the events of today slowly dawned on both of them, pain filling both of their eyes.

You just shook your head sadly, a frown quickly settling at your face, realizing you let your guard down, before flying away, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

You never thought you would see them again years later, all grown up. You were on an errand appointed to you by your brother when you stumbled upon Sokovia. The place swarmed with ridiculous looking military. Your eyes widening as you see them displaying their powers fighting against the Avengers. You smiled softly and rolled your eyes when you saw that the human boy now had super speed and the human girl had her witchy tendencies, beautiful red wisps of magic floating through the air, as a human man, named Captain America, tumbled down the stairs.

“We have another enhanced. Female. Do not engage.” You frowned at that, they're treating her like a threat, and that didn't place right with you. Prompting to leave this problem to future you, you left

“Enhanced?” You ask yourself as you flew away, not having the courage to face the twins right now.

Days pass and you still barely have the courage to give in to the pull that they both had, you spent the days you had trying to find whatever it is that you have with the two of them, it was something you cannot explain with words. The pull was extremely hard to ignore, it was a bond of some sort. But you never made a contract with them, did you accidentally make one? But this feels like something more, it wasn't just a normal contract, it feels much more intimate, familial in a sense.

You were reading ancient books, feeling particularly annoyed at the pathetic wails of souls being tortured, annoyed that your brother decided placing his torture chamber near your library where it should be quiet, quiet enough to read without some human soul screaming their hearts out as they are force to relive their most painful memories over and over again.

Your head snapped up when you felt intense amount of anger and pain course through your veins, you dropped the book you were reading and immediately materialized on Earth, finding the human girl in a headlock.

Your vision blurred, only seeing red, you charged towards the man, slamming him to the glass, breaking it, walking forward more, you slammed him to the wall, gripping his neck, you could see green slowly seeping from it. You clenched your teeth, feeling hot flames bursting from around you, cracks emerging from the concrete as molten lava seeps through. Your magic prevented him from transforming. Your eyes a vicious black as anger pumped throughout your whole being. You could feel the monster in you, clawing it's way out, telling you to rip this man's head off and feed it to Cerberus, taking his soul to the deepest, darkest depths of hell.

“Go on. Piss me off.” You growled out, mocking his words, your black wings extending, hiding the both of you from the other's view, who stopped fighting as soon as you materialized from the ground.

Gripping harder now, you ought to kill him, enduring the pain of random blasts and the feeling of a vibranium shield repeatedly being slammed into your wings.

Soft red wisps wrapped around your wrist, comforting you, lowering your guard for a little, allowing the human girl to touch you. Her hands running through the feathers that your wings had.

“It's okay. I'm okay. You don't have to.” Her soft voice rang through your ears, making you drop the coughing man and hold her hand.

“Are you sure?” Your voice raspy from growling.

She just nodded, gripping your hand as well. You didn't even notice the commotion happening. You didn't notice Thor slamming in, zapping the capsule like thing. You didn't notice the android emerging, You didn't notice a single thing. Not until she let go of your hands did you regain senses.

“I thought you said we weren't going to see you again.” She says, making you face her

“Uhm.” You gulped, now that you took at good look at the human girl, she certainly...enhanced herself since you last saw her.

She raised her brows as her head tilted, staring up at you. You felt as thou you were the one being hunted, rather than being the hunter that you are.

“Things change, Little Witch.” You tried to steady yourself, nearly losing your footing at the blue blur that ran past you.

“Wingie! You came back!” The human boy exclaimed.

“...Wingie? What the fuck?” You thought as you narrowed your eyes at them. Watching as the woman chuckled, you looked at her pointedly, knowing that she read your mind, to which she just shrugged.

“You refer to us as human boy and human girl. We refer to you as wingie, it's a fair deal isn't it?” She smirked, her Sokovian accent sending shivers down your spine.

“It is not.” You stood straigher. A frown placed on your face as you knew you needed to leave and cut ties with them. Even if you did not want to, Demon-Human relationships are strictly forbidden, unless they willingly sign their soul to you.

As if sensing this, The human girl took a hold of your wings and tugged on it, giving you a sense of nostalgia

“Stay.” She says with finality.

“I guess it would be nice for you both to tell me your name.” You say after a moment of silence, hissing slightly when you see a mark forming on your palm.

You had given in to their bond, they have successfully pulled you in. It left you wondering how this happened and why has your father, the almighty God, allowed this. Better question, why did Luci never interrupt this bond, he just let it be, even when you asked him about it, he nonchalantly says that you should give in. What better purpose does this have?

“...Now I really need your name.” You mumble out, spotting the glowing marks they both had shining through their clothes.

“Ooooohkay. What is happening around here?” You tore your gaze from the twins to look at the tin man.

“Please do not talk tin man. This does not concern you. However, I believe that The First Son of Odin can help you satisfy your curiosity about me.” You say, gaze returning to the twins.

“Wanda.”

“Pietro.”

“Y/N.” You smiled.

“You now have a personal demon at your command.” You grin, showing your true fiery self to them, bowing like a servant, surprising them a little, Then laughed, comfortable with teasing you at how ugly you looked in your true form, which also made you laugh. A memory you will never forget.

“What's in your mind darling?” Wanda brings you back to reality, her hands softly holding your face.

Tony was kind enough to give you a whole floor to yourselves in the tower, it now looked like a big apartment with a 70's theme due to you and Wanda's modifications just last night. Your wife did have a knack for changing your apartment's theme to different eras, you suspect it's from her love of sitcoms so you just let her be. Besides, her sitcoms are growing on you.

“How we met.” You state, a content smile on your face while tracing the mark she had.

The room you both shared is enveloped in your magic, the illusion showing the night sky, shooting stars passing through despite being in broad daylight.

“Hmmn. You traveled far.” She chuckled, nuzzling further into your wings. You chuckled.

“You love my wings more than me, my love, why must you be like this?” You teased her

“They're softer than you.” She teased back

“You wound me little witch.” You lean in to kiss her, only to be interrupted, your illusion breaking as the door slammed open

“EW EW EW EW EW!” A blue blur barged in, only to run out again.

You huffed out in annoyance, It's 7am and Pietro is already annoying you.

“Why must I also have a bond with that prick.” You grumbled under your breath, burying your face into Wanda's neck.

“Because he's my brother, and you, my love, are my wife. That makes you his sister as well.” She says, pecking your lips multiple times, her Sokovian accent slipping out.

“Mrs. Maximoff, and Other Mrs. Maximoff. Ms. Romanoff wanted me to remind you of your training at 8:30 am after breakfast. And Mr. Stark is demanding you both to have breakfast with the team” FRIDAY, the AI's voice rang out.

“Thank you FRIDAY.” You muttered out, begrudgingly getting up from your shared bed, your wings limp as if sharing your sadness, much to your wife's amusement.

“I don't get it. At all. We've been doing this for 8 years now. Why do I still have to train?” You whined, walking into the dining room where the rest of the Avengers are.

“Because, you little devil, you rely on your powers too much. Hand-to-hand combat is necessary.” Natasha pats your back, grabbing her newly made peanut butter sandwich.

Natasha met you after Bruce saved her from Ultron, your powers saved her by smashing in two robots to the ground, which seemed to amuse her, plus seeing you with horns made her laugh. The next day, she approached you asking if you wanted to spar with her, and you cockily said yes, boasting that you'll beat her in a minute. You were proven wrong, your ass got handed to you every single time, proving that you can't make it through life without your powers.

“And yet, you don't tell Tony to train.” You deadpanned at Natasha, and she looked at you like how an angry mother looks at a child throwing a tantrum.

You accidentally read Natasha's mind one day when you were starving, refusing to feed off your family's emotions, despite them being filled with negative emotions because, the receiver of a demon feeding feels intense pain as said demon sucks their emotions out, leaving them exhausted, sometimes in a coma, and sometimes just dead, it's soul going straight down to hell. She was thinking about how she thinks of you as her daughter, albeit being thousands of years older than her. You just shrugged and went along with it, finding it funny, until you accidentally called her 'Mom' when she got shot, sending the one who shot her down to the pits of hell. And since then it just stuck.

“Because I'm a genius, devilious.” You rolled your eyes at his ego and his horrible nickname.

“Dumbass.” You murmured

“Bitch.” He shot back

“Jerk.�� You retaliated. Puffing your wings up to hopefully intimidate him but he just powered up his reactor and threatened to blast you.

“Okay, enough from the both of you.” Wanda gave you a pointed look which had you pouting

“No powers on the dining table!” Pepper scolded.

“Sorry.” you mumbled, directing your attention to the elevator doors as they open to reveal Clint on the phone.

Your eyes drifted to Pietro as you both shared a smirk, if there's one thing that you both could agree on, is that you both love to piss off Clint, who despite being retired, visits the tower often.

You subtly use your powers to tie Clint's shoelaces together as Pietro sped to him, taking his phone.

“Hey!” He complained, taking a step to run after Pietro only to slam, face first into a pillow?

Your eyes then lifted up to see Wanda's glowing eyes, her hands wrapped with a red mist as you see Pietro being dragged into the room by said mist.

“Oh shit.” You murmured, seeing her head tilt, it's common knowledge to run when Wanda tilts her head, it's terrifying as fuck.

“...We can talk about this...” You say, slowly backing up. She just raised her brows

“Whipped.” Clint whispered tauntingly as he passed you

“Take it to the training room kids.” Natasha says, her steaming black coffee nestled in her palms

“I didn't even eat yet.” You whined, plopping yourself away from your wife, beside the metal armed man who pushed the plate of toast towards you.

“Are we still going to ignore how devilious is a literal demon and she's scared of Wondie?” Tony teased, bouncing Morgan on his lap while she drinks her milk.

“Okay. Tony, Tony, Tony. Stare me straight in the eyes, look at me, look, look. Come on, look into my eyes-”

“Yes, I'm looking into your “natural” red eyes, they still look like contacts” He says, air quoting the word natural

“First of all, they are natural. Second, stare right into my eyes and tell me that my wife isn't the MOST TERRIFYING PERSON YOU EVER MET!?”

“Meh.” He says, smirking

“Oh-hoho! Ouch.” You say playfully with a grimace, jaw dropping with a look of offense on your face.

“Let's just agree that wives are terrifying, yes?” You say quickly, motioning to Pepper who was chopping up some food for her daughter, who held up the knife as a response to your statement.

“And this is why I will never get married.” Natasha says, disposing of her plates to the sink before motioning to you.

“I can change that. Do you want a dog too?” Sam asks, grinning

“Get ready to get your ass kicked, Wilson.” You grinned seeing Nat's glare

“Language.” Tony says, motioning to his kid while winking at Steve who rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. The fitted shirt threatening to rip. You always wondered why Steve liked to wear clothes that's one size smaller that what he should be wearing. Maybe it was because of Bucky, or Nat, or both. You never knew with that man.

“It's been 8 years. Why is that still a thing?” Steve groan, making you all laugh.

Your laugh slowly faded, staring at your family, your weird but still very much your family, laughing and having fun without a care in the world, it's memories like these that you want to remember.

You don't want to remember the sacrifices you had to make to get this very moment, the actions you made were selfish yet necessary, for your universe at least. You had the power and the chance to change everything 5 years ago, and you took that chance without hesitation, even if it meant breaking the fabric of the universe itself.

You just hoped that the Avengers from the other universes wouldn't hate you so much for adding to their pain. After all, you did avert what should have happened in your universe, into another universe where the people of earth and it's mightiest heroes, suffered twice. Their pain increasing tenth fold as you merged two problems into one.

The consequence that you have to endure for that however, was white-hot pain. You will have to endure all the universe's pain, nightmares and visions of the battle that should have happened will continue to plague you, visions of Wanda in pain, visions of Tony Stark dying, visions of his funeral, visions of Natasha's death will play in your head over and over again. Your own personal hell.

But it's worth it right? …right? You'd do anything to make your family happy... right? You'd do anything to make her happy. It's worth it. It was definitely worth it... right?

#wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #platonic avengers x reader #platonic natasha romanoff x reader #platonic pietro maximoff x reader #platonic tony stark x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry XIV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, thoughts of self-harm and suicide, depression, some triggers might not be fully tagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: It’s the final day of the tournament and all are holding their breath to see who prevails.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The arena was buoyant on the final day of the tournament. The most awaited event, the joust, was finally come. As Lord Barnes would once more be among the competitors, you were left on your own in the box with the rest of the ladies and their queen. Most of the noblemen were listed for the sport, Barnes, Rogers, Stark, and even the king.

You didn’t watch as the names were announced and the banners presented before the games commenced. Your attention wasn’t even drawn as the first clashed with their blunted staffs and galloping horses. It was much more perilous than the other contests.

You stayed away from the other women. You were not interested in humouring the queen’s false kindness nor were you interested in their chatter of things that hardly mattered to you. Sewing, birthing, loving; you didn’t care for any of it. You didn’t care for them or the men on the field. You cared for nothing in this bleak world.

As Barnes took to the saddle for his first opponent, you glanced down lazily but found your eyes drawn to clouds instead. It was bitterly cold under the grey sky, streaked with umbrous and ominous wisps. It would likely snow soon as if to mark the grand finale.

You tucked your hands into your sleeves and hugged yourself alone on the bench. You were drawn from your glowering by the rustle of skirts. The queen sat beside you and let out an airy sigh.

“Thankfully, my brother has kept clear of conflict,” she said, “in fact, he’s hardly spared another snarl for the visiting Baron.”

“Your majesty,” you muttered as the flag was waved and the horses barrelled at each other and the men pointed their long poles.

“Unless you count this,” she mused as his pole broke off the armour of the other men and sent his adversary sprawling and the other horse whinnying in a panic. You lowered your eyes meekly. “He will be eager to be away and I do hope you aid him in a speedy departure. The baron is expected to remain in the capital for the winter.”

“Yes, he is want to be gone back to the castle,” you assured her.

“It would be tragic if you were to be snowed in here. Very inconvenient and costly at that.”

“Certainly, your majesty,” you said flatly.

“You understand the urgency that will follow in the coming days,” she intoned.

“I understand but you do seem to misunderstand your brother. To think that I have any hold over him is farcical. He does as he pleases. He is a duke, I am a displaced chambermaid. That is all it is… your majesty.”

“You do not speak as a chambermaid,” she replied sharply, “my brother favours you but he still cannot overrule me, understood?”

“Your majesty, I understand my place completely,” you ceded, “would I be remiss to excuse myself?”

“For what means?”

“To find a commode,” you answered, “these game do carry on and I am distracted by my humanly needs.”

“Go off then,” she stood, “you are rather dour today. You would cast a mood over us all if you languish thus.”

“Your majesty,” you rose and made your way to the doors as she rejoined her ladies and gave a forced giggle as they welcomed her. You wondered how the nobles were trained so well in lies. Was it in their books or did their tutors include it in their curricula?

You descended the stairs without aim. You had no need of the commode, only an excuse. You stepped out into the lower stands and peered out at the field. In that moment, you could be gone. You could disappear and be away from all this misery.

You scoffed at yourself and leaned against the wooden planks. He’d find you again. You couldn’t make it far enough before he sniffed you out again. You weren’t stupid enough to try it twice, even at such an opportune moment. You would only earn yourself further punishment.

“Is something amusing, my lady?” you stood straight and looked startled to the man who emerged from the shadows of the stairway. Lord Zemo smirked and came to stand arm to arm with you as he looked out across the stadium.

“My lord, I was only watching the field,” you lied, “thinking.”

“Ah, yes, these games, how violent,” he remarked, “where I am from, we have festivals before tournaments. Singing, dancing, poetry, theatre… I suppose that is just as silly as all this.”

“It is… a privilege to be able to afford silliness,” you said, “to not be the one cleaning up after all of it and yet… so very pointless.”

He nodded and grumbled as he considered your words, “very true. Wise, even. I think that after one has seen how grave things can be, these affairs become less and less entertaining. It is almost sickening to think of them, let alone attend them. Why should men play at war as if it were fun?”

You peeked over at him. He was here because he once fought those men down on the field with real steel and armour. It was rather grim to think of. “I did not think of it like that but I suppose you are right. I know little of war, however, my lord.”

“You know of pain, though,” he said, “it is painted on you as much as those battle scars carried by veterans like your beloved Barnes.”

You were silent. You stared up at the sky again, the endless grey, the half-finished canvas.

“Beloved? Perhaps that is the wrong word for him. I see little affection there. I sense it is not an arrangement you asked for.”

“Does it matter if it is?” you shook your head, “My lord, you waste your breath on little more than a servant. I suffer Lord Barnes the same as any, I am no help to you.”

“Help? I have no desire to change my standing with Barnes, I am not so foolish as that,” he turned to face you, “Have none ever taken interest in you as your own being?”

“I am a servant. I am not my own being,” you murmured, “my lord, if you would, I should return to my party.”

“As you will,” he said dolefully, “it was a pleasure to meet again.”

“Was it?” you asked as you turned to go.

“It is always a relief to speak of anything but politics or gold,” he said, “and yes, you served me well in this conversation. As you said, that is all you are worth.”

You left him but didn’t ascend back to the box. You continued down the steps until you reached the final landing. You looked up and sat on the lowest stair. A moment of peace before you had to go back. To not think for a single second.

🏰

You listened to the raucous voices of the audience. You didn’t want to move from that spot. You didn’t want to go back to it all. You just wanted to stay on that step forever. But you knew you had to go. You knew you had to get up.

You lifted yourself wearily but your foot only hovered above the bottom stair. You heard more voices, and an angry one as the crowd bang and buzzed. You followed the lower sounds, the singular conversations yelled through the din. You ventured down the tunnel that led beneath the stands.

Horse kicked and snorted as you came into the area meant for competitors. Men sat and stood with blood on brow and lip. Those who’d already lost, many as the final face-off was about to commence. You looked around but did not see Lord Barnes. Perhaps he was on the other side or even looking for you.

You walked the perimeter of the large space and a familiar face caught your eye. Peter rubbed his shoulder as he muttered, his aunt and uncle sat with him as the former checked the cut on his chin. You felt the same stabbing in your chest as the night before. Before you could think, you were marching towards him.

You skidded to a halt before him and gulped. You didn’t know what to say, you only knew how you felt. He looked over at you as May and Benjamin followed his gaze. You wavered and blinked away the tears that threatened.

“I did want to be friends but I stayed away to protect you, Peter,” you said, “did you have to be so cruel?”

“What? I--” he stood and winced as he jarred his shoulder, “I didn’t-- I wasn’t--”

“I know what I am and I know we cannot be friends but could it have hurt to let me think ‘what if’?” You quivered.

“No, my lady, I--”

“You know I’m not a lady. No need to treat me like one now. I heard you last night. I didn’t come to change your mind, I’m not so simple as that. I only came-- well, I don’t know why, but perhaps I only wanted to say to one person how they hurt me. Perhaps I wanted to just once be able to speak my part and that I can do because I know I will never see you again.”

You brushed past him and he reached for your arm as he stammered, “please, don’t, I was l--”

“Don’t,” you shrugged him off and stomped on as the figures around you blurred and the anger and despair swelled in your head.

You followed the noise of the crowd. They were hungry for blood. If that was what they wanted, they would have it.

You pushed out from behind the curtain and the wood and dirt vibrated from the cacophony. You saw Lord Barnes in his saddle as he was handed his pole and his competitor, Lord Rogers, as he took his own. Their attendants checked the horse and took them to their marks.

You quaked as the ocean of voice rolled over you and you crept out along the wall. All were entranced by the two dukes as they readied for their signal. Barnes silver armour was dented and dinged from his former bouts and Rogers golden armour was just as scuffed. The two men steadied their steeds and the crowd fell into a hush of anticipation.

The red cloth dropped and the riders galloped at each other across the field. The hooves dusted up the cold dirt, through blood stains left throughout the day, and the crash that came sent up another cheer through the crowd.

Wooden slivers exploded around Barnes and Rogers was pushed back against his horse as his own shield was deflected. Both men kept astride and righted themselves as they rode back to their posts and again, their liveried attendants approached to calm their horses and fix their dressings.

They would go again and again, until one of them was tossed from their saddle or worse. You began to breathe heavily as you paced along the wall and the lords were handed new shields. You readied and watched the man in gray lift the rag. You began to run before it was even visible to the crowd.

You heard the horses barreling at each other as you did the same. You closed your eyes as you got closer to the lanes and you tossed back your arms as you threw yourself forward. A heavy and hard force hit you and several crushing blows landed across your body as the horse trampled over you and overturned.

You croaked as you were left in the dirt. The eerie silence that followed was void of the bouncing excitement. It was broken only by the screaming of the injured horse and the confused voices of those on the field. You heard that familiar deep groan, of pain, not delight this time.

You rasped and gasped as your chest ached and your bones throbbed. Your limbs were filled with sand and your head pounding. There were shadows all around you as you wheezed and you smiled as you tasted blood on your tongue. You began to laugh as your eyelids drooped and blacked out the arena.

“Don’t move her!” A voice called as someone touched your arm. It was broken, you were sure of it. It didn’t matter, they couldn’t fix you. Not your arm, none of it.

You laughed louder and louder as you heard more footsteps. It was all so funny. You were free! Your eyes rolled back and your mind flickered. Just before the flame gave its last lick, you heard his voice. The gravity of it gave you peace.

“Is she alive? Is she alive!? Help her! Help her!”

Lord Barnes could demand as he did for all he had but in this, he could not be mollified.

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1

Ding dong fannibals I’m back on my bullshit :)

I discovered that I cannot for the life of me be concise so this one might come in a couple parts. I don't anticipate it's gonna go as long as Cult Girl but we'll see. Y/n is an introverted waitress at a fancy restaurant with a crush on a mysterious regular. An encounter with a dangerous criminal pulls her into his world.

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence; implied drug use; religiously-motivated violence.

In some ways, waitressing was the perfect job for an introvert. Customers didn’t see you as a person, they saw you as an NPC. As long as that was the case, you weren’t expected to engage with them beyond the script: you take their order, bring them the food and they, hopefully, leave a tip. To ensure that, you perfected the art of fake happiness. You were there to make money, not friends.

Well, there was an exception to every rule. Yours was the sommelier.

The sommelier was a regular at the restaurant, but never ordered a meal. He mostly just sat at the bar, drank expensive wine, and watched the people come and go for hours at a time. Among the waitstaff, he was a bit of a local cryptid. Waitresses whispered about the handsome gentleman with an unidentifiable accent and deep pockets. About how lucky you had to be to score a bartending shift on one of the nights he showed up. It got to the point where bartending shifts were swapped like currency, because every woman on staff wanted the chance to meet the sommelier.

One of the more religious line chefs liked to remind you all that the devil would come as everything you could ever desire. He was fully convinced that the sommelier was Satan incarnate, and he wasn’t completely off the mark. Standing at six feet tall with features sharp enough to cut diamonds, the sommelier wouldn’t look out of place in a vampire thriller. He always dressed in dark suits. Your coworkers hypothesized this was so the bloodstains wouldn’t show. Despite the chef’s well-intended (if not condescending) warnings, even the threat of eternal damnation couldn’t scare you off.

As much as you liked to believe you were above stupid workplace gossip, you knew you weren’t. You were never the most socially adept person, but this gave you something to connect over. It’s how you discovered that you and the other waitresses were all in the same boat; broke, lonely and in desperate need of some excitement. And if that came in the form of a wine-loving vampire taking a liking to your restaurant, there were certainly worse ways to go.

Unfortunately, not even the chance at encountering the sommelier could make you look forward to working Easter Sunday. Your manager had you working from noon to midnight that day. As employers went, he wasn’t much of a tyrant. He offered you time and a half and even let you switch from waiting tables to bartending halfway through the shift. He, too, knew how coveted the bartending shifts were. And you weren’t in any position to refuse, either. You quite enjoyed having a roof over your head and food in your stomach.

That didn’t make up for the fact that most of the other twenty-something employees had left for the holiday, and you were one of the few stragglers left available. Easter was the most dreaded workday of the year, because the infamous after-church crowd quadrupled in size and lasted all day. They came in double-digit parties, had no concept of birth control and tipped in prayer. Too many times had you reached for what looked like a generous cash tip, only to find that it was a church pamphlet disguised as a fifty.

You clocked in at noon exactly, after waiting for the second hand to pass the twelve just to be sure.

“[F/N]!” Your coworker, Charissa, grabbed your attention before you could walk away. “I heard you’re at the bar this evening. Congratulations.”

“He’s not going to show up, Charissa.” You rolled your eyes. You decided to go into this shift expecting the absolute worst, that way you wouldn’t be setting yourself up for disappointment. “It’s Easter.”

“You don’t know that.” Charissa nudged you in the side.

You grinned. “Why would a vampire come to dinner on the one day everyone is gonna be wearing a cross?”

“Oh, shit, I didn’t think of that.” Charissa gasped. “Well, good luck anyway.”

The first wave of customers filing through the door and filling the restaurant with noise pushed all optimism out of your head. Sighing, you approached a person that Charissa had already seated.

“Hi, my name is [F/N], I’ll be your server today.” You greeted the first customer in your block. “Can I get you something to drink today?”

The man couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five, if that. He was still lively in a way that meant he hadn’t experienced the drain that was a minimum wage job. He was wearing a shirt that said ‘on fire for Christ’ under a flannel with no buttons. One look and you knew he wasn’t going to tip.

The man flashed a row of eerily white teeth. “I thought you said you would bring the wine?”

You momentarily thought you’d already taken his drink order and shook your head. “I’m sorry, did I--”

“Ah, I see your confusion.” The man shrugged and forced a laugh. “You’re waitressing this week, you and I are going on a date next week. My mistake.”

Great. You thought. It hasn't even been five minutes and I'm already being gaslit.

Any interaction that forced you to go off-script was bad, but this was a particularly irritating diversion. “Would you like to see a wine list?”

“I’m Chase.” He said. “It’s nice to meet you, [F/N].”

“Have you decided on a drink?” You repeated, trying not to grit your teeth too obviously.

"I'll have a glass of your finest coke, please." He faked an English accent, poorly.

"We only carry Pepsi products." You said, dreading how this joker would react to such a minor inconvenience.

He threw his head back and made a face like he had just taken a bullet to the chest. "No, it's gotta be coke! It's coke or nothing!"

"Did you want something else, then?" You tried to hurry him along. "The bartender makes a very nice mimosa-"

He smacked the table as if he had some urgent question. "McDonald's or Chick-Fil-A? There is a right answer, so choose wisely."

"...uh," You mumbled, just praying that he would order a drink already. There wasn't even a Chick-fil-A in the area. "I like McDonald's."

Again, he acted like he was shot in the chest. "Oh, you're down zero to two!"

"If you need a few minutes to select a drink," You said. "I can come back-"

He grabbed your arm and forced a laugh. "I'm just kidding around with you, [F/N]. Pepsi is fine."

You scribbled the order down on your notepad, mostly just to pry your wrist from his grip. You wanted to go into the bathroom and scrub yourself down, but perhaps it was just easier to chop the whole arm off. That way you could get worker's compensation, too.

The tables were filling up and you had spent far too long coaxing a drink order out of this youth pastor creep. You had actual families to wait on. The shift was off to a horrible start.

You made him wait for as long as you could get away with. You took drink orders from three full booths before returning to the youth pastor. Because you knew he was raring to corner you again.

You planted the pop in front of him, the glass already wet with condensation. "Have you decided on a meal?"

"I was just looking over this menu and something caught my eye." He began, looking at the holiday menu your manager had printed off. "This rack of lamb, it's a special, right?"

"Right." You nodded. "It's a pretty large meal, though, so I'd recommend sharing it-"

"No, y'see.." he cut you off. "Jesus was the lamb of god. He died on the cross for your sins. And, look!"

He pointed to the menu. "It says it's a 'praying hands' lamb!"

"Oh!" You forced yet another smile. "I can see the confusion. That just refers to how the rack is arranged."

"I think it's a sign from god." He said.

You demonstrated the shape of the dish with your fingers. "See, the rib bones are long and the racks are Frenched, so the dish takes the shape of a pair of, well, praying hands."

"I'll take it." He nodded furiously.

He took a sharp breath in through his nose and you started to seriously wonder if his definition of "coke or nothing" had a double meaning. It formulated in your head as a joke, but it became more and more of a serious inquiry by the minute.

You leaned in just slightly to get a closer look at his face. Some details you hadn't noticed before were beginning to come into focus. His eyes were vacant and glassy. A small but noticeable stream of blood trickled from his nostril.

"Sir?" You said in a clear, projected voice. "Is there someone I could call for you?"

He turned his head. "Jesus died for your sins."

You looked around the room for any sign of your manager, a supervisor or anyone with a shred of authority. "This man needs help!"

In your haste to call attention to the situation, you didn't see him pick up his steak knife.

"You want to know what Jesus felt when you pierced him?" He muttered, just loud enough for your ears alone.

You felt the serrated knife puncture your skin before you had time to process his words. The pain shot through your body, making you freeze in place.

A chorus of screams filled the restaurant. Blood was pouring from the open wound in a quantity you didn't think possible. Underneath, the knife went straight through your hand and into the table.

The man gripped the handle and gave it a twist, a look of horrifying pleasure on his face. At this point, several people had stepped in to restrain him. He was tall and athletic and could easily overpower many of the other customers, which he did. He found another steak knife and began to cut throats while chanting an incomprehensible prayer.

An older woman claiming to be a doctor rushed to your side. She made a makeshift tourniquet from a napkin and a butter knife. Everything after that was a blur. You struggled to stay conscious as the woman tried to guide the knife from the table while keeping it embedded in your hand.

Soon enough, police and ambulances arrived on the scene. The woman placed you in the care of one of the many EMTs, then rushed away to assist the others.

"I'm just doing what Jesus says!" The youth pastor shouted, before gouging his knife into another man's throat. "Spreading his love!"

The officers notably didn't open fire and made an attempt to de-escalate. Maybe that was how the youth pastor was able to escape.

#hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #tw religion #tw christianity #long form #tw customer service #tw blood #tw violence

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cookiesnt · 3 years

Text

Rantaro, Nagito and Kazuichi saving their little sister from being killed!

...I’m gonna end up writing this for everyone I write for, aren’t I?

Welp, I’m not complaining! They may take awhile, but they’re fun!

Rantaro:

Usually, he was with you 24/7.

“We can’t trust everyone here, Y/n. I can’t lose you too.”

Today, however, he said he needed to check something and left you alone.

“Stay here. Only run if you’re in danger.”

With that, he left you in one of the classrooms.

“I’m bored,” you whined, fiddling with a pencil.

He was taking awhile and you were starting to worry.

You heard the door open.

“Ranta- Oh, hi Tenko...”

Disappointed, you went back to fiddling.

“Y/n, why do you care so much for that degenerate?”

You sighed, tired of this argument with her.

“He’s my brother, Tenko.”

She hated that answer.

“You don’t owe him anything!”

“Please just go. I have to stay and wait for him to get back.”

She sighed, frowning.

“I was hoping someone else was here... but you’ll have to do, I guess...”

“What are you talking- urk!”

She grabbed your throat and pinned you to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Y/n... The world needs me.”

You began to kick and cry, but Tenko was strong.

Somehow, you kicked her in the knee.

“Ah!”

She loosened her grip and you ran out of the room as fast as you could.

“HELP! SOMEBODY! RANTARO!”

Teko was chasing you. The school was big and you were in a weird spot, so there weren’t many other people nearby.

You were about to run down the stairs when you suddenly tripped and fell down the whole flight.

You landed on the ground crying in pain.

Tenko caught up and pinned you down again.

“I’ll make it quick, okay?!”

You shook your head, terrified.

Just as she was about to snap your neck, you heard a voice...

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”

Tenko got off of you just as Rantaro pulled you close.

He glared at her, furious.

“Leave. Now.”

Tenko ran off to who knows where and Rantaro took a look at your injuries.

“Oh my god... You fell so hard, baby...”

He gently picked you up, holding you bridal style.

“Let’s go get you patched up, okay?”

“O-Okay...”

You nuzzled into his chest, crying quietly.

“It’s okay now, little one... Big brother’s here...”

Nagito:

The 1st class trial shook you to your core.

You had never seen your big brother like that.

You chose to stay away from him for a bit to get yourself together.

So, you grabbed some snacks and has a picnic on the beach.

It was peaceful. You loved going to the beach when you were little.

Nagito was the one who taught you to swim. You were only three.

You smiled softly, listening to the waves.

However, your spell was broken when someone kicked sand at you.

You sighed and looked over.

“Ugh... Hiyoko, what was that for?!”

She had been bullying you since your first met.

She wasn’t as mean to you as she was to Mikan, but you were her target when she couldn’t find her.

“Duh! It’s cuz you and your dumb brother smell like pig barf!”

You sighed and stood up, gathering your garbage.

“I’m going to my cottage...”

You threw your garbage in the trash and started walking as Hiyoko followed you, mocking you.

You were a lot more sensitive than your brother, you it was starting to get to you.

“Please stop...”

She snickered and grabbed your wrist.

Hiyoko was small, but you were slightly smaller.

That’s one of the issues that came with being the youngest in the group.

“P-Please let me go...”

She laughed quietly.

“You know what is good about you Y/n?”

“W-What?”

She reached into her pocket.

“You’re smaller than me... So I’m able to get rid of you easily!”

“W-What does t-that-”

You finally saw what she pulled out of her pocket.

It was a knife.

“H-Huh?!”

She smirked evilly.

“Just take a big breath and it will all be- hurgh!”

One advantage to having a very overprotective big brother is that he insisted you take self defense classes.

You managed to get out of her grip and run.

“GET BACK HERE!”

She was fast.

Very fast.

You were running with every ounce of strength you had, crying.

“N-NAGITO! HELP ME! NAGITO!”

You didn’t know where he was. That was the worst part.

You couldn’t run to your big brother for protection.

You kept running. Tears were blurring your vision and all you heard was-

“Y/n?”

“NAGITO!”

You ran towards his voice and threw your arms around him, shaking.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

You clung to his jacket with shaking fists.

“H-Hiyoko... K-Knife... T-Tried to-”

“I see... Well, come with me.” “O-Okay...”

He picked you up and held you against his chest, carrying you to his cottage.

Once there, he sat on his bed and cradled you like a baby.

“Everything’s alright now, my hope... Everything is alright...”

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

Maybe your big brother wasn’t such a freak after all...

Kazuichi:

You were playing in the beach house.

There were some playing cards there, and Kazuichi taught you how to play solitaire when you were younger for days when he was too busy to play with you.

Right now, he was talking with some of the big kids to try and figure out a way to escape.

The killing game was scary, and you saw Byakuya’s body...

You shook your head and went back to playing your game.

Just as you finished and started shuffling the cards to play again, you heard the door open.

You looked and saw Sonia walk in.

“Hi Sonia!”

“Hello there, Y/n!”

You usually didn’t see Sonia, since she avoided Kazuichi.

She sat at the table across from you.

“Solitaire, I see...”

“Yup! Kaz taught me!”

She seemed surprised.

“I see... You two must be very close.”

“You betcha! Kaz is my best friend! He always protects me and plays with me!”

She smiled again, watching as you got ready to play another game.

“Y/n, I need to ask a favor of you...”

“What is it? I wanna help!”

She stood up and reached into her pocket.

“Y/n, as you know, I have a kingdom... And I cannot die here, as I am the only heir of Novoselic...”

You started to get nervous as she reached into her pocket...

...and pulled out an ice pick.

“W...What’s that?”

“It’s called an ice pick... Do you remember how Byakuya died?”

Your eyes widened in fear.

“I-I don’t wanna... I-I want Kaz!”

She laughed quietly.

“That’s another reason to get rid of you... Revenge for him harassing me!”

Terrified, you backed against the wall.

“S-Sonia p-please don’t! I-I’ll tell him to s-stop! We can all w-work together! No one else has to d-die!”

She shook her head no.

“I need to live... I NEED TO ESCAPE!”

She raised her weapon and you screamed-

-and then she was on the ground.

“H-Huh?!”

You looked up and saw Kazuichi with a clenched fist. He was shaking, too.

“K-Kazuichi! This isn’t what it looks like!”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you close.

“Leave.”

You had never seen your brother so angry.

Sonia was shocked.

“How dare you-”

“I SAID LEAVE!”

She growled and stormed out of the beach house.

Once she was gone, Kazuichi knelt down.

“Are you okay?! Did you get hurt?! I-I’ll go find- Y/n?”

You started to cry.

“H-Hey! Uhh... I-It’s okay! You’re safe now.”

He pulled you close and kissed your head.

“Let’s go find some help, alright?”

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa x reader #rantaro amami #rantaro amami x reader #rantaro amami imagines #Nagito Komaeda #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda imagines #kazuichi soda #kazuichi soda x reader #kazuichi soda imagines #x reader #sister reader #mod mizuki

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Miranda x Mia---- Eternal

A Ko-Fi commission I wrote for the wonderful @saltwatereulogies. Thank you so very much for the support and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Drip. Splatter.

The first sound you’re aware of is that of the occasional waterdrop crashing onto the same humid, uneven floor you’re lying on.

The second is the sound of her voice.

“Rise and shine.” she says, somewhere off to the side. You are still too disoriented to pinpoint exactly where.

You’re not dizzy enough, though, to not immediately realize you’re trapped. The way the light behind your captor shines makes it all the more obvious, casting large shadows in the shape of your prison bars across your small, moldy cell.

“Y-you…” you struggle to talk. Your throat is too dry and your temples pound like a war drum. It feels like you’ve collided with a truck. And yet her voice commanding you to sleep is the last thing you remember.

“I haven’t formally introduced myself. Though I’m sure your friend has told you about me.”

You blink to make your vision focus yet it’s hopeless. She is but a dark blur to you –am I hallucinating or are those wings?

“My name is Miranda.”

Suddenly, that name snaps everything into focus so sharply you could get whiplash. You’re on your knees the next second, just about ready to leap at her. She’s the one. The one Chris warned you about. She may look like an angel but she is a devil.

“I don’t care who the hell you are! What do you want from me?!” you demand.

“Your cooperation in my experiments, for starters.” she says it calmly, but she is no fool to believe you’ll just agree to that, you can see it in her crystal-blue eyes.

“Ha! As if!” you retort.

“Well. That answer will change when I have Rose.” The name of your daughter makes every nerve ending in your body kick at once.

“What. Like Ethan will just hand her over to the likes of you?”

“Actually.”

A slow smirk crosses her full lips. Then their shape changes to match yours. All of her does, until you are left looking at a perfect mirror of yourself. Only, there’s no way you look quite that good inside of this shitty cell.

“He’ll hand her over to you.”

When she laughs, it is your own voice haunting your ears.

She has your daughter. She has your everything in her hands. So, she has your cooperation, as well.

Miranda doesn’t really talk when she comes to collect blood samples for whatever experiments she needs them. Your initial cries and questions were muted the second she told you the more helpful and less annoying you are, the more inclined she’ll feel to bring Rose to you for a while.

In the end, you do let yourself be her docile little lab rat.

Until you literally can’t take the silence anymore.

“Was it really… that easy?” ‘To enter my home and take my daughter’ you want to add but you can’t even get the words past your throat.

She seems to understand, though. “Effortless.” she isn’t being cocky as she says it. In fact, she seems almost surprised herself. At least, from the angle you get of her face, while she’s studying a strange rock-like substance under a microscope.

“How the hell did Ethan not figure out you aren’t me?!” That moron. He just gave your daughter to her. That clueless moron!

For a split second, you see her lip twitch in what could, perhaps, be a withheld smile. “I was there for a day, so. Seems like your husband doesn’t know you quite that well.”

Is it really fair to blame him for not knowing you, though? With the secrets you’ve kept from him? The distance? The trauma from the shared nightmare you experienced coming back to you every time you even looked at him?

God, Rose really is the only thing that kept you together, isn’t she…

It’s easy to hate the accursedly beautiful bitch outside your cell. It’s easy to blame Ethan for not even suspecting something was amiss with you for a whole damn day.

It is not so easy to blame yourself as much as you do them.

Miranda replies when you ask her things, so you ask her about herself. To your surprise, she does not shroud her motives from you.

She has lost her daughter, she tells you, and the only way to get her back is through yours. For the first time since you met her, you see emotion clearly expressed in her eyes and voice. You recognize how she longs to be with her child again.

You can understand the never-ending grief of a mother losing her offspring. You know if anything happened to Rose you would rather fling yourself off a cliff than live a life without her.

And apparently, that is what she tried to do, too. She tried to die –and discovered life instead. That is what she calls it, anyway. All you can hear as she explains is that she found –and founded— the Mold. The same one that ruined your husband and you.

One more reason to hate the psycho witch.

And yet.

When you try to reach for the rage you previously held for her, you find that it’s gone. You’re bitter, you’re exhausted, you want to cry and above everything you want to see Rose again. But you don’t loathe her as you should.

“What do you mean… the only way to get Eva back is through Rose?” you dare ask after several minutes of silence.

She turns to look at you, eyes as piercing as they are blue. “Technically, the trade is simple.” Maybe you’re losing it from the stress and lack of sleep, but you think she almost hesitates for a second. “…a life for a life.”

As soon as she speaks and the meaning of her words registers in your mind, you’re gripping at the rusty iron bars with all your might, rattling them, shouting profanities at her. You are back to hating her all over again. It’s much simpler this way.

Until… she walks over and grabs your hand over the metal. Her touch is oddly warm for such a glacial heart. You cannot tell what she does to you, but it feels like an aura flowing through your system that silences you. Calms you. You do not want to be calm.

“I wasn’t finished.” she speaks. “That is where the experiments with you come in. By running tests on your blood and Rose’s and using my DNA as a medium, during the ritual I can trick the Megamycete into giving me what I want through a form of mitosis. Essentially, cell duplication that will not override the existing vessel.”

To be honest… you lost her midway through the very first sentence. You were quite good with biology back in the day but right now, in the state you’re in, science is going right over your head.

“...Is there an English version of that.” you ask.

Her mouth curves into that almost-smile again. It would be quite gorgeous, actually, if she hadn’t kidnapped you, infiltrated your home as you and abducted your daughter.

“If the tests succeed, you get your daughter back, I get mine from cloned DNA and Mold cells.” There’s a hint of pride in her voice as she says it.

And now, assuming she’s telling the truth, you want those tests to succeed more than you want to get out of here. Her hand leaves yours and the weird calm she blasted into you dissipates with it.

“Wait. So…” Realization strikes you like a thunderclap. “So these tests are for me?”

“You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you, you crazy b—blonde.” You rattle the iron bars again, a tad weaker than before. She does smirk over the microscope, this time. “How likely are the tests to succeed?” you ask impatiently.

“Quite.” she replies, flat once again.

“…And if they don’t?” you hate how your voice shakes there, at the end.

She looks at you, dead in the eyes, as she answers: “I am getting my daughter back either way, Mia.”

You can’t believe it. You cannot believe you’re thinking this, but you hope the crazy bitch knows what she’s doing.

Miranda is… despicable, but she is a woman of her word.

She brings you Rose for hours at a time and in exchange you help her outside of your cell. You thought your daughter would be in a worse condition, considering who keeps her, yet she’s healthy as ever, well-fed and clean. The worst part is, she laughs every time Miranda comes close and she even reaches out for her.

“No, my darling, don’t do that.” you tell her, tucking her tighter in your arms, before the woman behind you notices what’s happening.

Except it’s too late. “Ah, I see.” Miranda speaks, coming up to you from behind. She’s tall enough to lean over your shoulder and wave at Rose, who moves both hands towards her. “A lady of taste.” the woman praises and the lightness to her voice almost makes her sound like someone else. Someone normal.

“Stop it.” You turn your child away from her. “She’s just confused because you’re lit up like a Christmas tree.” You motion with your chin at her getup.

Miranda chuckles. “What. She senses our bond. Rose feels safe with me.”

Safe with the monster who wants to sacrifice her to get her own child back. You cannot swallow that thought down. “But she’s not, is she?!” you snap.

“She is.” Miranda reverts to her cool facade, glancing down at your daughter. “I will never let anything hurt her. And when she gives me Eva back, I will make sure she grows up bathed in luxury.”

It’s the Mold, you’re sure of it.

It’s the Mold’s fault that you believe her.

You were supposed to see Rose today. Instead, Miranda comes into the cave alone, looking irritated. You start to worry. Nothing phases her without a good reason. What if—

“Where’s my daughter?!” you demand, eyes wide.

“We have a problem.” she tells you. Your blood goes cold in your veins. “A problem named Ethan Winters.”

“Ethan?” you gasp.

“He is trying to get Rose back and according to reports from the Lords under me, he cannot be killed. His hand got cut off and he just reattached it. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” she’s certain that you know. You can see it in her steely eyes.

“I— why would I—”

“Before you think to lie to me, hear something else. I bear good news, as well.” Miranda says. “I have succeeded in my experiments. During the ritual, I can guarantee Rose will remain unharmed and unchanged.” the edge of her lip curls up as she delivers the news. You almost cry from the sheer relief.

You almost leap forward and hug her, yet you remember who she is and that she caused this mess in the first place.

“But my conditions have changed.” her voice is a sword that cuts off your happiness just like that. You knew it was too good to be true. “For me to save Rose, you will tell me how to permanently get rid of Ethan Winters.”

…What?

She wants you to… trade your daughter for your husband? How the hell can I do that?!

“He has ruined too much for me to let him walk away happily now.” Her jaw is tight enough to sprout new lines on her flawless face. She wants him dead and she always gets what she wants. “He has killed colleagues of mine. Spat in the face of a damn-near god. I will have his head.”

The corners of your eyes sting with welling tears. Your body is far more honest than you in making a decision. Nobody is too important to sacrifice when it comes to your daughter. Not yourself. Not Ethan. And Miranda knows this better than anybody else. You loathe how she knows.

“Give him to me, Mia. And in a few days this whole thing will be over.” she continues in a significantly softer tone, getting closer to you. Her wings shift, the very edge of black feathers brushing your arms.

“You want me to aid in killing the father of my child?!” you sob, grabbing at her clothes. You’d expect her to shove you away, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t even blink.

“You have been so cooperative and so brave.” she soothes, gold-taloned fingers coming underneath your chin. “Make one last sacrifice for me. Help me murder Ethan so Rose can live. Help me and I vow to be her eternal guardian angel. Hers and yours.”

She could just force the answer out of you. She’s touching you and you know she has that power. But she doesn’t do it and it’s far worse this way. She wants it to be your choice.

You look away from Miranda’s icy eyes and her promises of everything.

And you tell her.

You do not ask about Ethan. All that’s in your mind is the ceremony.

For the entire morning, you cannot breathe. You trace notes in her lab and pace around until you literally feel like you’ll explode—

And then Miranda comes in. She is radiant, smiling from ear to ear, glowing with pure joy. She looks every part the goddess she pretends to be. The golden circle usually adorning her back is gone, her long blonde hair is left free to flow like fine strands of silk past her square shoulders.

“It is done!” she tells you, a hand extended for you to take. “Come. I’ll take you to Rose and you will be the first to meet Eva.”

Her hand is warm when it closes around yours. Black wings shroud you both. There is a gravitational pull around you that’s so intense you shut your eyes and grab onto her biceps for dear life.

“You can look, now.” she speaks once the world is stable again. Your gut is churning, yet every bit of exhaustion and discomfort vanish the second you see Rose. She is safe within the first of the two golden cribs in front of you, bathed by the soft sunlight that disperses across the luxurious, dark-tiled chamber you’re in.

You run towards her, lifting your daughter in your arms and kissing her forehead over and over. She laughs at you, blue eyes crinkled. My love. My everything, you think. Everything was worth it for this moment. And you would do it all again, to ensure her safety.

Miranda’s steps, regal and authoritative, come to a stop near the other crib. You lean closer, take a look… to see another little angel there, sleeping peacefully. She resembles Rose, yet she resembles Miranda, too.

“Oh my God.” you breathe. “You really did it.”

“I did it and you and Rose made it possible, Mia.” she says. Your child extends a tiny hand towards her. She removes one of her claws and lets her finger be taken in your baby’s grip. “You don’t have to leave. She loves me already.” A proud smile curves her lips.

You hate how it looks like a sunrise.

You hate it even more that you understand why Rose is so charmed.

“Her mom can grow to love me, too.” Crystal eyes look into your own. “There is no place safer than by my side. Stay and we will raise them together. You won’t have to fear disease or death with me. You and Rose will have every little thing you could ever want. Forever.”

You don’t want your child to be co-patented by this selfish megalomaniac, who is the killer of her father. But. Then you stop to consider what you have been through until now. Nightmare after nightmare; this vicious cycle does not look like it will be broken. One thing or another will haunt you and hunt you wherever you go. You don’t want that life for Rose.

You won’t accept that life for Rose.

“…we will stay. But you can forget that part about me growing any fonder of you than I am now.”

Miranda nods, but something in her expression is so damn cocky you want to smack her. “Oh, what’s that, Rose? You can tell your mother is lying, too? My genius girl.”

Your jaw drops. She is my genius girl!

Miranda then touches your chin and tilts it up. You don’t want to be any closer to the gorgeous fucking witch, but when she stops there, hovering just over your mouth for a skipped heartbeat, looking down at you with those crystalline eyes of hers, you’re paralyzed.

Her lips slide over your own for just one slick, hot second. When she pulls back, she caresses Rose’s cheek and winks at you.

“I hate you.” you say, yet it holds no real bite. God, you’re exhausted.

“That’s alright. We have all the time in the world to change that.”

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #mother miranda #mia winters #mother miranda x mia #fanfiction #rosemary winters #rose winters #ethan winters #comission #writing #Where Miranda wins and takes everything and more #hail winged hottie goddess

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

I present to you overworked. A comfort one shot I made hella quick for @mindninjax myself and anyone else who needs some bakugou comfort today. Please enjoy and let Bakugou be here for you if no one else can. 😊

Header by me!

Your phone softly vibrates on your desk as your eyes burn from staring at a screen filled with information that is familiar, information that you should know but just cannot retain.

Or focus.

So your phone is a happy distraction as you reach for it, only to be slightly annoyed by to a message from your hot headed friend.

Grumpyasshole: Oi, haven't heard from you in that stupid ass group chat all week. Dunce face and shitty hair wanna know what's pissed in your cheerios

Tongue in your cheek you debate on replying. You had ignored a slew of messages from your friends, in the group chat and even your dms sat smiling faces trapped in their little bubbles but you had always turned your phone face down. Too caught up in stress to be able to fulfill any social quota but your friends must have been desperate to convince the token grump of the group to message you. Privately at that.

In a matter of seconds your thumbs slide across the virtual keyboard, knowing you could be honest with Bakugou, that the Pro hero could handle any sort of emotional load with ease.

You thought it most likely because he did not care in the first place to store the baggage, at least not anywhere for long.

You: Just feeling really run down from work. I think I'm over my head but probably too prideful to admit. Lol. Please tell everyone I'm sorry, that I'm just busy and I'll be back on my bullshit hopefully by Friday.

Before you can even set your phone down you see that Bakugou leaves you on read. Your snort softly as you shake your head, tossing your phone aside for work.

"Typical." You mutter to yourself. Reaching for your iced coffee only to find it empty. You debate if you should take a trip to get more. On one hand the air, despite the rain would do you good, you're sure your deskmate would gladly take a coffee. On the other, everyone in the office would stuff your hands with bills and credit cards begging you'd bring them some of that sweet nectar back. No one would care that you wouldn't haven't a hand for your umbrella and your hair would get totally fucked.

So you decide to suffer in silence, as you always do.

Hours slip through your fingers before your eyes glance at the small clock on the bottom right hand side of your computer. Steadily counting the minutes in the small banner. You sigh. Bringing your head down between your arms as your fingers lightly fist your hair at your nape. You felt as if you accomplished nothing, what with how much was left.

At least your desk was clean and your shirt was cute, a good view for a few spine numbing minutes. You think you smell caramel wafting through the air, a part of you annoyed that your desk mate would venture the rain for her normal caramel latte without offering

This is how Bakugou finds you when he approaches your desk, a sneer settled on his handsome features. Dirt and sweat clinging to his skin and the dark fabric of his hero suit. He crosses his arms, long gone are the obnoxious grenade gauntlets as his chest puffs.

People in the office are staring at the blonde, his jagged domino mask making his garnet eyes that much more intense. Tension rises in the air as you're so oblivious, still collecting yourself silently praying that when you look back up the clock would read closer to five.

"Oi." His voice is a deep rumble, not belonging in the office. No it belonged in the living room of your crazy packed house to one of your many roommates. It belonged at a bar, nagging that it's time to go when you were too drunk to fend off any prying hands, pestering you about your feet as he dragged you home. This voice belonged in the kitchen fussing at Denki for the stupid memes he puts in the group chat when all of you were 'right fucking here'.

This voice did not belong in the office and so a part of you thinks you're seriously losing your shit before you glance up at the clock. Time moved like a sloth for you since the last you looked only ten minutes had passed. Kronos laughing at your plea of having time continue to move as light speed only to seemingly stop.

"OI! Is yer head so far up yer ass ya can't fuckin hear me now, Princess?" Wait, who was using that nickname?

That nickname thrust upon you by that grumpy asshole roommate once he saw how "high maintenance" you were when clearly you just cared about yourself for yourself. He did it as a jest but it made your whole body heat and go rigid every damn time.

And he took notice in it.

Delight even.

And took notice in the way you hadn't been putting in much effort for yourself. Not taking the time for your hair, or your skincare routine that you forced on the whole house. Everyone dewy in their own right. How you look disheveled and bewildered now as you turned to face him.

Large eyes going doe like, mouth forming in the smallest O that had him shifting his weight from one foot to the other because of his darker, lingering thoughts.

How would you sound when he was buried…

He cuts the thought off with a pop of his skin, pulling you to your feet from your desk.

"What are you doing?" Your voice cracks from shock, worry and a bit of venom leaks through but you make no effort to break free.

"Wrap this shit up. I told yer boss I need your dumb ass for something."

"Like what? I-" Bakugou cuts you off by leaning in close, eyes dark as he presses his lips to the shell of your ear.

"You need a fucking day off. So I told your boss to fuck off and that you're coming home with me." His tone absolute. So you save your last bit of work, clock out before Bakugou passes you your jacket. He glares into the glass of your manager's office and you notice him crumble beneath that infamous burning gaze.

Part of you wonders what Bakugou had really said, wonders if you'd still had a job.

The two of you stand under the awning of your office building. The rain coming down in sheets, thick enough it almost blurs the cityscape. Bakugou sighs, tension leaving his body as he tilts his neck. It cracks from the effort.

"So what...what are we gonna do?"

"I'm going to take your stupid ass home. Force you to shower while I order take out, then I'm going to set your overworked ass on the couch and we are going to watch that fucking movie you never shut up about. Got it Princess?" He fixes you a glare and is extra careful to drag out your nickname ever so slightly as he leans towards you. Your faces are close together, your heart in your throat as you try to push down these stupid, fleeting feelings you've had for the hot head since the six of you moved into that almost run down house.

But you never could shake them.

You senses fill with spiced caramel, easing the tension of your shoulders.

"G-got it."

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou comfort #bakugo comfort #bnha au #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader

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