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d-dixonimagines · 2 months

Text

PROMPT REQUEST from this list from @daryls-wife

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to get this posted! I honestly have no idea what my plan was for this one, the direction changed every time I started over! But nevertheless, I hope you still like it! Warnings: mild language, a lot of typos probably

PROMP 17: "You're bleeding--how long have you been hiding this?"

A lot had happened the past few days while you and Daryl were out doing an exchange with The Kingdom; giving weapons in exchange for some crates of fruits and vegetables. It was a never ending run-in with walkers, a couple encounters with lone individuals who were desperate enough to try and steal some of the food you were bringing back.

For as short of a trip this was supposed to be you were completely exhausted. Eventually you convinced Daryl to stop for the night, though he didn't fully understand why you felt you needed to when you were so close to home. It was only a few more hours, but you were desperate as well.

Finding a run down convenience store, you cleared the area for walkers and tried to make yourselves comfortable. Daryl found a spot on the floor by the window, adjusting his position against the hard tile. "I don't think we'll be gettin' much sleep, my ass is already goin' numb," he grumbled as he moved once more before finally settling.

"I'm sorry," you smiled a little in response. "I just needed a break. We can keep going and make it back before it gets too late, but I really just need to rest for a while." You settled next to him, moving slowly and wincing slightly when your side brushed against one of the crates.

"Nah, we'll be ok. Looks like we might get some rain anyway." You nodded in agreement. Daryl watched you for a moment. "You doin' ok, though?" he asked gently, noticing how you sat down. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just sore, and my feet are killing me. It's probably time to be on the lookout for different shoes."

He gave a nod, not really responding. The rest of the evening went on pretty much like that. Small talk here and there. Daryl took watch first and let you sleep before switching a few hours later. You got going again just before the sun came up, arriving back at Alexandria as people were starting their day.

After getting the crates dropped off where they needed to be, you and Daryl headed back to your shared abode and planned on relaxing a bit before tending to whatever else needed to be done. "I'm gonna take a long shower, if anyone needs to find me." Daryl nodded, his eyes catching glimpse of your side and a wet sticky substance that was seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

He caught your arm to stop you. "You're bleedin'... how long have you been hidin' this?" You turned your body slightly so his hand would drop. "It's nothing, just a scrape from a scuffle we had with a walker." "On which day?" His gaze was direct, probably already guessing when it had happened. You hesitated a second before answering.

"When we were at the tracks.." "That was three days ago." "Yeah, so? I told you, it's nothing." There was another silence. You knew it was more serious than you were trying to let on, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. You just needed to clean it and bandage it up and you'd be good as new.

"Can I see it, then?" You gave a defeated sigh and peeled the shirt back so he could take a look. "I was going to go to the infirmary after my shower," you defended. "Why didn't'cha just say somethin'?" "I didn't want to turn it into a bigger deal than it was. We were close enough to here that I knew you would have probably made me turn back, and I didn't want to leave."

"Comin' back wouldn't've been a big deal. Waitin' three days and practically bein' forced to acknowledge is what's doin' that, let alone the risk you put yerself in for infection. So now it is a big fuckin' deal." You dropped your hands and took a step back, wanting to just walk away from the conversation. You knew he was coming from a place of protection and concern, but you didn't have the patience or the energy to be scolded at.

"I have it under control, Daryl. I can take care of myself." You turned and headed for the bathroom, Daryl following close behind. "I know ya can, just wish you'd be more open about stuff like this. If you're hurt, you should be able to tell me.." "Oh, because you're so open with me? Mr. guy who leaves for weeks at a time without saying a single word about it? Open like that?" "That's different and you know that."

You shook your head. "It's really not. Your reasons might be different, but the concept is still the same." You walked over to the tub and sat down on the edge, feeling sick and drained, and you didn't know if it was because you were tired and hungry or if it was because of the aching, oozing wound on your side. All bets were probably on the latter.

"...I don't feel so hot.." you placed your hand on your forehead. "I mean, I do feel hot, but still..." "A fever's probably settin' in. We should get to the infirmary." Daryl helped you up, with zero protests from you, and let you to the doctor. At some point you must have passed out because the next thing you remember was waking up in a bright room and Daryl right next to you.

"Mornin', sunshine," he smirked slightly. "What happened?" "Ya passed out on the way here from dehydration and an infection startin' to set in. The doc got ya fixed up, though, so you'll be okay."

You nodded, processing the information. You hadn't realized how bad it had gotten. There was a silence that fell between you, and you could tell that he wanted to say more.

"If you want to say 'I told you so', go ahead and do it," you chuckled slightly. "I can see that you want to." He shook his head. "That's not what I wanna say, I'm not gonna rub anythin' in, I just.. I hated seein' you like that. Ya can't mess with infections." His tone was soft. "I know... I'm sorry," you whispered. "I'm also really sorry about picking that fight with you earlier. I didn't intend for anything to go that far."

"That was just the fever talkin', yer good. I'll make a deal with ya, though.." "Oh, yeah? What deal is that?" "I'll open up more about stuff if you will. Doesn't hav'ta be everythin', just if you're hurt or going somewhere. We just check in with each other. That sound fair?"

You let out a quiet sigh and paused a moment before agreeing, hoping he wasn't making that deal because he felt like he had to. Him leaving didn't have to be anybody else's business, it was just disappointing when you couldn't find him and found out from someone else that he left.

You weren't complaining about the deal itself, though. You were relieved that he was going to start saying something, but you hoped he was doing that because he wanted to and not just because he thought that was the only way to get you to open up. "That sounds like a fair deal." You gave a smile regardless, accepting it all for what it was.

"Alright then.." he gave a satisfied nod. "I got us some food. I figured you'd probably be hungry when you woke up." "Yes, please, I'm starving!" Your eyes brightened as he handed you a plate of food, some eggs and fruit from the crates you brought back. As bad as things got, you were relieved that it wasn't any worse, and you felt pretty lucky to have Daryl by your side through all of it.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #d-dixonimagines #norman reedus #twd daryl dixon

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Demon Brothers React to MC Getting Kidnapped by Lesser Demons.

Watch out for minor first half spoilers!!

Lucifer

Kicking himself because he has to find out through Mammon that the MC is missing and he didn’t notice their absence himself.

The second the alarm gets raised he gets into a state somewhere between coldly rational and extraordinarily furious.

Definitely still level-headed enough to rally and organize his brothers for a search party but there's nothing but seething rage just rolling off of him the entire time. Probably-could-have-made-another-Satan type rage.

How well he keeps his composure will be based entirely on how long the MC is MIA. The first hour or so will be mostly put together but past that he'll start to slowly unravel as the panic takes hold.

At one point he even gets snippy with Diavolo over the phone and that's when you KNOW that he's reaching meltdown mode.

If he's the first to find the MC, his #1 priority is to get them away from whatever scum grabbed them and take them to the closest safe place he can find. He'd scoop them up so fast they won't even know where he came from, just whoosh! How'd I get on this roof??

Only once they're out of harm’s way will he circle back and deal with their kidnappers personally. You better be sure any damage done to his human will be reflected a thousandfold back onto their attackers. Probably coming back to the MC with some blood on him and is not going to care.

Relieved to have the MC back but restricts them from going out alone after a certain time now for their own good. If they need something that badly, they can come to him.

Also strings Mammon up by his toes that night for losing them in the first place.

"By the time Cerberus gets to you, I'll be sure you're only my table scraps…"

Mammon

The first to notice that the MC was being oddly quiet (thank their father for his text spamming habit) then found their stuff scattered and abandoned at RAD.

Told Lucifer right away and, oh boy, he is a mess: talking a mile a minute, punctuating his sentences with expletives, on the verge of tears, whole nine yards.

He left his human alone for what?? Like five minutes, if even, to go to the library and get themselves kidnapped?! What kind of guardian is he?!?

Already searching the place top-to-bottom without being told where to go or what to do.

He actually ends up a strange inverse of Lucifer. While Lucifer will start panicking more over time, Mammon will start panicking less as his fear escalates to all out anger. Give it a few hours and he’s not even going to be able to keep his demon form under control anymore.

You know this boy is legging it across the entire Devildom himself waving around some kind of hand-drawn "Have You Seen This Human?" flyer looking for any leads at all.

If he were to find the MC first, his first action would probably be to plant his foot right in the face of whoever took them. Hard. Then repeat until their skull’s a caved-in mess on floor. No mercy this time, just pure protective rage.

Following the fight, you'd think he was just reunited with his lost puppy. Lots of crying, hugging, and blubbering out apologies even when the rest of his brothers show up.

Would pretty much be glued to the MC's hip for at least a week afterward and makes more of a point to hang off of them in public now. They're his human after all, can't have anyone else getting the idea of pulling a stunt like that again.

"MC!! What'd ya go runnin' off for?? We're goin' home after I take out this trash, got it!!"

Leviathan

Wouldn't really want to believe it at first because it just feels too unreal, like, the same thing happened to Henry in Episode 86 of TSL when he was kidnapped by enemies of the Lord of Fools and it was up to his true friend to track him down…

Suddenly remembers that Henry was also tortured while he was taken and that really sets in the panic.

Unsure of how to help at first because he knows he's just a useless shut-in but Belphie of all people is the one to remind him that he does have one big advantage over his brothers: a fucking navy.

In an act of surprising backbone, he more or less demands a full fleet of ships from Diavolo and (honestly to his shock) he gets exactly that to comb the Devil’s Sea while looking for MC. Lotan even helps out!

If he were to be the first to find the MC (presuming they are indeed on a boat or something cause 🤷‍♀️) those kidnappers really shouldn't have challenged the third strongest brother in his natural element, eh? Those who aren't automatically lashed in the face or flung overboard by his tail get hung by the leg over the edge of the ship for Lotan to pick off one by one.

Sails back to shore with MC booming with pride that he of all people finally got to be their hero! Will literally be so happy if MC ever brings it up again, doesn't matter how much time has passed.

Things would settle back to normal pretty quickly after that, but he now checks up on the MC a lot more often and will even leave his room for them if they need to go somewhere and don't want to go alone. Can't have this turning into a rerun, you know?

"You hurt my only friend… So drown."

Satan

One guess how the Avatar of Wrath took the news. It's not swimmingly.

Unless your definition of "swimmingly" is a murderous rampage of toppling furniture, breaking windows, and swearing to curse right about anything that moves, in which case aptly put.

He gets stuck in an anger-induced tantrum for a bit before finally getting snapped back into coherent thought by Belphie and putting those mystery novels of his to good use. Smart boi takes second to Lucifer himself in the search, suggesting good locations for his brothers scout based on what clues they have to go on.

Of course, he's not content to just to call orders from the sidelines and is out searching himself like he's on the goddamn warpath. Doors? Who needs doors? If anything the hole I made in your wall is more efficient.

Should he be the first to find the MC he would coolly and methodically subdue any kidnapper he can get his hands on, release his human, and bring them home as soon as possible. They've been through quite enough today and don't need to see anything he's got planned for the bastards later.

But the second that Diavolo puts them in the castle dungeon, you best bet that Henry 1.0 is going to the LEAST of their worries. Who's ever wanted to play a life or death game of hide and seek with a giant snake and the incarnation of Wrath itself? First one caught gets the "quick" death! Any volunteers?

Might give the MC a mild scolding for going out when they shouldn't have but otherwise is just happy to see them back and safe. May act extra soft towards them for a couple days, just until the nerves of the situation finally wear off.

"Don't mistake this for mercy. I assure you, I don't know the meaning of the word."

Asmodeus

Highkey freaking out, like, almost as hysterical as Mammon when he hears the news.

Being the Avatar of Lust, he of course knows there's a whole lot of creeps out there in the world and he is utterly terrified that his poor MC has fallen victim to one at that moment.

For once, all thoughts of himself and his looks are out the window. What? It's past 2am and MC is still gone? I can stay up another hour! Dry shampoo and a washcloth counts as a shower, right? Who the fuck cares, where's MC?? Somebody find them already!!

Pools his contact list with Satan's and starts reaching out across the whole Devildom asking for people to be on the lookout and offer tips. Also begs Solomon to use his magic to help in the search (which he's more than happy to do anyway because he cares about the MC too)

If he were to find MC first it'd be one of those rare cases where he'd be seen really truly enraged. No cute banter, no playful flirting, just telling those worthless scum-vats exactly where they belong and exactly how he's going to put them there. Is it any surprise that he's also madsick with a whip?

Crazy relieved that MC is free, but now it's on them to help him clean up and get back to his prettiest self. I mean, he worried himself half to death while they were gone! All this dirt and sweat going to take three, no four, bathes to fully clean off!! Best hop to it~♡

"Touch them one more time and I'm going to set fire to whatever landfill trash like you crawls out of!!"

Beelzebub

It can't be happening. It honestly can't be happening. First he loses Lilith and now MC?? He can't lose two. He. Can't. Lose. Two.

Pretty much the mantra going through his head as he tears the Devildom apart with his bare hands.

It's 1000x worse than how he gets when he's hungry because at least then he might stop when he finally gets fed. Now it's either find MC or wait until he collapses from exhaustion and hope he doesn’t leave the whole realm a smoldering crater before he gets that far.

There's no reasoning with him either, the best the brothers can do is steer him in a direction and let him loose.

If he found MC first he probably wouldn't even realize it for a bit, he'd just keep attacking whatever or whoever is in front of him on his path of blind destruction. It'd take the MC literally flinging themselves at him or throwing their arms around him to snap him out of it but then it's back to sweetheart Beel.

Hugs ensue. Really tight hugs. Probably a few tears and apologies too (even if it’s not really his fault at all).

Woe to anyone who tries going for the MC once he’s sure he has them because they WILL be broken then eaten. He’ll encourage his human not to look, but some things just have to be done.

Would absolutely carry MC back home and refuse to put them down until the others force him to. The floor may as well be lava planning on taking them away from him too.

Wouldn't care as much about personal vengeance as his brothers as long as MC is safe. He'll trust that his family will more than punish the kidnappers (though chances are he already took a chunk or two out of a few of them during his rampage anyway).

Protective instincts up by 100 after this, though Belphie usually steps in and eases him back a bit when he's about to get suffocating. MC never travels without a buddy now, ever. He just can't risk it.

"MC, I-I'm sorry… I just couldn’t lose you too…"

Belphegor

Keeps the coolest head of all the brothers on the outside, but there's a cold fury building up in those eyes.

Pretty much takes charge of whipping everyone back into gear with a combination stinging remarks and heavy duty guilt tripping. May not be the nicest method, but it's effective.

"Asmo, grow a freaking spine and do something useful for a change! Mammon, this your fault to start with so you ought to be breaking your ass to find them! Satan, watching you is getting embarrassing, pull yourself together and think like you're good at it!"

His harshest criticisms get saved for Lucifer (big shock) but he only dishes them out when he sees his older brother really losing his grip or teetering on losing hope. If the “mighty firstborn” can’t keep it together then why should they even listen to him in the first place?

When he's not administering "motivation," he's keeping tabs on Beel's progression through the Devildom and trying to minimize the damage there. He's the only one that can get through to him long enough to change his course if necessary.

If he were to find the MC first, well, unlike Satan he doesn't have the forethought to save the torture for later. It's happening right here, right now, and you better bet that being the last born doesn't stop him from being a force to be reckoned with.

Waits with the MC for his brothers to catch up to them and deal with any stragglers. May cuddle with them and look like he's trying to take a nap in the meantime, but in truth he's still very alert, on edge, and ready to absolutely wreck shit if anything gets too close to them.

Though it doesn't look like his lazy ass goes through the same protective streak as his brothers, he's a lot quicker to try and convince the MC to stay home now. No out and about=less chance of getting nabbed. Plus he keeps his favorite pillow, win-win. 😏

"What about your worthless lives makes you think you deserve my mercy??"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #shall-we-date-obey-me

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ssamie · 3 years

Text

epilogue. “your girlfriend’s kinda hot”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide and suggestive themes + dirty jokes

masterlist. suicide freak!

"hey uh, welcome to my stream i guess" he said as he spared the camera a quick glance "im not really playing tonight because an incident has recently occurred in this household" kenma said with a tired sigh

nobody else knew it, but the said 'incident' was y/n accidentally setting half of their living room on fire

the reason? apparently, she wanted to try burning herself to death in the furnace. obviously, it didn't work. and all that's left from that is more shit for kenma to clean up and a trip to yosano-san.

kenma is stressed. and y/n is still alive. both of them are facing problems.

"can you please wear a maid outfit- no."

kenma shook his head as he continued playing, glancing at the chat once in a while to read the veiwers' questions and comments

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user: how about cat ears?!

user: ^^ cATBOY CATBOY CATBOY

user: u suck at this game wtf

kuroo.tetsu: hey kenma ;)

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"first of all, i do not suck at minecraft thank you very much" kenma scoffed

"second of all, go away kuroo. im still mad at you"

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user: LMFAOOO kuroo what did u do?? 💀💀

user: he probably broke kenma's pc

user: PLSS he's the one kenma’s throwing shade at on twitter

kuroo.tetsu: STOP THE SLANDER 😔✋🏼

user: rooster head lookin ass

user: ^^ NOT THE HAIR

kuroo.testsu: 😃😃

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma sighed as he continued building a cute little cottage. he was currently vibing, just building y/n a cute cottage for her to probably burn later on.

and he decided it would be nice to go on stream since his oh-so-lovely girlfriend was still out for work.

ah yes, kenma has somehow kept y/n alive all those years.

barely.

hence why his phone was being bombarded with messages from her, all of which being blurry selfies.

the photos had her sporting a huge grin while atsushi panicked in the background.

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user: ayo, ur phone's blowing up

user: do you have a girlfriend?

user: KODZUKEN LET ME SUCK UR TOES 😋😋🤩

user: ^ ayo chill 😃

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma simply ignored them and continued on with his task. all was going well until a loud slam was heard. his cat-like eyes widened as he heard a familiar voice singing from downstairs, it was undoubtedly y/n.

kenma chuckled nervously and muted his mic.

but of course, cute dumb catboy didn't actually mute his mic. haha <3

he ignored all the questions in the chat, all of them being speculations that he has a girlfriend. which he does, but they simply did not need to know that <3

"kenma~" she yelled out "i have a surprise for you!!" she said, followed by menacing giggles.

kenma glanced at the camera before hopping off his gaming chair and peeking his head out of the door.

"y/n, im streaming!! stay down there!" he yelled out in panic

"aw, you're playing hard to get aren't ya?" she chuckled

kenma deadpanned as he saw her limping up the stairs, with her bandages torn and unravelled, same with her clothes. he didn't really think much of it since this is usually how she comes home.

its most likely just due to work and/or another suicide attempt.

"so, kenma.. you'll never know what just happened to me today" she started off with a goofy grin

"im streaming, atleast let me turn it off first-"

she paid no mind to him as she peeled off her ruined coat and pointed to her poorly bandaged stomach

"i got stabbed!"

"you got what?!"

kenma furrowed his brows as he immediately rushed over to his side, cradling her face and waist as he inspected her injuries

"are you okay, kitten?" he asked worriedly

"yep, apparently it wasnt deep enough to be fatal" she sighed dejectedly

"please don't be sad about that." kenma groaned "can you undress?"

"ara ara~ whats this?" she cooed "you're getting real bold, kenma" she smirked at him

she unbuttoned her shirt and started pulling down on her skirt "but since you asked so nicely-"

kenma simply sighed and shook his head. "i was gonna prepare you a bath but now im considering leaving you here to die"

"but the second option would've been better though" she smiled at him

"oh my fucking god."

kozume kenma. (22)

╰─▸ university student, stock trader, pro-gamer, youtuber, ceo of bouncing ball lpt.

╰─▸ y/n's struggling boyfriend. definitely needs a pay after all he's been through.

╰─▸ currently panicking because his girlfriend got stabbed.

l/n y/n. (22)

╰─▸ operative/member of the armed detective agency.

╰─▸ kenma's girlfriend. kinda dumb, very hot to compensate for it. still hasn't died yet.

╰─▸ currently bleeding and wounded. also hoping for severe blood loss.

"kenma, did you know" she mused in a teasing tone "lack of sleep and too much stress could possibly lead to poor memory and lack of awareness"

kenma looked up at her with a look of confusion. he was currently kneeled down before her while she was sat on the bed as he cleaned her wound up with a damp towel.

"why are you telling me this?" he asked

"i just thought it probably applied to you" she snickered

"why? i didnt forget anything-"

he cut himself off with a huge intake of air. he slowly turned his head to look at the screen which still had his stream going on. to make it worse, the camera was on and they were both clearly in the camera's field of view.

to make things worse worse, his mic was on the whole time and the live chat was in shambles.

"i hate it here" he sighed

kenma laid his head on her lap as he continued on patching her up, honestly not caring that this whole scene was being recorded for thousands or millions of people to see.

"well, atleast the internet could finally see my beauty before i die" she laughed

she ran her fingers through kenma's hair as he grumbled under his breath. kenma was a pretty private person. he made sure not to overshare, given his current 'influencer' status. and he was planning on keeping his relationship a secret, though it seems he can't do that anymore.

"might as well say hi" she shrugged

so of course, she then decided to walk up to the camera looking utterly dishevelled and roughed up.

for context, the newly wrapped bandages around her stomach was being stained already by a crimson red hue and it was only getting worse the more she moved, undoubtedly messing up her wound.

"hi, im kenma's girlfriend and if i see you flirting with him i will make you regret it" she grinned

"y/n!" kenma groaned from the bed "you're close to dying right now, turn the stream off"

ignoring him, she proceeded to read the veiwers' comments, laughing at some of them while she joked around.

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user: heLLO?!?!

user: GE HAS A GIRLFRIEND NOOO

user: bruh, did i just hear that right? were you fuckin stabbed?

user: ur kinda hot tho

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma furrowed his brows as he reluctantly walked up behind her, reading the comments with varying reactions

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user: well damn, hot bloody girl comes in and suddenly im lesbian

user: kenma looks so done

kuroo.tetsu: hi y/n ;)

user: HER NAME IS Y/N

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"jesus christ shut up, kuroo" kenma grumbled out with a sigh

"yup! yup! im y/n, and no, i am not a criminal. i swear." she shook her head

"i got an injury from my job, that's all." she cleared up

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: tangina nyo sana ol

user: MSKAKAKKA

user: THIS IS LOWKEY ICONIC

user: time to scratch another gamer boy off my possible bf list 😔

user: girl wtf happened to u

user: that's wack bro 🚶‍♀️

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"great question, random person from the internet!" she beamed "see, what happened was.."

"i went on a certain mission and got severely injured. though, when i called for help nobody responded" she said

kenma furrowed his brows at her words. "why didn't anybody respond?" he asked. she sighed and fiddled with her torn bandages, pouting her lips as she does so.

"well, when i told them that i was finally on death's door, all they said to me was 'congratulations!' and all that.." she said "what's your take on that, hm?" she asked kenma

"im not surprised" he said

she grinned at his words and leaned in for a kiss. "you're so mean to me, kenma~" she whined

she licked her lips as she held his blushing face in her hands, she nuzzled their noses as she leaned in closer to him.

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kuroo.tetsu: oh shit 😳

user: we all know where this is heading ;)

user: sana ol talaga punyemas

user: AYO CHILL

user: why we goin so fuckin fasstttt 😳

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma hastily turned the camera off as soon as y/n's lips touched his.

"kitten, were still- hmph-"

he was only silenced as she slipped her tongue in his mouth, smirking lightly as she ran her fingers through his hair

"thanks babe." she said as she pulled away, giving him a soft peck on his cheek and a nod "anyways.." she hummed as she turned the camera on once again

she looked through the chat while kenma slaps his face to get rid of his blush.

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user: ur fuckin freaky

kuroo.tetsu: oya oya 😼😼

user: MS MAAM I JUST MET U AND I LOVE U ALREADY WJABSJSJJS

user: not me blushing chiiilllleeeeee 🏃‍♀️

user: KENMA IS FLUSTERED

kuroo.tetsu: kenma, i didnt expect this from u 😼

user: im so fucking JEALOUS GRR😡

user: girl r u bleeding rn 😃

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

upon reading a certain comment, she subconsciously grazed her fingers against her bandaged wound. her eyes slightly widening as she felt a concerning amount of wetness seeping through

she glanced at kenma who was still calming himself down and inspected her wound

"oh my.." she muttered, though she couldn't help but let a smile slip through

so like any normal person would do, she simply ignored her bleeding wound and the fact that she was getting a bit lightheaded. haha <3

"anyways, let's answer some questions!" she beamed

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: what's ur full name

user: what's ur job miss girl

user: are you possibly looking for a gf, because i am more

than willing to take the spot 🚶‍♀️

user: how did you meet??

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"alright, those are all very nice questions" she chuckled. kenma, who's now calmed down, sat down beside her to look at the chat.

"first, im l/n y/n" she mused "nice to meet ya"

"second im a detective! mhm, im cooler than your fathers"

"third, it depends, belladonna" she cooed as she sent the camera flirty smirk "are you perhaps willing to join me in a double suicide?"

"oh god.." kenma grumbled. he pouted at her and shook his head in disapproval. "don't flirt with random girls" he whined

"why not?"

"uh- because i am your beloved boyfriend, is that not good enough of a reason??"

"... anyways, we met at a cafe way back in high school" she said with a smile "also, i asked him to join me on a double suicide" she said

she was smiling and nodding as if it was the most normal thing in the world, all while kenma nods along

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: wtf are u okay 🗿

kuroo.tetsu: teenage romance 🤩

user: cute ❤️

user: im concerned ❤️

user: ur a detective?? cool

user: LMAOO I'LL GO ON A DOUBLE SEWER SLIDE

WITH U MOMMY 😩😩😋

user: ^^ SAME 😩

user: CHOKE ME WITH THOSE BANDAGES MOMMAE 😩

user: u r still bleeding 🚶‍♀️

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma was simply glaring at the chat as more compliments and flirtatious comments came flowing in, all of which were directed to his girlfriend.

"this is why i didn't wanna let people know about you.." kenma grumbled

"aww, why not?" she asked with a playful pout

"people are flirting with you." he sighed "also, stop asking for my girlfriend's onlyfans! she doesn't even have one!" he snarled

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: LMAOO CATBOY IS ANGRY 😩

user: y/n-senpai spit on me 😡😡

user: drop the onlyfans

user: chupapi munyanyo 😩

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"anyways, i'd hate to ruin the mood" she chimed in with a sluggish giggle "but im so wet kenma" she whined out

a menacing smirk was etched on her lips as kenma spluttered in response, a bright red hue covering his face almost instantly as he faced her with widened eyes

"y-y/n! why would you say that?!" he whisper shouted

"cuz i am" she whined out as she grabbed his hand and trailed it down her abdomen

she faced the camera and gave them a shit-eating grin as kenma mumbled out incoherent words

"y/n we should-" he cut himself off as he felt the concerning amount of blood drip down his whole arm

kenma's face paled as he looked up to see her smiling like a kid in a candy store, completely unbothered.

"y/n, you idiot! why didn't you tell me!" kenma exclaimed

"um- my girlfriend is bleeding. excessively. so uh- bye i guess" it was all he said before hastily ending his stream and turning off his computer.

"y/n, let's get you to a hospital" he said as he reached down to carry her away. though she simply slapped his hands off and closed her eyes.

"nope. this is my time, kenma. don't ruin it for me" she said

"you're fucking dying!!"

"well, would you like to join me?"

"no"

"damn." she muttered in response

"so...wanna fuck?" she asked sheepishly

"for the love of god-"

this was so messy :/

200 notes · View notes

gold-kobold · 3 years

Text

How To Fight A Shadow

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15: Settling | 16

The gang watches a movie and mildly angsts!

SHOUTOUT TO MY PROOFREADER FOR BEING AWESOME AND STAYING UP TO HELP ME FINISH THIS LOL-

also shoutout to the people on this post and this post and this post for the notenrique subscriber nicknames/dialogue!! lol

kinda similar vibes to @magic-and-moonlit-wings’s fic’s movie-watching chapter at one point too, so shoutout to them as well since their fic is great!!

(again, the formatting is being weird about spaces for some reason, so i’ll use periods to space out the scenes ghfsfdhfjg

“Look, Bagdwella, I don’t particularly care about how rude the New Jersey gnomes have been.”

Blinky had been pacing back and forth in The Forge basically the second he had started this phone call. Aaarrrgghh was peacefully laid down near him, listening to him ramble on with the New Trollmarket residents. They had done a good job on their cleaning efforts today anyways, and a break was well deserved.

“Yes, yes, I understand that they’re vile. But unless they’re spewing shadow portals, that’s not what I’m calling about.” Blinky sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Has everything on your end still been relatively… you know, normal?”

Aaarrrgghh’s ear perked at the sound of approaching footsteps, and he opened one eye to see Jim entering The Forge.

“Jim.” Aaarrrgghh grunted, getting Blinky’s attention.

Upon hearing Aaarrrgghh point out Jim’s arrival, he cut the call short. “Yes, very good. Let me know if anything abnormal pops up.”

“Is New Trollmarket doing okay?” Jim asked as Blinky hung up the phone.

“Ohh, none worse for the wear.” Blinky replied. “They’ve been handling themselves surprisingly well. Nobody’s destroyed the place yet, at least…”

“And still no magic on their end going out of whack?”

“It doesn’t appear so.” Blinky answered, rubbing his chin. “Aside from some Changelings being able to switch forms, they’ve reported no other anomalies of that sort.”

“Huh… Well, as long as they’re staying alert, I guess…” Jim sighed, but then he followed with a chuckle. “Man, I’m still surprised they haven’t burned the place down yet.”

“You and I both!” Blinky chortled in response. “I hadn’t expected we would be gone this long, but alas, they’ve been managing... I assume you’ve come to collect us for movie night?”

“Yeah, Claire and Toby are getting the stuff set up now!” Jim replied. “We should get going.”

Within the Domzalski household, a certain Changeling was yet again making a video of some sort, filming himself with his phone.

“A’ight, you rats! Today you’re gonna be caaalled...” He squinted at a dramatically oversized list of nicknames for his subscribers, skimming over his favourites. Hobgoblins, Mother-sockers, Real Enriques, Miniriques, too many sock puns to count… “Eh, fuck it, Not-E’s.”

He threw the list aside, adjusted his phone camera, and went on. “Okay, my little Not-E’s! T’day, we’re gonna be goin’ on a wildlife expedition!” He hopped out of Toby’s room, phone in hand, and kept talking as he bounced down the stairs. “The infamous Domzalski home is FILLED with all sortsa creepy-crawlies! Look over there, I can see one now!”

Claire, blissfully unaware of NotEnrique’s sudden approach, had been adding the finishing touches to her famous guacamole-and-chips mountain. She had just been disposing of her compost when she heard the pitter-patter of Changeling feet.

“... and ‘ere we find a wild Claire in ‘er natural habitat.”

A space in which Claire could usually whip up her famous guacamole in relative peace had now been infiltrated by her twerp of a brother. NotEnrique filmed her so closely, he may as well have slapped her in the face with his phone. She rolled her eyes in good humour, but otherwise ignored him.

Snickering, he focused the camera on her guac pile and said, “As you can see, wild Claires dispense MASSIVE boogies throughout their lifet-- Oi blimey!” After dodging a barrage of guac and escaping the counter, NotEnrique turned the lens to himself for a moment. “She’s an aggressive specimen, that one!”

Looking around, he caught sight of Angor Rot in the next room over, leaning against a wall and casually carving another totem, as he often did.

NotEnrique hopped right over to him. “How ‘bout you, Spooks?” He said, full of energy. “Up to any weird voodoo shit today?”

“... No?” Angor Rot replied, mildly confused, but not surprised by NotEnrique’s blunt approach.

NotEnrique turned the camera to himself again. “You never know! Gotta be careful with these ones!”

When Angor gave Claire a confused look, she could only shrug at him, then turned all her attention to NotEnrique.

“Put that away, would you?” Claire called over to him, carrying her mountain of guac towards the living room. “We’re gonna be ready soon!”

“Oi, was that happenin’ tonight?” NotEnrique exclaimed, shocked. “Ugh, fiiiine.” He turned his camera towards himself and said, “Be right back! We’ll continue our journey later.”

Before she changed rooms, Claire glanced back at Angor and asked, “Can you go get Dictatious?”

There was a split moment of hesitation on his end, but Angor Rot made sure to brush it off fast enough that Claire wouldn’t notice. “Of course.”

As he walked out of sight, Claire texted Toby to get over there or else they’d hit Play without him. What she immediately got back in response was a >:U.

Toby quickly followed up with “omw back now!”.

Satisfied with that, Claire put her phone aside and started munching on tortilla chips and guacamole early. NotEnrique hopped up beside her and swiped a massive chunk of dip with one chip.

“Where’s Tubs been, anyway?”

“Oh… You know, camera stuff.” Claire answered. “Went to change the batteries, I think…”

There was a weird look in her eye, one that NotEnrique had noticed more than once now over time, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Somethin’ buggin ya, sis?”

“It’s nothing, really…”

When she got a skeptical squint from NotEnrique in response, she felt she didn’t have much choice but to explain herself a bit.

“I mean, it’s just, like…” Sighing, Claire admitted, “Sometimes I just feel like I’m not… doing enough. Jim’s going through so much right now, and Toby’s been obsessing over those cameras--”

“Slim Jim’s gotta deal with his whole body horror mess, and Tubby’s runnin’ himself into the ground at the rate he’s goin’.” NotEnrique pointed out. “Yer the only one outta these idiots that’s still functional. What, would ya feel better if ya had somethin’ destroying yer brain, too?” Jokingly, he added, “Cuz I can do that for free!”

“You know what I mean.” Claire sighed again, slightly irritated. Though, her expression quickly shifted back to one of doubts. “... I don’t know. It’s just… Morgana, She… She makes me feel so... scared.” She admitted quietly. “I’m barely even helping, and I… What if She...”

Claire trailed off, an empty look behind her eyes. She had been repressing the memories of what Morgana did to her as best she could in order to keep some level of calmness, but… Was it selfish to feel any worse about this mess when they were all feeling useless to some extent?

“... Aw, sis…” A pained look crossed NotEnrique’s face for a second, but it quickly gave way to his usual mischievous smirk, and he punched his hand for emphasis. “Oi, if that witchy turd messes with you again, I got no problems beatin’ her outta you again, you know!”

If anything, his enthusiasm about it at least made her laugh. “Should I be thankful or worried at how that’s your immediate reaction?”

“Why not both?” Her brother smirked.

“You’re a gremlin.”

“Why thank you!”

Luckily for Angor Rot, Dictatious was never hard to find. If he wasn't in the living room, he was in the garage, so that was naturally the only place he’d need to look. Still, he had some hesitance in approaching when the doorway came in sight.

While he and Dictatious had made up some days back, Angor Rot got the feeling that Dictatious was still nervous about being near him.

He approached the garage, the door already being slightly ajar. Angor pushed it open further, but didn’t step inside. Dictatious appeared to have not noticed his presence, as he didn’t stop his routinely laundry-folding, nor made even a glance towards the doorway.

“... Dictatious?”

Angor Rot tried to ignore how hearing his voice still made Dictatious jump every now and then. The Conundrum was quick to calm himself back down, glancing in Angor’s general direction. “The others will be ready soon.”

“Ahh-- Yes, yes, I’m coming.” Finishing what he was doing, Dictatious stood and made way to the door.

Angor Rot stepped aside, giving the smaller troll much space to comfortably pass him. While it’s true that Dictatious seemed to be getting used to the idea all over again that Angor wouldn’t try to hurt him, Angor Rot didn’t want to risk crossing any lines.

Order of the Phoenix was the title of their Harry Potter film for the night. The children had been making a big deal over this particular movie basically all day, so finally having everyone settled into the living room was a relief.

“What makes this one any more special than the other ones?” Angor Rot asked.

“Ohh, just you wait!” Toby said excitedly. “This one’s got one of THE MOST satisfying scenes you’ll ever see! This is definitely the best one of them all.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that!” Jim disagreed. “Prisoner of Azkaban was pretty fucking iconic, just saying!”

“I think they all have their strong points and their weak ones.” Claire pointed out. “There’s no one true ‘best’ or ‘worst’ movie.”

“Deathly Hallows part one.” Toby challenged.

“... Okay, so there are no BEST movies…”

The boys chuckled at her backtracking, and Blinky rubbed his chin in confusion. “So the worst is yet to come, eh?”

“Meh, let’s not worry about that now!” Toby said quickly, finally pressing Play on their current film. “It’s Order of the Phoenix time, baby!”

The movie kicked off with the action right away, what with a Dementor attack, Harry being expelled, a court hearing… and the way the children erupted into aggressive “boo”s towards one member of the court, the trolls weren’t surprised to see that she made another appearance at Hogwarts. Even still, they did not expect the infamous blood quill scene.

“How on Earth does she even get away with that?!” Blinky questioned aloud as the scars appeared on Harry’s hand. “Is this not one of their most important students? Once he reports her--”

“If he reports her.” Claire pointed out.

“If?! Why wouldn’t he?”

The only response to that was awkward laughter from the children. Blinky sighed irritatedly, already annoyed with the dynamic being set up with Umbridge.

The magic in this show was intriguing, for sure. While the quill was a means of causing pain to a child, it was still conceptually and visually interesting to watch.

Angor Rot glanced at Dictatious, who had stayed relatively quiet throughout the movie so far. Sometimes he wondered if the Conundrum ever got frustrated, not being able to get the added visual context of these shows…

On a lighter note, the fact that every troll continued to be repulsed by the uncomfortably long kissing scenes never failed to make the teenagers snicker.

“Hey Tobes, you should rewind it a bit, I think they really liked that scene with Cho and Harry!” Jim teased.

“NO!” The trolls yelled basically in unison, and the children’s snickers turned into loud snorts of laughter.

That moment of lightheartedness didn’t last long, however, and everyone in the room fell uncomfortably quiet as the scenes of Snape probing Harry’s mind started to play. Jim kept giving Claire worried glances, and although Angor Rot didn’t show it externally, Toby seemed to pick up on his concealed discomfort as well, judging from how he completely shifted his attention to his carving when it started.

“Um... “ Toby spoke up, glancing between the two of them, “We can skip these kind of scenes, if you guys want…”

“It’s fine.” Claire said immediately. “Just a little… off-putting now, I guess, but…”

Toby frowned at her, then at Angor again, who was either ignoring the question altogether, or didn’t realize it was also directed at him. “Well… okay…”

There was cheering at the Weasley fireworks scene, booing at every Umbridge appearance, but then, the children got strangely excited when the scene suddenly switched to Umbridge, Harry, and Hermoine in the dark forest.

When she got dragged away by the centaurs, and Harry threw her line back in her face, the trolls could finally see why.

“Karma, bitch!” Jim shouted, Claire and Toby cheering in agreement.

“She die?” Aaarrrgghh asked, confused.

“Sadly, no.” Toby replied.

“We’re horrible, oh my gosh.” Claire chuckled quietly.

Yet again, the good times didn’t last as the climax approached. There was Sirius’s death, of course, followed by a beautifully crafted battle of magic, but it was when the possession scene started that discomfort started to really set in again. Angor had glanced at Claire, who said nothing, but there was a visible flinch as she watched the events unfolding. Jim took her hand into his, rubbing his thumb along her skin for comfort.

Once they got through that, however, the rest of the movie was smooth sailing, and the ending was (thankfully) satisfactory to all.

“Great movie!” Toby exclaimed yet again when the credits began to roll. “Let’s have some of this energy in our lives!”

“Agreed! We need more of this kind of stuff.” Jim laughed. “It’s too bad about Rowling, though.”

“Yeah, oof.” Toby responded. “Welp, unfortunately even jerks can make good books.”

“Why, of course!” Blinky agreed, despite not having full context. “Just look at Dictatious!”

Toby slapped a hand to his face to muffle the snort that came out, and Dictatious shot his brother a dry glare.

“Very funny, brother.” He snapped back. “Though, that’s no longer true, now is it?”

“Oh, come now, I was only kidding.” Blinky chuckled, waving him off. “It still applies whether you can write or not, I’m sure.”

“How is your work in The Forge coming along?” Angor Rot interjected, very deliberately changing the subject. There was a note of annoyance towards Blinky in his voice, one that he had meant to better conceal, but Blinky seemed to have caught on that a line might be getting crossed with this thread of conversation.

“Oh, ahem… Fine, fine. Still quite a bit of clean-up to go before the training equipment can be turned on, but we’re getting there!” Blinky replied confidently. “Perhaps Aaarrrgghh and I can get more done tonight still…”

“Can I come help?” Claire asked, hopeful.

“Of course, fair Claire!” Blinky accepted the offer immediately. “Many hands make light work, after all!”

“Oooo, I’m comin’ too!” NotEnrique declared, hopping onto Claire’s shoulder. “Would make an interestin’ background for the rest o’ my video!”

“Whatever you say, Mr. One-Track-Mind.” His sister teased him, earning a ruffle of the hair from the Changeling.

“Izzat the best insult you could come up with?! I’m disappointed!”

Jim got up from his seat, stretching. “I’d better get back to my house. I promised Mom and Strickler that I’d cook dinner.”

“Save me some leftovers, Jimbo!” Toby asked, practically drooling at the mention of his food. He stood as well. “I better go upstairs and check if the cameras caught anything while we were movie-watching…”

“Remember sleep.” Aaarrrgghh said, giving Toby a stern look. The redhead just chuckled awkwardly in response, making no promises.

One by one, the others had filtered out of the room until Dictatious and Angor Rot were the only ones left. Dictatious seemed relieved the moment that Blinky left, anyways, although he still looked a touch wary of Angor still being in the room. All the same, he picked up the remote and switched the TV to one of his crime show channels with a practiced hand.

His ears stayed quite low, and his eyes cast occasional glances in Angor’s direction, though sometimes it was hard to tell how intentional that movement was.

Angor stared at him quietly for some time, but eventually, he spoke.

“Does my presence still bother you?”

Dictatious’s ears flicked upwards for a moment in response to the question, casting Angor a surprised look.

“Oh-- No, no, it’s, um…” His eyes darted away, and he quietly cleared his throat. “Just haven’t yet... gotten used to it again, is all.”

“... Is there any way I can... ease your concerns at all?”

The Conundrum could detect a note of uncertainty in Angor Rot’s voice, as if doubting Dictatious’s reassurances. It’s not like Dictatious could really blame him. He had been quite bad at keeping his own stupid anxiety in check, even still.

“It’s okay, Angor.” Dictatious assured him again, this time with less hesitance. “You’ve already done enough.”

Still not fully convinced, but also not in a position to pry further, Angor let it go for now, going back to his carving. The two of them stayed silent as the crime show continued to play.

Angor Rot wasn’t sure what the overarching “plot” of the story was supposed to be… He could tell there was a team of scientists, and a… warrior of sorts that protected them? Was ‘Cop’ the term that humans used for these ones? He’d only caught small pieces or one-off episodes here and there in Dictatious’s company. “Bones”, he had referred to the show before.

A lot of the language they used went over Angor’s head, but he could follow the general series of events, usually.

One recurring process he noticed being used in not just this show, but across the board of the crime genre altogether, was “DNA” jargon.

He glanced at yet Dictatious yet again, silently debating something...

“... So, this… ‘Dee-en-ay’ testing… How does it work?”

Dictatious’s ears perked up immediately upon hearing Angor’s inquiry. “Oh, that’s easy!” He proclaimed. “You see, humans have created technology that can analyze particle traces of the human body - hair, skin, saliva, you name it - and they use it to...”

Angor Rot watched calmly as Dictatious rambled on and on. One of the few situations in which Dictatious seemed most comfortable was when he was sharing knowledge, Angor had noticed, and he was glad his gamble seemed to work this time. It was almost as if nothing had even happened between them, how quickly and naturally the small troll took to his conversation-starter.

Even if it was still sometimes hard to grasp the massive technological advancements he described, Angor Rot took a strange comfort in hearing Dictatious talk like this around him again. It was, in some sense, relaxing to him.

#trollhunters #angor rot #dictatious #aaarrrgghh #blinky #toby #jim #claire #trollhunters fanfiction #text post #goldie post

40 notes · View notes

tuffduff · 3 years

Text

Unprofessional (Axl Rose x Reader)

Pairing: fluffy modern!Axl Rose x younger!Female reader

Words: 2,139

Summary: You’re Axl’s younger personal assistant and doing his Christmas shopping for him. He appreciates all your hard work and gives you a little extra to buy something nice for yourself...for a good reason.

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @rumoured-whispers

Explaining your job title over the years was perhaps the most difficult part of your job, not the work itself. Actually, the work was pretty fun. Spontaneous, never the same duties, and highly rewarding. But it wasn’t for everyone.

“Good morning,” you called out as you entered the large Malibu mansion that you knew every inch of.

“Y/N, sugar, that you? Hey, c’mere; you’re just in time.” You heard Axl’s voice calling you from one of the living rooms, the one with the view and Axl’s favorite grand piano.

He paused playing and smiled at you a little before he stood and silently handed you his credit card. You smiled knowingly and extended your other hand, to which he laughed.

“You already know.”

“Know that you hate Christmas shopping? Yes.”

“And that I very well can’t exactly walk around the mall casually.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” You smiled. Axl smiled back at you and you felt the familiar rush of warmth fill your heart.

“You’re damn good at it.”

Technically, you were what some would call a personal assistant. But, as the world knows, that extends itself to doing more than just boring paperwork and phone calls when you work for a celebrity. Or the most famous rock star in the world.

You had been working for Axl for years. At first, he was very combustible. Terrible mood swings and hard to please—he couldn’t keep an assistant. You never lost your patience though, and he realized he had someone that could trust in you. He told you as much. Now, he treated you like gold. You didn’t call him sir anymore, and he mainly called you sugar. Paid you more than necessary, sent flowers, sent flowers to your family, even bought you a house. In return you did everything for him; you were always by his side, day and night. Sometimes your family and friends didn’t know how you did it; Axl was your life.

Maybe you didn’t mind because you were in love with him.

Despite the age gap, you couldn’t deny the adoration he made you feel. The way he listened to you, how he remembered tiny details, how he never let anyone talk down on you. How he only really opened up to you. Your job wasn’t to fall in love with him, but how could you not? And it made work never really feel like work.

“Do you like the tree this year?” You asked him as you carefully secured his card in your wallet along with his shopping list. For some reason, he looked down.

“I love it, they did a beautiful job. But...” you frowned; Axl rarely ever complained of anything you took care of. He stepped closer to you, only inches from your face as he looked you in the eye. “I kinda miss it. Decorating it myself. You know?”

“Yeah. I can understand that.” You replied softly, before you cleared your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that was something you would want to do.” Axl nodded a little.

“Do you have a tree at yours?” You swallowed a little.

“No. To be honest, I’m not there enough.” You both knew you stayed more at Axl’s than yours.

“Did you pick the red and gold decorations?” He asked you, turning and glancing at the sweeping tree behind the two of you.

“Yeah. Thought it matched the interior...and you.” You couldn’t help but smile and reach out to sweep his red hair off his shoulder, to which he turned back to you with a smile of his own.

“If it were really up to you though, is that what you would have picked?” You paused at his question, frowning a little.

“...I think the best decorations are the ones that are so old you have to be careful with them, or else they’ll break. Passed down for generations, all vintage and mismatched, you know?” Axl smiled at you and was silent for a long time.

“Me too.” He said before he sat down again. “Well, good luck.” You grinned at him.

“I won’t need it; you won’t even have time to miss me.” You joked, turning on your heel to leave.

“I doubt that.” You nearly stopped at Axl’s words, before he called your name. “Oh, Y/N, I almost forgot.” He pulled out a separate envelope and extended it to you. Your name was on it and he only smiled at you. “See you soon.”

Outside in the privacy of your car, you opened the envelope. There was a note with Axl’s handwriting.

Get yourself something pretty to wear out. It still won’t be as pretty as you.

You blinked at the note several times and focused in on the bottom.

Yours, Axl xxx

Even knowing how much money Axl had and how much he spent, seeing the cash behind the note still made the envelope burn in your fingertips.

Five minutes later, you were still sitting there in your car, uncertain. Axl had given you Christmas presents, of course, but nothing like this. A house, a car, many other material things, but not a note you couldn’t help but create fantasies about.

What did it even mean? Was this just another gift? Or did it mean more, did it mean...

You did your best to stop the thoughts before they started. After all, you accompanied Axl to many events and it never really meant anything. He was just being kind and generous, as always. Besides, he probably didn’t even see you in that light.

You took care of Axl’s list easy, gifts for his inner circle, workers, the few suits he cared about. The hard part now was the array of dresses you had at your disposal before you. Beautiful cocktail dresses, sparkling gowns, silky slips.

Normally, when shopping for dresses for events with Axl, you always made sure to look professional first and foremost. Nothing too low-cut and showy, nothing with thigh slits, nothing too extravagant. But now?

Yes, now. What were you going to do with now?

Coincidentally, your phone buzzed and you saw it was a text from Axl himself.

How’s it goin?

Your list is taken care of! Just trying to pick a dress now :)

You wanted to unsend your text as soon as it was gone. Had he even meant for you to buy a dress? Your heart pounded when you felt another vibration in your hand.

I’d ask for pics, but I like surprises

You nearly dropped your phone. You felt your cheeks blushing. You were helpless to stop yourself from imagining taking suggestive, racy pics for him in these dresses, sending all of them to him.

And you almost did. But your job was important and if you were misreading signs, you didn’t want to lose it all.

Finally, you settled on a gorgeous red velvet mini dress. It had long sleeves to make up for short length, a deep v-cut neckline that somehow still looked sophisticated, and a subtle sash tie around your waist that complimented your figure.

Despite how much you loved it, you couldn’t help but wonder if Axl would like it the whole way back to him.

When you arrived, the sun was setting behind the mansion, now lit in beautiful twinkling Christmas lights. You hurried inside with the various bags of gifts, as well as the dress in a garment bag slung over your shoulder.

“Y/N?” Axl called as you walked into the house. You smiled, but felt yourself turn uncharacteristically shy at the very sight of him.

“I’m back,” you said lamely, frowning a little at yourself. Axl smiled at you and you couldn’t hold his gaze.

“You were wrong, you know.”

“Sorry, what?” You choked out, feeling your heart stop.

“I did miss you.” Your heart pounded.

“Uh,” you laughed nervously, sending him another wobbly smile. “Do you want to see what I bought?” You said, turning your attention to the bags you were setting down.

“I do. Why don’t you go and put it on?” You stopped, swallowing at the sudden dryness in your throat.

“Oh, uh...I mean...” you blinked a few times. “Oh—that reminds me.” You said, quickly opening your purse and pulling out the envelope to extend back to him. “I didn’t spend all the money.”

Axl clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to go and buy another.”

“What?” He chuckled at your face. The room felt hot as he stepped closer to you, and the sound his shoes made against the granite floors suddenly made you focus on his attire. “O-oh, are you going out? I’m not making you late, am I?” Axl raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yes. We are.” You frowned at him and he sighed lightly, flicking the envelope you still had slightly extended out towards him. “Was my note not clear enough?”

Suddenly, you didn’t feel so crazy anymore, but that didn’t mean your heart wasn’t racing.

“I think...for my sake...and the safety of my job,” you smiled a little and Axl chuckled. “I think you need to be very clear with me.” He reached forward and took your free hand in his.

“Y/N, all these years there’s only been one person by my side. Through the ups and downs, not just for the spotlight. You’ve taken good care of me and never left me ever worrying about anything. And I don’t just mean the dry cleaning and appearances. When I realized you...actually just wanted to be around me because you liked the person I am, and not just the money...” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. “And I don’t want you not by my side. I don’t want anyone else. And I never wanted to make you think I was going to use you, but honey, did you really not notice?”

“What, the gifts? The fact that I live in Malibu now? I just thought it was your nature.”

“Yes, I take care of the ones I love. That’s why I make sure you never have to want or need anything. But haven’t you noticed I never have women over? I’m never off to dates, women aren’t hanging off my shoulders anymore, people call me a lonely hermit?” You laughed a little. “It’s because there’s you. There’s a reason you’ve got your own room here; I don’t like it when you go home.”

Axl raised his hand and brushed your hair away from your face, leaving his hand against your cheek.

“I don’t either.” You murmured. “Axl…I’ve cared about you for years. But I couldn’t exactly tell you that. It would be unprofessional, but…”

“You thought about it.” He guessed. “About us.”

“Of course I did. I love doing things for you, but…I mean, of course I would love more.”

“I thought maybe the note would make everything clear.” Axl said, before he took the garment bag from your shoulder and unzipped it halfway. Red velvet met his gaze and he raised his eyes to you, a new suggestive look in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow at you. “...it looks like you got the hint, darlin’.”

“I didn’t want to assume.” You murmured, trying to fight a smile. “Girl like me can’t get her hopes up; it’s Christmas.” He grinned at you.

“That’s when miracles happen. Speaking of Christmas...” Axl said, turning and grabbing a small wrapped box from the top of the piano. “I did a little shopping of my own while you were out.” You put your hands on your hips.

“I thought that’s what I was for, and I thought we opened presents Christmas Day?”

“This one has more sentimental value.” He pressed it into your hands with a small smile. You shook your head at him as you pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid, surprised to see a small glass ornament. It was two penguins hugging wearing Santa hats, with Axl and Y/N engraved.

“Ax…” you murmured, feeling overwhelmed. Axl reached out and pulled you against him, hugging you tight and kissing the side of your head. “I…I love it.”

“Think it’s too late to start some traditions?” He asked you in your ear before gesturing to the tree before following behind you as you picked a prominent branch to put the ornament on display. “Next year, we’ll go and pick out our own tree and put up our own ornaments. But for now, why don’t you finally go and put on that dress so I can see you in it and we can get somethin’ to eat. We’re gonna need energy to wrap all of these.” He said, looking at the bags surrounding you. You smiled excitedly at him.

“You’re gonna love it.”

“Oh, I know I will. I just hope I don’t have to wait until Christmas Day to open it.”

#axl rose imagine #axl rose x reader #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses x reader #gnr #gnr imagine #classic rock imagine #modern!axl

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Note

Billy has to stick up for max a lot because of her autism, at school he walks to her class and their afraid of him because just,,, look at him

warnings for mentions of bullying and ableism.

It isn’t easy to make Maxine Mayfield cry.

At least, Billy had almost never seen her shed a tear in the six years he’d known her but maybe two times: once when she was still little, and just learned her step-family was going to move into her house and replace her real dad forever, and once when she was told they would be leaving California. Both times she’d run off to her room and slammed the door before anyone could see, but Billy had noticed. He always did when it came to Max. Had to when he knew damn well how much trouble he’d be in if things went wrong while he was watching her.

Beyond that there were a few teary eyed looks that got wiped away, maybe a sniffle she’d try to cover up by complaining about her allergies, but it was very rare, even during meltdowns, that she’d be full on crying, tears streaming down her face so quickly she couldn’t wipe them away while sobs wrack through her and make her shake.

So Billy knows first thing that something is very, very wrong when she’s already at his car after school, her face buried in her balled up jacket and doing exactly that. He can hear her from outside the car, so he sighs and knocks on the window before he yanks the door open, but Max doesn’t even flinch, just curls up tighter in the passenger seat and ignores him.

That’s a bad sign too, the fact she isn’t even trying to hide it from him, “What’s a’matter Maxi?”

“None of your business.” She snaps at him, voice thick and wet with tears. It’s unfamiliar seeing her like that and it makes Billy feel tense ang guilt even though he didn’t do it this time, so he tries, “Come on. It totally is my business. You get tears on my leather seats n’the salt’ll stain ‘em up, and you’ll be the one to clean it up.”

All it gets from Max is another heavy sob, instantly hitting him with a pang of regret for trying to be light about this, “Shit. M’sorry, Maxi. Didn’t mean it like that. Just tryin’ ta make you smile.”

“Well it didn’t work!” Max sniffles, throwing her jacket on the dash and finally turning to look at Billy, face flushed red and tracked with tears, her bottom lip still wobbling, “I’ll never ever smile again..”

“Why not? I know it’s not just because of your dumbass brother.” Billy sees a twitch at the corner of her lip, the slightest hint of a smile at him insulting himself, and he counts that as a small win, a sign he’s getting at least a little bit through to Max, so he prompts her again, “What happened at school today, Max?”

Her gaze drops to her lap, and she shrugs her shoulders slightly, stiffly, as she mumbles an explanation, “Remember how I told you about that boy, who's mean to me and my friends?”

“‘Course I do. I never forget anythin’ you tell me.”

Max wipes her nose on her sleeve, and corrects him, “Except for when you forgot I told you I had AV club and you came in the school looking for me and then you got stuck talking to a teacher for like, three hours after I was done.”

“Yeah, well that was one time. N’I was already havin’ a bad day when you told me, thank you very much.” He encourages her, his face serious though their tone is light-hearted, “Keep goin’, what’d this kid do now?”

Again Max’s features close off, and she tries to lie, “He was just.. Well it was my fault.. I-I don’t know.”

“Max. I need the truth.”

Talking fast, like she’s fighting against her thoughts, she makes him promise, “Promise me you won’t do anything dumb, first.”

Billy lifts a hand from the steering wheel, “I won’t. Cross my heart, Maxi.”

At this point, in the silence that builds while Max wills herself to speak, Billy starts to drive, since it’s clear he won’t be going back into that school. It isn’t lost on him the way Max takes a deep breath, out of relief that he meant it when he said he wasn’t going to be dumb and march back in there.

Quickly, once she’s ready, she explains, “Okay. Well he kinda sort of told me that I was annoying ‘cause I laugh too much, and I told him it was just a stim n’that I couldn’t help it but he said that made me a baby and I told him I wasn’t and he called me a retard instead and I was already stressed so I started crying like a dumb baby and he laughed at me and none of my friends said anything or helped me and I just.. yeah.”

All Billy can do is raise his eyebrows, has about a hundred and one pissy and angry things he could say, but he doesn’t utter a word, because he doesn’t want to make Max more upset than she already is.

Clearly just the change in his expression spooks her though, because she insists, sounding like she could cry again at any second, “You promised me!”

He puts his hands up sort of defensively, though he has to grab the wheel again when the car veers, swallowing his anger to tell her calmly, “I didn’t even say anything. I promised I’d be nice and I’m gonna keep that promise.”

She nods hesitantly, more to show trust than agreement, so Billy continues, “But Maxi that’s.. bad. Why don’t you tell a teacher or some shit?”

“Yeah, like they would even do anything. They already hate me for being in their coed classes.” Max mumbles the last part, looking away, “They’d probably rather Troy beat me up so I wouldn’t be bothering them anymore.”

“Tell me you’re being dramatic.”

But Max just shrugs again.

“Fuck, I hate this fucking place.” Billy tears his eyes from the road to look Max in the eyes as she says it, even knowing she can’t return the gesture, “You know you don’t deserve to go through this shit, Maxi?”

“It.. is kinda my fault though.”

He lashes out, just a little, hearing her talk like that about herself. Because it’s not fair that a thirteen year old girl looks at herself that way, yeah, but also because he knows it’s in some ways his fault too, and their parents for the way she’d been brought up, and the shit she'd been around that she even thinks to say shit like that.

He hits the palm of his hand against the rim of his steering wheel, rather he goes to before he catches himself, slowing it before it really hits, tapping it more than anything, “No the fuck it isn’t. It’s nobody’s fault but the assholes that make it into a problem. And fucking Neil’s for dragging us to this close-minded little spot on the map. I hate this fucking town”

“Oh.” Is all Max says.

Billy waits, but he can see she doesn’t know what else to say, so he sighs, “Look, I made my promise to you. Can you make one for me now?”

Max looks confused, “Okay?”

“Promise me that the next time somebody says some shit to you, you stand up for yourself.” Max scrunches up her face, like she immediately disagrees with that, but Billy insists, “Look, I don’t care if you’re crying like a damn baby or you can’t even talk while you do it, just don’t let ‘em walk all over you like that again.”

“I’m not fighting anyone, Billy. I’m not.. like you.”

“That’s not what I said. I said to stand up for yourself. It’s different.”

“Yeah right. How am I supposed to do that?” Billy knows that some asshole had to have said that to Max, that for whatever bullshit reason she couldn’t stick up for herself. Damn kid can’t catch a break in life, so he tells her, at this point not sure if this is even advice or just him ranting at Max, “This kid calls you a slur again, tell ‘im at least you got the diagnosis. Make him feel like he’s the stupid one. And if a teacher ever pulls some shit about the way you learn, tell ‘em you’ll go to the board of education and personally get their asses fired. Your mom would fight for you.”

“No she wouldn’t.”

“Then dammit I would. Your friends would if they understood. I know Sinclair would kick ass for you.”

Max’s toughness finally cracks- she learned that from him, to put on that hard exterior and fake it- Billy's determination stronger than her stubbornness. She looks up at him with a look in her eye that says he’s said all the right things, “You really think so?”

“No shit. Big brothers know all about this kind of bull.”

“I guess.” Max smiles just a little, and tells him matter-of-factly, “But you’re not that kind of big brother. You’re too cool.”

“Hell yeah I am.” Billy hums proudly, adding with humor in his tone, “But it’s even more cool to be nice to your little sister than it is to be an asshole. Remember that one.”

Max nods, listing it off on her fingers, “Stand up for myself, but don’t be an asshole, and Billy's secretly a big softie. I think I got it.”

“Good. Now out of my car, shitbird.”

Giggling in that way that says she knows she got him, Max swings open her door and runs into the house, leaving Billy to watch after her. He turns off the car but doesn’t get out, trying to bury his worry for her under his expression, not because he didn’t care, or even because he didn’t want her to know, he was long past that, but because he was worried what would happen if Susan saw his concern.

She’d weasel the truth out of Max if she knew something was up, and somehow, despite her promises, Neil would find out once he dragged his ass back home from the bar later tonight, and then it would somehow be Billy’s fault. He just hopes, if Max lets slip about the bullying, she at least doesn’t get too mouthy and mention the part where she was crying.

That was a Friday when that all went down, so Billy has the weekend, which thankfully does not include any snitching, to decide what he’s going to do about it. It’s not like he was ever going to go beat up on any tweens anyways, but he promised Max he wouldn’t be dumb, and he knew that meant no passive aggressive bullshit either. At least not while she could see him.

Because that ruled out like, half of his options, he’s still kind of clueless on what he’s going to do that next Monday morning when schools back in. He’s sitting in the middle school parking lot, fingers twitching against the steering wheel without a cigarette to busy them with, waiting for 7:30 on the dot when Max always goes in.

At this point, he’s considering just ditching with her to go get ice cream or something so she doesn’t have to face any bullies today, but his epiphany comes in the form of watching Jonathan Byers walk the littler one all the way to the front doors, his hand protectively hooked through the handle on the kid’s backpack. When the clock ticks the right time and Max opens her door, he knows what he’s going to do, and he turns the car off.

She freezes, can tell he’s up to something. “What are you doing?”

“Nothin’. M’just walking you in.” She glares at him in response to the smug smile he wears, so he swears, “Honest. I got basketball today. No way I’m missing that shit ‘cause I fought some little kid.”

“You’re lying.”

“Can’t I just be nice to my little sister?”

From the look on her face, she’s still skeptical, but it's enough to get Max to agree to it, grabbing her bag from the backseat and mumbling, “Whatever. Just don’t embarrass me.”

Billy chuckles, giving Max a head start towards the building before he follows, “Hey now, I thought just yesterday I was your cool older brother.”

“Cool older brothers don’t walk their sisters to the door.” She calls it over her shoulder, and Billy can’t help but tease her more, correcting her in a sing-songy voice, “Who said I was stoppin’ at the door? I’m walking you all the way to your class.”

“Oh god.” Max stops walking, but Billy keeps up, this time pulling ahead enough to call back to her, “Come on shitbird. Don’t wanna be late.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Yeah, right. You love that I would take the time outta my morning to do this for you.” He props open the door for Max with his boot, pretending not to notice the way all the little middle school kids at their lockers turn to gawk at them, letting her shove past him with her face flushed deeper than the color of her hair in embarrassment.

Pulling on her backpack straps, like she’s trying to physically make herself smaller, she mumbles, “No, I actually hate you.”

He almost feels bad for embarrassing her, but that’s the other part of his job, and he reminds her of that, “Good. There’s some more advice for ya, little sisters should always hate their big brothers, or he’s doing something wrong.”

They get a little ways down the hall, Max’s confidence going up just some as the shock wears off and people start to turn away, but Billy hardly notices. He doesn’t even come close to being bothered by eighth grade politics anymore, and if he’s intimidating the poor kids, well that’s exactly what he’s there for.

When he’s met with a particularly harsh glare from some snob nosed brat, who happens to remind him a lot of one Tommy Hagan, he bumps into Max on purpose, and announces louder than he needs to in hopes the kid’ll know he was looking for him, “That the little asshole s’been givin’ you trouble?”

Glancing nervously between him and Billy, she nods, “Yeah..”

Billy just nods, a cross between acknowledgment and judgement, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You said-“ Again Max panics, but Billy cuts her off this time with a simple assurance of, “And I didn’t do anything.”

Her eyebrows knit together, realizing that that wasn’t a lie, “I.. guess you didn’t.”

“What’s your first class anyways?”

“We report to the cafeteria before first period.” She informs him, leading him that way, but he hooks two fingers through the strap on her bag to stop her, “Not gonna happen, Maxi. Being shoved in a tiny room with three hundred other kids makes you feel all ‘meltdowny’ I think was your exact word. So you’re not doin’ that anymore. I just decided.”

“But that’s against the rules.”

“Yeah, so’s me bein’ in this building during school hours, but nobody’s saying shit to me, are they?”

Max narrows her eyes at him then, and he knows he said too much, that he’s been found out, “That’s your plan isn’t it.”

There’s a crooked smile on his face he can’t hide as he plays innocent-like, “What is?”

Max pushes him a little and he pretends to misstep while she accuses him, “Coming into school and being all intimidating so nobody will bug me anymore.”

“Pfft, yeah right.” Billy denies again, getting nothing but an eye roll in response at first, but when it’s clear it’s he’s not going to give up and admit it, Max does, glancing shortly over at him, “Well thanks anyways, Billy.”

She adds, realizing he’s wandering with no idea where they’re going, having never been in the middle school himself, “My first class is in B-18.”

“Which one is’at?” He asks, just curious, but Max deflects the question, giving a short, “It’s taught by Mr. Clarke.”

Just from how quiet she is, Billy can tell that she's hiding something, “Max. You seriously don’t even know what class you’re in?”

“No I don’t, okay?” Max stops in the middle of the hallway, ranting at her brother, “It’s already not the same as my old school, and then they moved my schedule all around again after they decided I didn’t qualify for special ed, so now I just go where I’m s’posed to, and I know my teachers better than my classes.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“No. There’s nothing anyone can do so it doesn’t matter.” Her tone implies she thought a lot about it, maybe even wanted to, but decided not to.

Billy insists right back, these past two days feeling like he’s constantly petitioning for Max to trust and rely on him, “Oh I could do somethin’. You know I could.”

“I do. But I don’t want you to. Sticking up for me is enough.”

That’s what makes Billy understand. The firmness in her voice says everything she needs him to hear: Max doesn’t want Billy to do for her what she can handle. This is bigger than just being the older brother. This is her setting boundaries, asking for help without wanting to be controlled. That’s something he never really got how to do, being raised by a dictator and all, but it’s something she needs. Sometimes he forgets that.

He doesn’t say anything else, just lets it sit while Max takes him down some stairs to the right room. She stops outside, scuffing up the dusty marble floors with the toe of her Chuck Taylor’s, “Could you.. stick around for a little bit in case he says something?”

Billy clicks his tongue, remarking, “I dunno. I got a class in a few..”

But his sarcasm falls short with Max, which, that’s his bad for not realizing that it would, and her face falls, “Oh, well I guess I can just-”

“Was just funnin’ you shitbird. I don’t give a fuck about my classes.” Max grimaces in that all too familiar way of uncertainty, so he promises, “I’ll be right out here. Go talk to your teacher, ‘n if he says some shit to you, remember I only promised not be stupid about the bully.”

He at least gets a smile for that one, before Max rolls her eyes, “You’re not fighting my science teacher, dummy.”

“Whatever. Just get in there, brat.”

He can see Max holding back a smile as she listens, bounding into her classroom with another quick glance back at Billy to check that he wasn’t lying and going to walk away.

Billy waits until the door fall closed to lean against the row of lockers opposite it, watching her through the little meshed over windows. By now, he’s pretty well versed on what arguments with angry authority figures look like, and the conversation between Max and her teacher is not one. He still stays though, just because Max asked him to, but maybe, just maybe a little for himself, a reassurance that the second he leaves shit isn’t going to get worse, and Max’ll have at least someone other than her equally as nerdy little friends behind her.

Then they both turn and give him a little wave, Max and her teacher, an acknowledgment to Billy that this new routine was indeed going to work out. The way the school district had handled everything else, he wonders if the guy even knew Max wasn’t like his other students until now.

Still, seeing that, Billy gives a half nod in response, and decides his job is done here, at least until tomorrow when he does the same. Max’ll get used to it, and his hope is that the little bully brats won’t. He’ll just have to keep them on their toes.

Which is exactly why, while on his way out, Billy has to break his promise to Max, just slightly, and do something dumb. He finds the Troy kid again, and waits until the little punk is at his peak to knock him down a few pegs.

He’s complaining about some teacher, which is pretty typical for a thirteen-fourteen year old kid, but the other things he’s said to Max make it not as relatable, not as innocent. So he does what any logical, mature adult would do, and scares the piss out of him.

Billy waits until the kid gets a laugh from his troop of assholes, and slams the locker door beside him shut, uncaring of who’s it was. All eyes are quickly on him, all too wide against too pale faces. It’s too easy.

“What are you little shits whining about over here?”

The one in charge steps forward, trying to be tough despite the way he has to practically bend backwards to look up at Billy’s face, “None of your business. Did the freak send you after us to scare us? It ain’t gonna work.”

“Oh I’m not here to scare you. I’m just here to give you your final warning. We’re past the point of intimidation. Matter of fact, next time I have to come here.. it won’t be looking so good for you.”

“You’re lying.” The kid accuses, despite the obvious doubt written behind his features.

Billy can work with that.

“I might be. But I’m still an authority figure over your sorry little asses, and if you don’t start respecting that..” He bends down a little further, still nowhere near the kid but making his whole troupe flinche back, and drops his pitch, “well, I can’t promise what’ll happen to ya, but unlike your teachers, I don’t play by the rules. You got that?”

Straightening himself back out, Billy pretends to start walking away before he adds, “Oh, and if you pick on my kid sister ever again, I will know. Just remember that, uh, Troy was it?”

The kid nods dumbly, literally vibrating with something like fear, and Billy can say he’s pretty satisfied with that. He pats the kid on the shoulder, a touch so gentle it wouldn’t’ve hurt a fly, and notably couldn’t get him in any trouble, but the little shit scampers off, three other puffy head bullies trailing after him.

Everyone sees it happen, Billy with his nasty smirk and his distinguishably high-schooler way of carrying himself, Troy running for the hills in the other direction. He leaves feeling like his point has been thoroughly proven.

It isn’t easy to make Maxine Mayfield cry, but it’s even harder to get away with it, and Billy knows it won’t be a problem from now on.

#billy & max #billy hargrove #max mayfield #autistic max #tw r slur #tw ableism mention #tw bullying mention #ej writer #story by ej!#anon my beloved #you so read my mind with this #I had half a fic written out like this for ages and then this ask popped up (a while ago. I’m sorry I’ve been so slow at requests)#so have this little projection fest my beloved anon #i mighta went a little crazy with this #<3 <3 <3 #thank you for sending me this! I love requests!

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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

Text

Interlude - Rewrite POYW - Harry Hook x reader - Part 3 - invitations

The Smee twins stared wide-eyed at the crisp white letter that was clearly and openly inviting them, both of them, to Auradon prep, signed by King Ben and Ms. Evie of the isle. They heard that Harriet, CJ, and their older brother Sammy had gotten the same letter around the same time that they had gotten theirs.

His Royal Majesty, King Ben of Auradon, and his Councilor Ms. Evie of the Isle, hereby request the pleasure of your company, Skipper and Sterling Smee, for the upcoming academic year at Auradon city middle school. Please notify his Majesty’s couriers of your response to this request.

-we’d love to have you two with us here in Auradon, don’t worry, your brother has been given the same invitation, will you come? - King Ben

-Don’t let this go to waste boys, I’ll see you soon - Harry H.

Skipper and Sterling looked at each other, then back to the letter, the older twin, skipper, picking up the letter and holding it gently in his hands, reading it over and over for any small hints that might reveal the letter to be a whole joke and they would never be coming off the isle.

Skipper slowly looked at his brother with a grin “it's for real” he whispered, shaking the letter in Sterling's face “they really want us to come to Auradon!” Sterling took the letter and examined it for himself, a bright grin matching his brothers growing on his face.

The twins threw their arms around each other, jumping and spinning around the room. the door to their room opened, the twins pausing in their celebration as their older brother, Sammy, and dad, Mr. Smee, looked in on them with just barely repressed smiles. “Dad look!” Skipper took back the letter from Sterling and shoved it into his dad's face, the old man smiling and picking up his son as he examined the letter “they invited us to go to Auradon! And Harry signed it too!!”

“they invited your brother as well” Mr. Smee hummed, setting Skipper back down on his feet and examining the letter again, smiling at the note from Harry. “Harriet and CJ too”

Sammy flipped his invitation between his fingers “yeah, Harriet said something about how they finally assigned guardians for us so they were finally able to send the invitations, all that’s left is for us to tell the dudes who gave ‘em to us that we accept” Mr. Smee, handing the twins letter back to Skipper, the two going over it once more.

“when can we tell them?” Mr. Smee asked, walking back out of the twin's room to the living room of his apartment that he had acquired after (y/n) had dismembered his ex-captain.

“well, Harriet got a letter from (y/n) saying that the next shipment of goods tomorrow, will have some of the couriers that are expecting our response so we can tell them then.” Mr. Smee nodded, moving into the kitchen to start making dinner for his sons.

“so after we tell them you three are all for Auradon, when will you be picked up?” Sammy pursed his lips, trying to remember what Harriet had relayed to him from the letter that (y/n) sent her informing her of the timeline of events for the vks transfer.

“uh, after we tell the courier dudes tomorrow? the limo should be here sometime next week…no clue what time yet but im sure well be told at some point before the day” Mr. Smee nodded, setting a pot of water onto his stove and turning it on, waiting for it to boil so he could add the pasta.

“I noticed on the twin's letter, it said “Auradon middle school” while yours said “Auradon Prep”, so the twins will be going to a different school?” Sammy nodded at his father's question, helping him get the ingredients ready for the chicken alfredo spaghetti he was about to make.

“Yeah, they are only 10 after all, and Auradon prep is a high school so I’m guessing when they turn 14, they’ll go then.” Mr. Smee nodded again and started to chop up some parsley.

Sammy grabbed the chicken from the fridge and placed a pan on the stove, starting the flame and grabbing some seasonings for the chicken.

The two worked in comfortable silence, the sound of the twins playing in the background providing the much needed “white noise”

Sammy sighed, slicing up the chicken and tossing it into the pan, watching it cook as he thought of the fast-approaching future.

Only a week from now, he and the twins would be across the sea in Auradon, away from their father for the first time. Now Smee wasn’t the best father, hardly anyone on the isle was, well maybe except for Dr.Facilier which was mostly a surprise to…well everyone, the once voodoo doctor turned principal and arcade owner held his daughter in high regard and strived to give her the best life he could on the isle.

But back to his father, while he wasn’t the best, he definitely was far from bad, and tried to the best for his kids when he could. And right now, the best for his kids was sending them to Auradon.

Sammy knew the twins would miss their father, yes, they would have the hook siblings and their older brother but nothing could take the place of their dad. Sammy hummed as he wondered if he could request visitations for the twins to see their dad.

CJ balance-walked the curb as she kept pace with Harriet, both heading back to the older sister's ship for the night as darkness began to set over the isle.

“so when are we goin ta Auradon?” CJ asked Harriet, grinning as she gave an annoyed sigh, it being the seventh time CJ had asked that question within the last five minutes.

Then again, Harriet hadn't bothered to answer her so CJ thought it was perfectly reasonable to continue to bug her with it. “at some point within the next week” Harriet muttered; she had wanted to keep her answer as loose as possible as to not get CJs hopes up. Harriet was a cynical person, unlike CJ who was oddly optimistic, and she didn’t want her little sister to be disappointed in case the limo never came.

But thanks to CJ’s constant babbling of the same question, Harriet just decided to blurt it out if only to make her shut up. “sweet~ is Harry gonna be in the limo thing?” Harriet sighed, question after question, and if Harriet didn’t answer CJ would babble it over and over again until Harriet snapped.

“I don’t know, I just know they are aiming for next week to pick us all up, (y/n) said I’ll get another letter about two days before we get picked up so we have time to pack ‘n stuff” CJ hummed at that and lept off the curb, skipping up next to her sister and clasping her hands behind her back.

“so what was (y/n) like? I didn’t get to meet her when she came to demolish dad” Harriet stopped for a moment, of all the questions for CJ to ask that was one she wasn’t expecting.

“well,” Harriet starting, moving forward again as her ship came into sight “she was really…expressive, very protective of Harry, um-damn good with a sword….I don’t know I wasn’t around her for a long enough time to gage her properly but what I've gotten about her from her letters, she’s a thorough person and makes sure everyone is taken care of before going through with a plan” CJ hummed again, Harriet’s “description” of (y/n) was different than the image she had made in her head due to Harrys “description” but either way (y/n) sounded kinda cool and she would have hella fun annoying the hell outta her.

The two hook sisters arrived at Harriet's ship and climbed aboard, moving into the lower decks where the kitchen was to eat dinner.

Dizzy hummed happily to herself as she moved about the salon, cleaning up the last of the clipped hair and globs of dye before the salon opened at midnight.

In one week, ONE WEEK, she, Dizzy Tremaine, the daughter of Drizella Tremaine, would be going to Auradon!!! With Evie!! Her idol!!

As the day drew closer to the fateful pickup day, her excitement built up inside her, bursting out in sleepless nights and constant ideas to sketch down in her sketchbook.

She let out a squeal and spun on her heels, sweeping up the last pile of hair and disposing of it. She just couldn’t wait! There were so many things in Auradon that she wanted to try! From ice cream to swimming pools, it was an endless list of joys she had yet to experience!

“Dizzy!!!! Finish up! Time for dinner!” her aunt Anastasia called from the apartment upstairs, Dizzy set her broom and dustpan against the wall and skipped up the stairs, unable to keep the bright grin off her face.

“Coming~!!”

Ben looked at the papers the couriers had given him of the responses of the six invites he had sent out the day before.

All of them said yes.

Ben couldn’t help the wide grin from growing on his lips, and he didn’t resist the urge to dance as excitement swelled inside him.

‘Finally!’ Ben thought as he danced stupidly around his office ‘finally! After more than half a year I can finally bring more VKs over! Nothing can stop it now!’

Mal knocked gently outside his office, it was lunchtime and he had yet to arrive at the pavilion where he and the vks plus (y/n) would be eating (lunch celebration for the invitations being sent out). After a few moments of silence, other than the sounds of Bens dancing footsteps, Mal opened the door, calling out for him.

She burst out laughing as she spotted Ben dancing around his office, a wide grin on his face “They all accepted!” Ben sang, pulling Mal into the room and making her dance with him “they all accepted! Six more vks next week!”

Mal laughed again and let herself be pulled into the moment of joy, gigging as Ben spun her around and lifted her into the air “Six more vks!” she echoed, squealing a bit as Ben dropped her into his chest and spun them both around some more “Ookayyy!! Im gonna throw up lemme down!” Mal smacked at his shoulders until Ben grinned at her and set her on her feet, laughing a bit as Mal tumbled into a chair from dizziness.

“Come on, let's go tell the others!” Ben grabbed onto Mal's hand, dragging a still slightly out of it fae from his office and to the pavilion, where the rest of their friends waited for them.

“There yeh are, an’ here I thought yeh keeled over from paperwork” Ben let out a few sarcastic laughs as he looked to Harry, who just grinned back.

“harde har Harry, but! All six of them accepted the invitation!” Evie and Carlos let out a gasp and Evie stood from the table, bounding over to Ben and slamming into him for a hug “I know! Next week we’ll finally have more vks!”

Gil and Harry burst out laughing as Evie took Ben's arms and spun them around in a dance, “He was doing that in his office” Mal sniggered, sitting down next to Jay and leaning on him, Jay holding up his phone and laughing as he recorded Evie and Ben dancing.

“adorable” you purred, curling against Harry's side as his arm wrapped around your waist. Carlos and Dude ran around for a moment, hyped up from Ben's visible excitement, and slid to a stop in front of the table.

“come on! Let's eat! Then we get ice cream! For celebration!” everyone cheered at Carlos' suggestion and Ben and Evie quickly sat down, Ben tapping his hands on the table to rid of his excess energy.

A few moments later Ben's personal chefs appeared with trays of food, setting them down in the middle of the table and pouring their drinks “thank you, Cherise, Tulio” the two chefs smiled at Ben and nodded, waving the eight teens goodbye and moving back into the castle.

“to the new vks!” Ben called, raising his glass and laughing as the rest of you followed his action.

“to the new vks!”

“and many more~!!” you finished, the vks grinning even wider than that. That was the plan, as soon as Harry's sisters, the Smee kids, and Dizzy were in Auradon, the process to bring another six would be immediately put in action.

The only question to that was ‘who would be chosen?’

-end of part 3-

yeeee P3~!!! the new vks have been invited to Auradon and things are lookin up~!!! and writing excited Ben was so fun, hes a fun character to write and create for, i don't get why the official writers pushed him to the side so much, after all without him the Descendants storyline wouldn't exist (yes this is heavy side eye to the writers of descendants)

anyway Permtaglist!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @rintheemolion

@verboetoperee @imtryingthisout

@thecaptainsgingersnap @jatp-rules-my-life

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook descendants #interlude #rewrite #part of your world #finale #shuffle playlist

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walkerwords · 3 years

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 33 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Beta makes his final move against the survivors as the group prepares for the final showdown against the Whisperers and our story comes to an end.

Word Count: 4971

Warning: Swearing, Violence, Blood

Song I Wrote To: “Sanctuary” by Welshly Arms

Note: THANK YOU. That is all I can really say. I have never written something this long and I am forever grateful for the handful of you that have stuck with it for all these months. Happy TWD 10c premiere and I can’t wait to write even more for you though I may need a break for a bit! I hope you also listen to the song for this chapter, I think it fully encapsulates the relationship between Negan and the reader! ALL OFFICIAL DIALOG IS PROPERTY OF AMC

————-

They say that Death rode on a pale horse as Hell followed behind, but they had never considered that Hell was with them all along and that they were only waiting for someone to swing the sword.

Your sword hung on your hip as the rumbling sound of the Dead crashed over you in waves. From the tower window, it looked as if the ground was alive with insects rather than crumbling bones and rotting flesh.

As soon as Gabriel sounded the alarm, you and Negan went off to help where you still could. Michonne was frantically searching for Judith who had run out after her uncle in hopes of helping. She only began to relax after Daryl had gotten through to her to tell her that they were on their way back to the tower.

They also had Kelly and Carol with them.

Gabriel was running around with blankets, extra weapons, and ever extra bottles of water for those he would be moving out of the tower as the herd got closer. You were starting to feel a bit out of sorts. You had been waiting for this moment since Beta had singled you out in the clearing during the fair and yet, you didn’t know if you were ready to face him for the last time, but you had to be.

At this point, it was either him or you.

The Walkers were a big problem, but then there were the Whisperers that moved within the herd. There was no way to properly single them out without wasting long-distance ammo. These were the days that you missed the armory back in Alexandria.

The only guns in the group were Gabriel’s shotgun and Rick’s colt python in which Judith carried. It wasn’t enough and you knew that. The only hope that any of you had was that Michonne and Gabriel’s plan of diverting the horde would stand up.

When Daryl and the others returned, Gabriel explained what he wanted to do.

“Is that even going to work?” you asked as you stood in the hallway.

“It’s the only thing we’ve got,” Gabriel said. “If we can get the stereos working and lead the horde away, it may be the only thing capable of drawing away this large of herd.”

“What about the Whisperers in the herd?” Kelly asked. “Isn’t their whole thing herding the Dead towards a certain area?”

“Negan said that it’s more complicated than that,” you said. “It’s not an exact science. If they try to force the Walkers, they start to become more aware of the Living among them. It never ends well.”

“Meaning what?” Carol asked.

“Meaning I don’t like our odds,” Michonne said.

“Neither do I,” you agreed.

“It’s either this or we wait to be slaughtered,” Gabriel said. “And considering we got kids in here, I don’t like that idea at all.”

“Of course not,” Michonne said. “Okay, so we get to the wagons on the outskirts and we get them hooked up, then what? Where do we take them?”

“We can figure that out once we get them away from the tower,” you said. “Beta isn’t going to stop until we are all dead. He can’t take on all of us at once so he’s using his Walkers. This may be the only opportunity that we have to get to him.”

“Beta is not the only enemy out there,” Carol said.

“That’s rich coming from you,” you shot back and Daryl got between the two of you.

“Easy,” he warned. “We are not going to get anything done by fighting among ourselves. Gabriel is right, we have to get to the wagons.”

“We have to get through that horde before we do anything,” you said.

“We’ve done it before,” Daryl said and you quickly realized what he meant as did the others. Michonne made a face of disgust along with your own.

“Well, this isn’t going to be pleasant at all,” you said.

“Never is,” Michonne added, “but we gotta do it.” Frowning down at Paul’s coat, you sighed.

“Fine, someone find us some Walkers,” you said, “and make them extra bloody.”

--------

“Have I told you yet that I hate this plan,” Negan said as you finished strapping your knives to your thighs and storing more in your coat.

“Many times,” you said with a sigh.

“And yet, you’re going through with it,” he said.

“Like Gabe said, we don’t have many other options,” you said, turning to him. “Unless you know if any RPG’s just happen to be in this very building with useable ammunition.”

“Afraid not,” Negan said with a frown.

“Then it looks like we are shit out of luck, honey,” you said as you double-checked your weapon on your hip. “I know you’re worried about me, but I have to do this and so do you.”

“Nah,” Negan said, disagreeing. “I’m not exactly an invisible force when it comes to these assholes. I’ll stick out too much, you’re going to have to do this part without me.”

You knew he was right. There was no doubt that Beta had found Alpha’s head and knew that Negan was the last one to be with her. While Beta still wanted to kill you, right now, Negan was number one on his kill list. You were just hoping that he would be too distracted with his own vengeance to recognize yours. If you could keep hold of even an ounce of surprise, then this would be a whole lot easier.

“I get it,” you said. “I don’t like it, but I do understand.”

“Thanks,” he said. You then pulled him in for a harsh kiss, putting all your passion into it. If this was the last time you held him like that, then you were going to make it count. Pulling back, you stared into his eyes, eager to see that fire. When you did, you gave him a half-smile.

“Now or never, big man,” you said. “Are you with me?”

“Damn right,” he said before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He then pushed you back towards the main hallway where you were supposed to meet Daryl in order to don your Walker disguise. As you walked away, he felt as if you were taking a part of him with you and he prayed that part would be enough to keep you safe.

----------

“Our plan is the same,” Gabriel said as Negan listened at the side. “Lead the horde away, just not from Oceanside as we had planned. Once the Walkers are clear, we evacuate to Rendezvous Point B. Luke, We ready?” Gabriel asked Luke who was standing next to Jules.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh, technically,” Luke said with an attempt at a reassuring smile. “Okay. So, these are the final pieces that we need to connect to the wagon. But in order for it to do the pied piper thing that we need it to do over the cliff, we gotta get from A to B, and I gotta plug and plug,” he said.

“And then we should be good to go?” Kelly asked.

“Hopefully,” Luke said.

“That wagon is on the other side of the horde,” Beatrice said.

“Which is why we have these,” Daryl grunted as he and Jerry dragged in two extra-large Walkers into the foyer of the tower.

“Oh man, this is just wrong,” Luke said.

“But it works,” Gabriel said. “Trust me, I know.” Negan smirked at that, remembering that time he and Gabriel had done the guts trick to get back into the Sanctuary. That time felt like another lifetime ago now that he was thinking about it.

Negan stepped away from the group temporarily, heading to one of the vacant watchpoints. His eyes scanned the horde for Beta, but he couldn’t see the man amongst his Dead. If Beta was out there, he was staying out of sight for a reason. Negan never pegged the man as one who would lead the army. He was more of a free agent when it came to taking orders from his Alpha. However, now with Alpha gone, it seemed as if the Beta had finally taken command of the pack.

It wasn’t very reassuring.

Negan had seen some large hordes since this had all started. He had even told you about a particular one that scared the hell out of him. Negan didn’t think a tow truck would be able to get through this one even if it had a flame thrower attached to it. Michonne was right, he didn’t like their odds either.

Taking one last look, Negan turned away and headed back into the fold.

As he neared the main area of the fighters who were waiting to go out, he noticed you, soaked in Walker blood, trying not to gag. If it was any other scenario, he would think it was adorable.

It was a moment later that Daryl noticed Negan.

“Hey,” Daryl called, approaching Negan, “why you clean?”

“I ain't goin’,” Negan declared.

“You've done this more than any of us,” Daryl said. “How the hell is this any different?”

“I am on the tip-top of every skins' kill list. Especially Fee Fi Fo asshole. So, if the idea is to get through without drawing a shitload of attention, then I am the last person these people want standing next to them,” Negan said, not liking the idea of more of these people dying because of him.

“That's a bunch of bullshit,” Daryl said, shaking his head. “You wanna be a part of this? You gotta put your ass on the line just like everybody else and (Y/N) needs you by their side.”

“They understand,” Negan said.

“Do they?” Daryl scoffed.

“Yeah, I do,” you said as you approached. “I thought we could do this together, but we can’t. At least, not this part.” Negan nodded, agreeing with you.

“We’re just leading the horde away,” Daryl said.

“You are,” you said. “I’m not.”

Daryl understood your words immediately. Negan, who had already guessed your plan, was silent as he stood by your side. Daryl was shaking his head as he looked at you. You were one of his closest friends and he was just realizing how serious you were when it came to getting to Beta. He had been so focused on Carol’s vendetta against Alpha, that he had missed the signs of your own fury.

“No,” he said, “not like this.”

“I’ve already made my decision, Daryl,” you said. “You’re not going to change my mind. Look, Gabriel is staying behind to protect the kids and I need you to disperse the herd.”

“Are you hearin’ this?” Daryl asked Michonne who was nearby.

“I am,” she said with a nod, “ and I am trusting that they know what they’re doing.”

“Fucking ridiculous,” Daryl said as he stormed away.

“Great, so if I die, he’ll be dancing on my grave,” you said as you watched him walk away.

“Daryl will be fine,” Michonne assured you. “Besides, Daryl doesn’t dance,” she said with a wink and a nod before going to follow him in preparation to leave.

-----------

You lost sight of Negan shortly after the group headed out of the tower.

While you were still covered in the Walker guts, you weren’t leaving just yet. You had a plan and you needed to stick with it. Standing across from Dianne, you watched as your family began to move through the Dead. You could make out a few of them, but not everyone. Also with the sun beginning to set, you knew that it was only a matter of time before you lost all visibility.

Everything that had happened since that first wind storm, was suddenly echoing around in your head. You had lost people shortly after that night and it just kept crashing down like that tree that collapsed the wall behind your house. You weren’t even sure if your house was still standing at this point. Aaron and Alden had radioed to say that the horde had moved through Alexandria, trampling it. They were supposed to keep on them, but then their line had gone silent and nobody was hearing from them.

It was making you nervous, not knowing where your friends were. You knew that Enid was worried, but she was staying busy, looking after the kids with Siddiq who was constantly hovering over Rosita and Coco. Considering they were the only doctors in the group, they would not be going out into the horde until it was clear. They would head straight for the meeting point and even then it was a risk to have them out there. However, you knew that they were strong fighters and that they would do everything to survive. They had proved that the night Alpha had taken them.

The Fair seemed so long ago. That moment of you walking up the hill to see your friends and family on pikes still haunted you, but you used those feelings of horror and despair to keep your vision alive. The vision you had of your future with both Negan and Lydia by your side.

You had always fought for family and you were not going to let Beta take that away from you.

A sudden scream broke you out of your thoughts as Beatrice went down in the horde. Dianne was stunned next to you as you watched the woman being torn apart by Beta’s guardians. You knew that Carol had been with her, but you couldn’t tell if she was down as well. You couldn’t look away as blood and flesh were covering the Walkers as they feasted on your friend.

Holding your head higher, you moved away from the window and headed towards the elevator shaft. Catching Negan’s eye who stood near Lydia, you nodded to him. He nodded back and with one final look, you grabbed the rope and began to propel down, adjusting your focus not on your family above, but the enemy below.

-------

“They're coming up,” Judith said, who was staring at the stairwell in horror. Gabriel pushed her back, holding her tightly.

“You all know what to do,” Gabriel said. “Dianne, you get the first group. Children and wounded come second. If Rosita argues, just come and find me.”

The evacuation went smoothly as Dianne got everyone out, even Rosita and her baby. It was going well, but Negan knew it wasn’t nearly done. There was more work to be done.

Not too far away from Gabriel, Negan spoke to Lydia. “You know how this ends,” he said with a sigh.

“I don't and neither do you,” Lydia argued, looking up at him with those big brown eyes of hers.

“Come on, kid,” Negan said. “You being here when the shitstorm hits ain't changing what definitely is happening.”

“I'm not leaving,” she said defiantly.

“They're never gonna trust me, you,” Negan said, knowing well enough that no matter who he wanted to spend his life with, he would never be more than what these people remember from eight years ago. “Doesn't matter what we do now. You can just slip out, down, and dance your way through the Dead.”

“So can you,” Lydia pointed out, gesturing to the Whisperer mask he still had in his jacket.

“Like you said, I ain't no hero,” Negan said.

“You could be,” Lydia prompted.

“Well,” Negan said, pulling her into his side. “I guess that's what I'm doing now. You be careful, kiddo, and you know what?” Negan then pulled out another mask from his coat, one that Lydia instantly recognized as her mother’s. “You take this and you use it for good, you know, if that’s something you feel like doin’, alright?”

Lydia took the mask in her hands and clutched it in a fist.

“Don’t die,” she whispered. “Please, Negan, I can’t lose any more family.”

“I ain’t plannin’ on it,” he said as he kissed the top of her head and then turned his back on the room. Lydia watched as Negan took hold of the rope that led into the elevator shaft. Not looking back, he began to descend. He didn’t stop until his boots found solid ground again.

Shoving the mask onto his face, Negan pushed out into the world, ready to face anything that it threw at him. Even if it was for the last time.

He was on the outskirts of the horde when he exited the building, but he didn’t see any Whisperers and he didn’t see you. He didn’t think you would be waiting out in the open so he figured you had disappeared into the trees or even the horde itself.

Pulling the bat off his shoulder, Negan looked down at what you had coined “Lucille 2.0”. His hand wrapped around the end of the bat, feeling the familiar grip. With a deep breath, he held it close to his face one last time. “Thanks, old girl,” he whispered before tossing the bat into the horde of Walkers. He watched as it disappeared amongst the Dead and felt another weight disappear from his shoulders.

Drawing his knife, Negan began to move through the herd in hopes of finding you and the man you were going to take down. He just hoped that Daryl’s plan started to work and that the building behind him didn’t succumb to the wave of Walkers among him.

-----------

Something was wrong, that much you knew.

You didn’t know what it was, but the horde had stopped moving in the direction of the cliffside. You could hear the crashing of metal and cracking of stone behind you as the horde moved into the building.

The only good thing was that only the Whisperers could move up into the building and you were just hoping Gabriel had enough fighters to keep them back. However, he was also trying to evacuate people so it could easily go bad very quickly.

Fresh blood was splattered on nearby Walkers and you were praying that it was Whisperer blood and not the blood of your family. You wanted to stop and search for any bodies, but so far, you had gone undetected in the herd and you needed to keep it that way.

Shouts of alarm came from the building, but you couldn’t turn back and so, you kept Walking.

It was well into the evening when everything seemed to slow down. You had been moving through the horde slowly, taking out any Whisperer that recognized you. It was easy to do, a few quick slashes and the blood would attract the Dead. However, as you killed more of them, they began to realize the enemy had infiltrated their own army.

It was a few minutes later that you saw a familiar face in the crowd. Magna moved behind a slow-moving form and then slit their throat. The Whisperer fell to the ground as Walkers fell upon them, and then, Magna was gone.

You heard more sounds of choking as more Whisperers fell to the phantom movements of your friends and family. You could never pinpoint where they were in the crowd, but soon, you began to join in the stealth mission. Using your smaller blades, you cut down Whisperers, silencing them once and for all.

When one went to stab you first, Kelly was there in a second, slitting their throat, and throwing them down to the ground. You nodded to her as you passed by and she reached out and grabbed your hand quickly before continuing on.

Everything was going as planned, but you couldn’t find Lydia. You didn’t know if she had joined up with Daryl or had stayed behind with Gabriel. You hoped that Negan had eyes on her, but you didn’t know where he was either.

As the sun finally set and darkness fell, the horde began to thin and the enemy was finally exposed.

Negan saw him first.

Beta stood amongst the dwindling Dead acting as if he was the king of them all. A moment on the left, caught both men’s attention as Alpha’s mask moved through the crowd.

Negan shook his head at the move Lydia had made. If he wasn’t sure that she wasn't, he would have thought she really was his kid considering how daring she was with taunting Beta like this.

Beta stared at her in awe until she disappeared again from view. It was enough of a distraction for Negan to move in.

He knew you had to be close so with a smirk, he let loose his memorable melodic whistle, something he hadn’t done in a while.

He just hoped that you would get the meaning. He was essentially sending up a flare in the form of a few notes. “Come get him,” Negan whispered as he approached Beta. “Hey, shithead,” he spoke louder, gaining the attention of Beta.

The larger man instantly locked onto Negan’s position with ferocity. Recognizing him, Beta charged right for him. Negan braced himself for impact when Beta threw a Walker at him. “Shit!” Negan said as the Dead man fell upon him, its jaws fighting their way towards his throat. Pulling his knife, Negan finished off the Walker, kicking it away, but Beta wasn’t done.

He threw himself toward Negan as the latter tried to get to his feet. Beta aimed his fist at Negan’s head, catching him in the temple and Negan went down hard. Blinking back the black spots in his vision, he focused back on the enemy above him.

“For Alpha,” Beta growled. Negan stared him down as Beta raised his knives above his head, ready to strike true, but a sound from his left made him turn. He snarled as you came running from the horde with your sword in your hand. Beta didn’t have any time to move as you rushed past him, your blade slashing out to the side and cutting both of the man’s Achilles tendons.

Beta yelled out in pain as blood pooled from his ankles. Negan pushed him off of him as you circled back. Kicking his knives from his hands, you reached down and shoved your blade into Beta’s shoulder. The same shoulder you had injured in your fight with him in Alexandria. Beta bared his teeth at you and that’s when you noticed the new mask on his face.

It was half of Alpha’s own face.

He seemed to be sneering at you as you reached forward and placed your hand on his throat, forcing him to look at you. “I’ll kill you,” he spat.

“You make veiled threats,” you said, quoting what he had first said to you in the clearing as your friends were being slaughtered by his Alpha. “I told you that I wasn’t going to die like this. Not by you or anyone.” Beta yelled, trying to get up and attack you when suddenly Daryl appeared out of the darkness.

Pulling his blades, Daryl brought them down into Beta’s back, keeping him in place. The shock of pain sent Beta back to the ground. Blood bubbled at his lips and you leaned in closer, making sure your face was the last one that he saw. “Killer,” Beta spat at you as Daryl pulled his blades from Beta’s body.

“No,” you said as you pulled back and then in one fluid motion, buried your sword up into his chest. “Survivor,” you corrected as you withdrew your weapon and kicked him to the ground and towards his own Walkers who smelled the fresh blood immediately.

Negan and Daryl instantly, stepped in front of you as you watched the Dead tear apart Beta. The sound of tearing flesh and the growls of the Walkers had never sounded so liberating before. Negan slowly took hold of his mask and tore it from his face, letting it drop to the ground beside him. Daryl, who had been the first one to fight Beta, let out a breath that spoke louder than words.

They had won.

“Now is it over?” you asked, leaning on your sword,

“Yeah,” Daryl said. “It’s over. Come on,” he said as he passed Negan, knocking his fist against the taller man’s shoulder. Negan then reached down and took your hand in his and without looking back, walked away from the bloodbath that had ended the war.

---------

The sun was rising by the time, you managed to find the group again.

You, Daryl, and Negan found Carol first. The woman looked as if she had been through hell, but she lit up as soon as she saw her best friend. Daryl grabbed her first, hugging her close. It immediately reminded you of when they had reunited after Terminus.

Looking around, you couldn’t find the person you had been worried about since you had dropped down the elevator shaft. “Lydia,” you said, “where is she?” Carol looked up from her moment with Daryl and approached you.

“Rendezvous point,” Carol said. “She went looking for you. Both of you,” she said, sending a look to Negan. You didn’t hesitate to start running through the trees. Negan was right behind you as you jumped over old roots and fallen branches. Your only thoughts were on Lydia and if she was okay. Seeing the break in the trees ahead of you, you slid to a stop, your eyes scanning the area.

Negan arrived right behind you, but then, he froze. He felt as if the world was suddenly pulled out from under his feet. Everything around him felt on fire as he beheld who was kneeling in front of Judith, speaking softly to her.

Maggie Rhee.

You noticed his hesitation immediately. “What’s wrong? Do you not see her?” you asked, still looking around for Lydia.

“(Y/N)…” Negan said slowly.

“What?” you asked and then he was nodding over to where he was looking. Turning, your eyes found Maggie who had finally noticed Negan. The woman was staring at him as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Negan swallowed thickly as Maggie stared him down.

There weren’t many people in the world that scared him as much as Maggie Rhee did and he was not looking forward to the words she would definitely be throwing at him. “Ignore her,” you said.

“(Y/N),” he said again. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him back to face you. He did, looking down at you with worry in his eyes.

“Just for right now,” you said. “We need to find‒”

“Hey!” a familiar voice called out and you could have sunk to the ground at the amount of relief that flooded your system.

“Oh, thank god,” you said as you turned to see Lydia running towards you. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked exhausted but she was alive and that was all that mattered. Lydia ran right to you, throwing her arms around you and Negan. You didn’t hesitate to follow suit, wrapping your arms around both of them.

Your family.

Negan squeezed both of you tight in his arms, finally letting his heart settle from all the adrenaline that was pulsing through him. “Is he dead?” Lydia asked as she was pressed between you two.

“He’s dead,” you whispered. “I promise, we got him.” Lydia pressed herself tighter to you before she stepped back with a relieved expression on her face. You then grabbed her and checked her for injuries. Lydia was doing the same as she checked over you and Negan. When Lydia noticed the blossoming head wound on Negan’s forehead, she became worried.

“I’m fine, kiddo,” he assured her. “I’ll take a bruise over a body bag any day.” Lydia then looked from him to you and then back at him.

“Does this mean you’re staying?” she asked, looking at him with hope in her eyes.

“Nothing is going to make me leave you,” he said. “Either of you.” Lydia let out a breath as she moved in to hug him again, coiling her arms around his waist. He held her back and sent a wink to you over her shoulder. You moved and picked up his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, not caring who was watching.

You would deal with her later.

“So, now what?” Lydia asked.

“Now, we start fresh,” you said, taking her hand in yours, Lydia leaned into Negan, her head resting on his chest. “And who knows, maybe we discover a little more about each other along the way.”

“I like the sound of that,” Negan said as he tugged you into his side.

“Me too,” Lydia sighed.

“Good cause I am not giving up on either of you,” you said, trying not to get emotional, but it was futile. Letting a tear fall, you smiled at them. “You’re my family,” you choked out.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Negan said as he leaned down and pulled you in for a kiss. You kissed him back quickly, knowing there was a future ahead of you filled with more. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you said. “Until the end of our little universe.” Negan grinned at that as he pulled you and Lydia in closer, holding onto his found family.

There was a lot more to come and you knew that. With Maggie’s reappearance, it was not going to be easy and there were always going to be more enemies and wars to fight. However, because you had the man you loved and a kid who was a hell of a fighter, you knew you were going to be okay no matter what the new world threw at you.

After years of feeling like an outsider, you finally felt whole and it was all because you took a chance and spoke to the big bad wolf.

THE END.

TAGS: @not-too-tall-for-trick @lucillethings @cameronsails @stark-dreams @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @waspyyy @yespleasejayhalstead @hoemadegrace @writingdeadangel @huffledor-able541 @pulplorrd @felicisimor

#the walking dead #walkerwords #twd #twd imagines #the walking dead imagines #negan imagine #reader insert #savior sessions #the walking dead imagine #twd imagine #negan x you #negan x reader #negan x gn reader #negan x y/n

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seanfalco · 3 years

Text

Win’s Bad Day | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

an oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco & @super-unpredictable98

Word Count: 1.1k Warnings: Mention of past self harm, Smoking a/n: No smut this time, just good old hurt/comfort

[ masterlist ]

Win pulled her legs to her chest as she placed another cigarette between her lips, pressing her back to the sliding glass door as she looked over the Estate, staring numbly. Her hair was a mess and she still wore one of Nathan’s shirts from the other day, not even bothering to put on pants or clean her makeup off, which had long since run down her face from her tears earlier.

Now she just felt empty, unsure when the others would be back.

"Darling, we're home!" Lydia cheerfully greeted as she walked in, followed by the boys who carried her guitar, amp, keyboard, and other assorted equipment.

"Winnie?" Lyddie's Nathan called, looking around, the TV was off; the flat was silent.

"Baby?" Lydia spotted her at the tiny balcony. "Sweetie, we're back, are you hungry? I could make some... have you been crying? What happened?" she exclaimed as she pulled open the door, finally getting a better look at her girlfriend.

Win quickly scrubbed at her face, horrified they’d caught her like this. “Nothing!” she said quickly, though the word came out choked. “I-I’m fine!” she insisted.

“You don’t look fine,” her Nathan pointed out gently, but that only made her shrug and fold in on herself even more, trying to avoid their worried glances.

"Hey, look at me," Lydia cooed, taking Win's face between her hands and kissing her forehead gently. "We love you. You can tell us anything. Did something happen to leave you like this?" she wondered, trying to hold back the brunt of her concern.

"If it was Delilah or whatever, Lydia can kick her ass again..." Lyddie’s Nathan joked, hoping to get a smile out of her.

Win tried to smile, but it came out forced and she shook her head shortly, feeling tears begin to well in her eyes again.

Great, I guess I’m gunna cry in front of everyone again, she thought.

“No, it’s just... me. It’s just me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she sighed, sniffling.

“She gets like this sometimes...” Win’s Nathan whispered in Lydia’s ear. “She punched th’wall once… I thought she’d broken her hand...”

At Nathan’s words, Lydia’s expression darkened with worry for a moment before softening as she knelt before her. "Aw, Winnie, come here, it's alright." Lydia took her girlfriend into her arms, holding her tightly. "There's nothing wrong with you, you're just having a bad day,” she said, kissing the top of Win's head.

"Is there anythin' we can do t'help?" Lyddie's Nathan knelt by them as well, stroking Win's hair gently. "Anythin' in the world? Y'have two immortal reality benders and a human fortress at your service..."

“I don’t know!” Win sobbed, finally cracking, burying her face in Lyddie’s chest. “I just wanna stop feeling like this! I just wanna disappear!” No longer able to hold back her tears they ran freely down her cheeks.

“Let’s get her inside...” her Nathan suggested. “She’ll catch cold if she sits out here any longer.”

"Come on, let's get inside," Lydia murmured, holding Win as they got up. "If you feel sick just borrow my power, alright?"

"Sounds like y'just need some love, maybe some tea? Or chocolate?" Lyddie's Nathan joined the girls on the couch, covering them both with a blanket.

“J-just some water or juice?” Win asked in between sniffles, curling up with Lydia.

“Can I get yeh anything?” her Nathan asked, fidgeting as she stood there, unsure how to help.

“A hug?” Win answered pathetically and Nathan felt his heart constrict.

“O’course, sweetheart,” he exclaimed, crawling under the blanket on her other side to wrap his arms around her.

Lyddie's Nathan ran to the kitchen and came back with a glass of orange juice. "Here, would a hug from me also be helpful?"

Lydia smiled, pulling him closer so they could all be together. She tucked Win's hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek softly. "I love you," she murmured, running her fingers along the other woman's arm. "You're the best girlfriend anyone could ask for, I'm so sorry you're feeling this way."

“But I’m not the best. I’m rotten and good for nothing,” Win mumbled, her words muffled by Lyddie’s chest.

"What?!" Lyddie's Nathan was taken back by the vehemence in her words. "That's not true, Winnie! Meetin' you and Lyds was the best thing that ever happened to us!" he cried, looking to his clone for support.

"Don't say that, baby," Lydia frowned. "You’re amazing, and talented, and beautiful, and kind, and sweet. I have no idea how I got so lucky to have you fall in love with me..."

“They’re right,” Win’s Nathan murmured in her ear as she only hid her face deeper, still shaking with silent sobs. “I don’t know what I’d do without yeh.”

He hated seeing Win this way, and though it hadn’t happened recently, he could remember all too well the times in the past where he’d found her like this.

“No, I don’t deserve any of you!” Win cried, pitifully. “Maybe I’ve just-just tricked you into thinking that!”

"Nathan might not be the brightest, we can all agree on that--" Lydia began, rolling her eyes.

"Hey! We're right here!" her Nathan scolded playfully, cutting in.

"--But I'm pretty damn smart,” Lydia continued as if he hadn’t interjected. “I had to have something going for me when I was ugly..." she joked. "You wouldn't trick me into thinking that. You just can't see it right now, but you’re incredible. I hope I never have to be away from you, because I don't know if I could live without you anymore..." she said, feeling tears begin to run down her face as well.

“Oh Lyddie, don’t cry! See I made you cry, I-I’m sorry!” Win hugged her tighter, no doubt leaving a wet spot on her shirt from her tears. “I love you too! All of you!” she sobbed. “Please don’t leave me!”

“Is that what this is about?” her Nathan asked, stroking her hair, helplessly. “We’re not goin’ anywhere! Not over my dead body, and I can’t die! Remember?”

“But.. but what if you get tired of me?” Win asked irrationally.

"We're not leavin', not now, not ever," Lyddie's Nathan assured. "How could we get tired of you? That's like sayin' we'd get tired of pizza or-or ice cream, that just would never happen! Forget it, you're stuck with us," he shrugged.

"You didn't make me cry, Winnie," Lydia murmured, holding her tightly in return. "I'm crying because I thought of my life without you. I’d feel so incomplete... We're not leaving, there's no getting tired of you, you make our lives brighter."

Finally Win nodded, starting to believe them. “I love you Lyddie,” she murmured, “I love you Nathan, and you too Natty,” she sniffled, looking to each of the boys. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did to deserve you all.”

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Lydia whispered. "Everyone feels like that sometimes, it's normal. We love all of you, all the time, not just the good moments, we're here for the bad ones too. You're not perfect, but that's what I like about you, you can pick up the pieces and keep going."

"Lyds has the way with words y'know, but we love you too, so much," Lyddie’s Nathan said, kissing the back of her hands.

Win’s lip quivered as if she was going to start sobbing all over again. “Can we stay like this just a little longer? I still feel a little fragile,” she asked feebly.

"As long as you want, sweetheart," Lydia assured her, bringing Win's face closer to kiss her lovingly. "We’ll hold you all night long if that's what it takes, we're not goin’ anywhere.”

Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @santacarlahorrorshow @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator @spanishmossmagnolia @salvador-daley @forenschik @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @captainsheeballs

#misfits #nathan young #nathan young x oc #nathan x lyddie #nathan x win #otp: green apple lollipop #timeline anomaly’verse #collaboration

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witching-hour · 4 years

Text

Love on Hold [Jax Teller x Reader]

(A/N): was feeling angsty after watching a montage of clips from season six of jara — their worst and most heartbreaking season. this is based on the last episode of season 5 and includes season 6 elements which had not taken place yet, so bare with my little au. this rewrite really went from 1379 words to 2777 words

SUMMARY: the reader confronts jax about his questionable actions towards wendy and reveals her plans about leaving charming

TW: usual soa violence, s5 + s6 spoilers, character death

UNSHED tears of disbelief and anger clouded your vision, making you blink them back, looking away from your husband who had blatantly lied to your face. You didn’t want to believe what you knew, but the evidence was laying out in front of you, and you couldn’t just ignore the facts.

You saw how these past few months of overturned leadership has changed him. The gavel corrupts, Bobby once warned you after voicing your concerns about Jax’s new position with SAMCRO. Be prepared for anything, sweetheart. It ain’t goin’ to be easy.

You knew that his warning was not misguided or out of line. You saw what being president had done to JT and Clay. You knew with ‘great power came great responsibility.’ Jax would carry a heavier weight than he did when he was VP. He might have to make calls that may seem questionable as he will be faced with hard decisions that he won’t want to make, but will have to for the sake of his club. And with him as president, it made you the new queen of SAMCRO. He would be away from home more, leaving you to really step up to the plate as the First Lady.

You also had new responsibilities, which could be counted as benefits or drawbacks. You were not the VP’s Old Lady – you were the Prez’s. As Jax carried a heavier weight, you would too.

Jax may have been a bad boy – an outlaw, but he had a heart of gold. And that heart is what made you fall in love with him in the first place.

Your husband had confided in you when he got out of prison about how he wanted out of outlaw and wanted more for his kids than a life of chaos and danger. After the past couple years of shit the club had faced, especially the events of Belfast, you understood where he was coming from because you felt the same way. However, you were wary, mostly seeing it as post prison blues. All Jax knew was outlaw, it was in his DNA. Charming was his home and the Son’s was his family. You knew that Jax wanted to push the club in a different direction, a more legitimate one. It was going to take a lot of time and effort to do so, but you and many of the members believed that Jax would be the one to turn the club around.

You voiced your opinions, but Jax made it clear he wanted to be a better man for you and his sons. Too much blood had been spilt, and the club lost its way. Eventually you were on board. But things went south in your plan to get out of Charming. As you had dreaded but knew deep down it was inevitable. With the club and Gemma, how were you even going to be able to make it to the town’s border?

When Jax informed you of the CIA meddling in a case with the Galindo Cartel and them needing SAMCRO to continue the supplying of guns, or they’d push for the R.I.C.O. case they just finally gotten off their backs, you knew Clay had left one huge unfuckable mess behind to his stepson and future president.

With the CIA pulling the strings, Jax was stuck in between a rock and a hard place. While he wanted better for the club and pull it out from the darkness it’s been submerged in for so long, he would put the whole club and his family in jeopardy if he caused the CIA problems and got R.I.C.O. dangling over their heads again. He was keeping too many secrets from the table between the CIA’s involvement, the letters from his father about Clay’s betrayal, and Piney’s real murderer.

Then Opie was killed

– and Jax lost a piece of himself along with him.

Something in Jax had changed. He grew cold and detached. You tried to pull him from the darkness, but he was turning into a shell of who he once was. Jax was slipping and everyone saw it. The minute Bobby realized he wasn’t getting through to the man he saw as his own, he pulled out of SAMCRO and joined the Nomads; making Chibs VP and Happy the new Sergeant in Arms. Eventually Bobby came back after recruiting some Nomads and helping bring his prez back into his own skin. And for a while the Jackson you knew was back, but then he started slipping again.

He had all the power and not the first clue on how to deal with it.

Meanwhile all this was going on, you had tried to be there for him, but there was only so much you could do. He had found it less and less to come and confide in you. The agreement of full disclosure no longer existed between you and Jax. Your titles as an Old Lady and wife ceased to have meaning. Jax only ever kept you at arm’s length.

With full disclosure thrown out the window and secrets being kept and lies more common than none, who knows what other promises he made he failed to upkeep?

No lies.

No secrets.

No hurting women.

No infidelity.

You could cross at least three off that list.

He sat across from you at the kitchen table, watching as your jaw clenched and eyes glazed over. His eyebrows pinched together in bewilderment at your clear display of emotions; disappointment, anger, disbelief. He watched as you fought to keep the tears at bay. Your irises flickered up to the ceiling, growing wide as you blinked a few times, they finally met his laid-back figure in the wooden chair.

“Wendy showed up at my job earlier today – a complete wreck – frantic, clothes disheveled, hair a mess, anxiety practically seeping out of her pores…She accused me of putting you up to what you did. I didn’t understand what the hell she was talking about at first. I didn’t even know you went to her place last night, so I covered for you, just in case you were stuck with club business last night, and, boy, was I wrong.” The realization dawned on him as you spoke, shame stretching across his sharp features. His eyes closed briefly, and his head tilted up as his jaw clenched, anger simmering on the surface. You just couldn’t tell if it was from you finding out about it or him actually committing the act. Your guess was both.

“She’s been sober – she’s been clean for four years. How could you of all people take that away from her?” You scoffed, not even bothering to let him answer if he even had one. He didn’t. “Hell, Jax, you were the one supporting her when she was laid up in the hospital. When Gemma was telling her to kill herself, you were there defending her. You encouraged her to get clean; even offered her a place to stay.”

He didn’t say a thing, only stared down at the table where his ringed fingers laid in loosely held fists.

“Yes, I was pissed when Wendy threatened for custody over Abel, but, seeing it now, do you fucking blame her? He’s been kidnapped and used as leverage with the goddamn IRA. He and Delilah were in the car when Clay’s hit on me almost earned a payday. And we were all made targets when the Irish tried to fucking blow us up in the Clubhouse; the one place we were supposed to always be safe. If you didn’t see that damn pen, Jackson, we’d be dead – all of us. Our kids, Gemma, Nero, Chibs, Happy, Tig, Bobby, Juice, Quinn, Rat, Chucky....Should I go on?”

Still, he remained silent, only now his eyes bore into yours as silent pleas stretched across the table for this conversation to end before it got worse. He could feel where the end of your confrontation would conclude for your family. His heart fell heavy in his chest and his blood ran cold by the time he came home and noticed you sitting at the table playing with your engagement and wedding rings. He could feel the tension rolling off you in waves and they only got thicker as he made his way deeper into the dimly lit room. When you requested for him to have a seat he began listing as many ways it would go.

Yet as you continued to speak, he stayed quiet. He didn’t have any answers to the questions you were asking. Or at least any that would satisfy you.

“I didn’t want her taking my son, but that didn’t mean it gave you the right to take something she worked so hard on, and might i add, it was something she did for Abel.”

His jaw clenched at the mention of his indiscretion. “I did what I had to in order to protect our family.”

And how he couldn’t have sounded more like Gemma in that moment. Was she the one who twisted his mind up into doing something so horrible? Was it her influence? The club’s?

You loved Gemma. She was your mother-in-law after all. You may have bumped heads in the beginning of your relationship, but the matriarch eventually came around to you being a part of Jax’s life (and Abel’s). However, the last year or so you have seen her in a new light. Well, as new as it gets with Gemma. She could be downright manipulative when she wanted to be, that was a known. Especially with her golden boy Jax. It was a given Gemma would do absolutely anything to protect her family.

Sometimes you found yourself questioning how far she was willing to go – if there was a line she wouldn’t cross, but sometimes you also found yourself agreeing with some of the things she did. Since you were also a mother, you could understand, but it didn’t mean it was right.

You had recently gotten involved in some club business for your husband and your SAMCRO family, which blew back on you and raised suspicion with the authorities causing a case to be built against you. The case had gotten dropped and you took the opportunity to accept the job offer in Colorado that you were presented with long before Jax even got out of Stockton. You had politely declined but was called again around the time Jax voiced his opinions about leaving the club and Charming behind. Gemma had used her knowledge as leverage and threatened you the day before to rat on you when she found out you wanted to leave Charming and take the kids to Colorado – regardless if Jax was to follow you. Either way Mama Gemma was not about to let you take her son and grandchildren away from her.

Your eyes narrowed in disbelief, a small sound making its way from the back of your throat. “How can you justify that? Who even are you?!” You jolted from your seat, no longer finding yourself calm enough to stay seated. Jax followed your movements. “What…what happened to we don’t hurt women? What happened to women and children being off limits to the club’s brutality? Did that all slip away when you became president too?”

“What the hell s’that supposed to mean?!”

Hysterical laughs escaped you. Those uncontrollable laughs then turned into sobs. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, attempting to stop the cries, but failed.

“I – I – I can’t – I can’t do this anymore,�� you cried. “When I look at you...I don’t know what I see…and that terrifies me.” Your confession rose emotions you couldn’t pinpoint in his body stature or those daring blues that make you melt at one look. You took in a shaky breath, an equally shaky exhale leaving you. “I refuse for us to be the next Clay and Gemma. I’m sorry, but that’s where I draw the line. The longer we’re here, the deeper we sink into the darkness, Jax, and the more we lose of ourselves, and the more we turn into the people we despise the most.”

He shook his head, clearly disagreeing with what you were saying. “We’re not them.”

“You’re right, we’re not.” You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. “We’re worse. We pretend that we’re better. But how are we any better than them based on the things we’ve done.”

“Babe-” he went to move toward you, but you only took a step back putting a hand out and in between the two of you.

“No.”

“(Y/N/N)—”

“No!” he stopped dead in his tracks at your shout.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, holding back the amount of tears that could challenge that of a tsunami. “I was offered the position in Colorado again. They’re promoting me too.” you told him. “I took it.”

Jax’s eyes widened at the news, his hands gripping the back of the chair, hunched over the wooden seat. “You made this decision without me? You didn’t think to talk it over with me first?”

“I’m way past asking permission when it comes to my life. Or my children’s lives.”

“You’re takin’ them from me.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement of incredulity. Had it really come to this? Had you both really drifted too far this time?

“You said it yourself last year, Jax. JT should have run Gemma over if it meant getting you and Thomas out of Charming and away from the madness of the club.” Using his own words against him. That was something you were known to do and relatively good at. It was scary, but effective to say the less. It would get your point across, didn’t it? “And if that’s what it takes, then so be it. I won’t make the same mistakes.”

“This is not the life we wanted for them. And if I’m the only one feeling that way, then I guess I’ll be the only one to do something about it.” You sniffled, doing your best to avoid his burning gaze. You knew if you even got a glimpse at the broken look on his face you would cave, and you needed to be strong for your kids. “You said you were gonna make it better. You said you were gonna get out of the drugs and guns. You said you were gonna get them out, remember?” You reminded him of the promises he made, but proved to be empty.

You wiped another fallen tear with the sleeve of your shirt. “I know that getting out of all the illegal shit was going to take time. I know that shit wasn’t going to just go away overnight. I know that you’re struggling with being the man you want to be and the man you have to be – not that you would say anything anyway.” you shrugged. “Baby, your slipping and I don’t know how to catch you. Your changing and it’s scaring me.”

“The club shit is getting so much worse and I can’t just sit here twiddling my thumbs pretending that everything’s going to be okay. I just can’t.” You sounded defeated but the stern tone didn’t cease. “I have to do what best for my babies.”

“And what about us?” He pleaded, throwing his arms out before letting them drop to his sides.

“This isn’t about us, Jackson. It’s not just us anymore,” you reminded him. “This is about them.” You told him, watching as the world in his deep blue eyes come crashing down. “I have to put my love for you on hold and theirs have to come first.”

His body was leant up against the cabinets, defeated and poignant. His ringed fingers ran through his already tangled hair from the number of times he pulled on it. One of them ran over his face before both hands met at the center, falling in the praying position.

Your heart was breaking. The end of your marriage was here, but you had to be strong; not for yourself, but for your two babies who were sleeping soundly in their rooms down the hall, oblivious to what was going on between their mommy and daddy. You had to be strong for them and your unborn child of eight weeks. You had to do better in order for them to live better a life. One that was worth living. Your love for Jax would never go away. You will always love him, despite anything he may say or do, nothing could possibly change how you feel about him. And perhaps that was the problem, but your children came first.

Being a mother came before being a wife or Old Lady.

SOA TAG LIST: @cutekittylexie @talicat713 @woahitslucyylu @xx--day-dreamer--xx @sweetpeaflower01 @rebelwrites

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clonecaptains · 4 years

Photo

MAKE YOUR MARK; a whiskey x reader fic

rated: m for sexual themes, some dirty talk

word count: a little over 1k

summary: waking up with whiskey in the morning

a/n: this is going to be a new series of fics feat our fave cowboy who deserves better!!!! this is a little au ive concocted - and these little fics will all fit in this universe! the fics won’t necessarily be in any kind of order - just little slices of life etc. also if you have any requests for a little fic in this au i welcome it!

The sunlight peeks through the curtains onto your bedroom floor. It’s early. You weren’t quite ready to get up yet. You had no where to be, no reason to get up. So you snuggle deeper under the covers. The sheets soft against your skin. It’s only now you’re remembering that you’re naked. A warm feeling shoots down all the way to your toes at the memory of the night before.

Warm lips sucking your tits, mustache bristles scraping your flesh. Denim rubbing against your sex, riding his thigh. Southern drawl in your ear, a firm hand grabbing and then spanking your ass. Warm body on top of yours, sweet praises whispered. His mouth and hands never stopped moving.

That mouth is slightly agape now, he’s snoring a little. It’s endearing in a way.

You can’t see his face when you roll over, the back of his head is what you see. That, and his broad shoulders. Both arms are under his pillow, and his hair is a complete mess. You smile to yourself knowing when he gets up he’ll fix it. He takes great pride in his hair.

Looking at his shoulders where the sheets have moved down, you see little crescents on his skin from your nails digging into him. He’d say it was a badge of honor.

You don’t want to wake him, you just want to admire your sleeping husband for a few moments. You enjoy watching his shoulders move slowly as he breathes. A little snort escapes every couple minutes and it makes you want to laugh. If you could see his face, you’d guess there was drool coming out of his mouth. He sleeps hard now. Harder than he has before.

He’s told you stories of how little rest he got in his old life.

You first met Whiskey when he was a Statesman. He swept you off your feet, and he fall hard in love with you. But being in a relationship of that nature wasn’t good for business. It put lives in danger. He didn’t want to live without you. So with the help of fellow agents, he got out. Faked his own death. The next day he married you and took you home to a farm in the Kentucky countryside.

And that’s where you reside.

It’s a simple life. Quiet. He thrives in it, you both do. He’s always on the move, doing something to keep himself busy. His current project is building a deck out back. You keep up a small garden, it is a farm after all. And there’s a few horses in the stables.

Today you have plans for a picnic out in the fields. You’re looking forward to it.

You sigh at the thought, maybe a little too loud because your sleeping husband beside you stirs. He lets out a soft groan and sits up, cracking his neck and popping his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you whisper, “I woke you.”

“Nah,” he replies, cracking his neck again. “‘s alright little darlin’. Needed to get up anyway.”

The sheets moved with his body as he sat up, giving you an unobstructed view of his whole back. The muscles move under his skin as he stretches. It’s a wonderful view.

He turns and catches you staring. He raises a brow and smirks, “you see somethin’ ya like little darlin’?” he winks and leans down to kiss your lips. He laughs into the kiss when you laugh, and he peppers your face all over with kisses.

“Whiskey!!!!” you shriek as he starts to tickle you under the covers.

“Sugar, you don’t have to call me that,” he teases nibbling your ear.

After he faked his death, he changed his name. Whiskey was his code name, but it’s always been a nickname to you, so it’s just stuck.

“I’ll call you what I want,” you laugh wrapping your arm around his neck.

“Just don’t call me late for dinner,” he kisses your cheek and lays back down on his back.

You lay down next to him, and he wraps an arm around you and pulls you to him. You cuddle in his embrace and press a kiss wherever your lips can reach. Your lips feel a little dry, so you start to sit up to put on chapstick.

“Where you goin’?” he teases and wraps his arm around you tight.

“I need chap stick!” you laugh and pull free of his ‘grip.’

“Darlin’, you wore me OUT last night. Whoo,” he laughs while you swipe the lip balm on your lips.

“Is that a good thing?” you ask leaning back down. Instead of curling into his side, you smooth his messy hair off his forehead and press a kiss down on his skin. When you pull back you realize it wasn’t chapstick you put on but your red lipstick.

You smirk a little, deciding to have some fun with this.

His eyes are closed, but he’s still talking, chatting away about how good you were for him last night and how damn good your pussy feels. You’re flushing under his compliments, but all the while pressing kisses all over his face, leaving lipstick marks all over. You kiss the corners of his mouth, his lips, his cheeks, forehead, nose, between his eyebrows. All over that handsome face, even his close eyelid.

He’s none the wiser, it’s not uncommon for you to kiss him like this. He’s quite used to your affections. He lives for it.

“Whiskey?”

“Hmm?” he opens one eye and raises a brow.

You only smile, seeing his face completely covered in red lipstick stains.

“Nothin’,” you laugh shaking your head.

“What?” he sits up and yanks off the covers exposing you to him. “What are you up to sugar??” he starts to tickle you again, making you laugh.

With a big hand, he captures you wrists and pins them above his head. With his free hand, he wraps his fingers around your neck. He holds you there and leans down about to kiss your lips, when he stops. His eyebrow raised again, this time a smirk follows.

“Did you put on lipstick?” he smirks. You see his dimples, which you also kissed, have lipstick marks on them too.

Still smirking, he leans down to capture your lips with his. Your lips part, and his tongue tastes your lips.

“I didn’t mean to,” you giggle when he pulls away.

“Mhmm,” he laughs pulling away. He has to know what he looks like, so he hops off the bed and you watch his cute bare butt as he walks into the bathroom.

He flicks on the light, and lets out a loud whistle.

“Damn! I look good like this!” he pokes his head out looking at you. And he is right, he does look good like that. His hair all messy, bright red lipstick stains covering his face.

“I got you all marked up,” you laugh.

“It’s a damn shame. A damn shame,” he tuts and slowly walks back into the bedroom.

“What is?” your eyebrows crease in question.

“You got me all marked up,” he says, kneeling on the bed. “But you? You’re clean as a whistle.”

Understanding his meaning, your face heats up.

“Why don’t you uh, fix that then cowboy?” you blush.

“I think I will sugar. Think I will,” he purrs.

The picnic had to take a rain check. Plans for the day are pushed back due to Whiskey covering your entire body with hickies and a delicious burn from that mustache.

full taglist and masterlist coming soon!!

tagging - @pascalispedro, @pascalisthepunkest, @pajamasecrets, @spacedadheadcanons, @pascalplease, @lannister-slings-and-arrows, @rzrcrst, @coredrive, @hystericalmedicine, @tarrevizslas, @pedroispunk, @thewaythisis, @cptnbvcks, @mandoplease (if you want to be added or removed from this list LET ME KNOW PLS)

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #pedro pascal #kingsman #mine #my gifs #my writing #make your mark #WHOO NEW SERIES

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scholarlypidgeot · 3 years

Note

34?

Pat was walking past the guest bedroom when she saw something that cleared her mind in a moment. The detective leaned up against the desk, one hand putting all her weight on the back of the chair, the other fumbling with the linens around her forehead. One of her bandages had bled through, and she was trying to change it herself. A deep, concerned indignance passed through Pat when she saw this.

“Ash!” The detective looked up in a way that was probably supposed to be sharp, but betrayed the sluggishness of exhaustion. “You should be in bed! You can barely stand upright.”

Ash laughed a little. She sounded downright giddy as Pat got her left arm around her own shoulder.

“Nah. I’m good! Been through alot worse.” Her thick Basin accent only thickened the more exhausted she got. “Thanks for letting me crash here, though. I can leave anytime, I just needed a place to-”

“Nonsense.” Eva appeared at the detective’s other side, and took some of the weight off Patrisia. “You’re at least sleeping the night where Ren and I can monitor you. We’ll call your department and partner when you can use your legs.”

“I can use my legs,” Ash laughed, looking down at her feet, “I just ain’t very good at it right now.”

“Which is why you’re going to lie down for a bit longer while I grab something to clean that wound.” She glanced at Pat as they slid Ash off their shoulders and onto the bed. “You make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pat answered, sitting down next to the detective. Ash huffed, but she didn’t try to stand up again.

There was a moment of quiet after Eva left, and Pat didn’t even realize it was expectant until Ash looked at her and said, “Well? Ain’t ya gonna ask?”

“Naw,” Pat said, fiddling with her glove as she put on her most ridiculous Basin impression. “I ‘aint gonna’ ask.”

Ash snorted. It was a good sound, even if she wasn’t in good condition. “Fine. Let me just say don’t get hit in the head by an aupoc.”

Pat winced in sympathy. “Kick or tail?”

She snorted again. “I think if it’d kicked me I wouldn’t be here. And if I’d been a second slower I also wouldn’t be here. Lotta situations where I wouldn’t be here.”

“Well, I for one am glad that you’re here.” Ash looked at her, and Pat smiled. “Who knows how you would’ve gotten all the way home.”

The detective laughed again, and looked down at her hands, which trembled violently. “I would’ve called Doc, if I could hold a phone.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Want you to-” she realized, and laughed a little. “Oh, goodness no. He’d worry too much. Besides, y’all seem to have me well in hand here. I’ll bother him in the mornin’.”

Pat let that settle before she decided to ask another question she might not otherwise get a straight answer to. “You and Dr. Agon…”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your relationship? I mean, do you guys...y’know…”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do we what?”

“Like...love each other?”

Ash didn’t laugh this time, instead turning thoughtful.

“Love’s a strong word. Sometimes I think so. Sometimes he thinks so. Never really at the same time, though. I guess… no? Least not like whatever you’ve got goin’ with the Prince.”

Pat turned red, even though she knew she had nothing to be ashamed about.

-------

For context: A Basin accent is Texas. Go back and reread Ash’s lines with a thick Southern drawl.

@irishironclad @that-catholic-shinobi @a-beautiful-crow @bespectacled-ghost @borgesperovago @mad-ad @ps-im-blind - if you'd like to be added to/removed from this list, please let me know!

Thanks for the ask! The game for this prompt can be found here. Feel free to send more!

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celestialinent · 3 years

Text

someday it will fit just right

on ao3

In 2 years, Steve would spend his first night truly hungry. In 5 years, he would stand in a cold little cemetery and bury his mother. In 8 years, he would deliver food to the silent Barnes family as they sat shiva. In 11 years, he would go into a tiny metal box and come out a freak. In 14 years, he would die.

But on April 17th, 1931, Steve Rogers woke up to Sarah Rogers singing in her clear voice, thrilled to celebrate her only son’s 13th birthday.

He and Fiona stumbled out from behind the thick curtain that cut the little nook at the far side of the flat where he slept. There were boxty and eggs on the table, and Ma wasn’t even tired, because she had three days off all in a row. He was still young enough not to question the luck. He wasn’t aware that Sarah had begged and traded with the other nurses to get the days, promising to work shifts no one wanted, knowing it would hurt their purse at the end of the month and doing it anyway to make her boy happy.

“Stiofán,” she greeted him, and Steve smiled. She only called him by his Irish name when she was in the best moods, and as he got older and the trouble he got up to got more bloody, that name was used less and less.

Fiona always slept as a cougar, because her furry bulk was the best thing to keep him warm in their drafty flat, but she usually changed before they even got out of bed. Big cats might be good for keeping little boys with dicky lungs, but they weren’t so good for navigating the tight space of the Rogers’s home. She didn’t change this morning, however.

Steve sent her a frown, even as he sidestepped her to get to the table.

Aodhan, perched on a rickety wooden chair to Sarah’s left, watched the pair with his intelligent brown eyes.

“How’s my wee man?” Sarah asked when Steve had sat. Fiona came to rest next to him, her big head almost as high as his. “Any big plans for today?”

Steve blushed. “Bucky and I were gonna go to the park,” he answered. But they’d planned that ages ago, before Ma had gotten the days off. And they were really only going because Bucky had heard from Teddy Russo that Theresa and Dot Bianchi would be there with their older sister Valentina. Bucky was absolutely dizzy for just about every girl in the Bianchi family.

To be honest, Bucky was dizzy for all the girls. He was 14 this year, and apparently, his Uncle Isaac had told Bucky that that was the age that “everything started to make sense” with girls. Whatever in the Sam-Hell that meant.

“We don’t have to, though,” Steve said. And he meant it. Spending a few hours watching Bucky watching dames didn’t sound like any fun, and it was his birthday, so if he told Bucky he wanted to do something else he wouldn’t be sore at him. “Bucky could just bring the girls over and we could play games or something.”

Even if Steve didn’t think spending his 13th birthday with Bucky’s little sisters was the best way to celebrate he wouldn’t want to exclude them. Bucky hated dragging Becca and Judy and Rachel along when they went places, but Steve thought the girls were just swell. He’d never had a sister or a brother, and never would most likely, so the novelty was nice.

Steve’s Ma just smiled. “No, no. You and Bucky should go. Bein’ thirteen is important, a leanbh . Before we know it you’ll be old and won’t get to spend all your time with Bucky Barnes.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Bucky and me’ll always spend time together, Ma,” he promised. “We’re friends forever.”

What was meant to be a reassurance, however, seemed to kill his Ma’s grin. She sent him a soft, sad look before tucking into breakfast. “I hope so, Stiofán. But don’t think you won’t get old.”

“I’m only thirteen, Ma!” Steve protested. Fiona leaned her head against his side sympathetically, and the weight of her sent him listing to the side for a moment.

“Fi, stoppit!” he giggled. “Why’re you so big?”

Fiona, looking contrite, seemed to shiver in her skin like she always did when she was trying to change shape. But instead of bursting into the air as a pigeon, or scurrying up his arm as a squirrel, she remained solidly feline and solidly big. Steve frowned, tipping his head forward to peer at her.

Aodhan and Ma both laughed. Steve turned a sharp, worried look to his mother.

“What?” he asked. Turning back, he said, “Fi, what’s goin’ on?”

“Oh, a leanbh ,” Ma breathed. “What did I say?”

Fiona giggled. “I can’t! Stevie!”

It took Steve a bit too long to understand the situation, but when he did he turned an incredulous stare on Fiona. “You settled so big ,” he laughed.

“Bit inconvenient,” Aodhan muttered behind his shaggy russet mustache, but he was grinning his doggy grin, as overjoyed as Sarah was.

“The size of a daemon doesn’t depend on the size of the person,” Ma reminded him. Steve knew that. He knew that Mr. Tonks, hulking as he was, had a little rabbit daemon, and everyone in the world knew that Marlene Dietrich’s daemon was a honking big bear, something the newspapers always thought was real funny.

“Boys at school are gonna have a field day,” Steve told her anyway. Nobody but Bucky seemed to understand why Steve walked around with a mountain lion for a daemon most of the time. Now that she’d settled, he could just imagine how they’d tease.

“The boys at school are silly little idiots,” Aodhan grumbled.

That sent Fiona and Steve into a fit of giggles that carried them through breakfast.

***

He’d been right about the boys at school.

When words got around that Steve’s daemon had settled, Tommy Wies came over to him at lunch as asked him if he thought it was funny that his daemon was four times the size of him.

Miriam, lounging at Bucky’s feet as a german shepherd, snarled at him, and Tommy laughed it off but he didn’t say another word to Steve all day. Unfortunately, Bucky couldn’t be around forever, and after last period, when Steve was gathering his papers from arithmetic, Bobby and Tony Gottardo ambled over.

The three of them exchanged some words, and it all ended with Bucky finding Steve getting his lights knocked out of him in front of the school. Fiona was snapping and yowling at the Gottardo’s daemons, and Bucky had to wade in and break the fight up with a solid-looking kick to Tony’s keister.

“God, some of these eye-talians really are dumb,” Bucky huffed after the boys had beat feet down the sidewalk. “How many times I gotta lay them out flat before they leave well enough alone?”

Steve sent Bucky a dark look. “You didn’t lay anyone out, Buck. Tony and Bobby are just babies.”

Bucky scoffed. “Maybe not that time, but last time, I made Bobby bleed so bad I just about called a doctor so’s I didn’t have to go on the lam.”

Fiona snorted. “You did no such thing,” she told him imperiously.

Miriam perked up. “If you asked Bobby, he just about got murdered in that fight.”

The four of them ambled their way back home, About halfway to Bucky’s flat, where they were stashing their school stuff and cleaning up before heading over to the park-Steve couldn’t very well go home now, not with a bloody nose-Miriam turned to Steve and Fiona and eyed them.

“What’s it like?” she asked.

It was crystal what she was asking. Miriam, even though Bucky was a year older, still hadn’t settled.

Fiona shrugged her big furry shoulders. “Boring, but nice. Feels right, like a pair of shoes that I’ve had few ages, so they fit real good. But I think I’ll miss flying.”

“Shoulda settled as a big bird,” Bucky laughed. “A bald eagle, or something. Or a hawk, to go with that big nose.”

Steve shoved at Bucky playfully. “Well, then Miriam should settle as a pig, to go with your nose.”

Bucky, vainer than Steve by a mile, reeled back, patting at his nose like he was checking that it was still as perfect as ever. He scowled when that sent Steve laughing.

“Fi shoulda been an elephant, to match your ears!”

“Miriam could settle as a beaver so you could have matching buck teeth,” Steve shot back, still laughing.

Bucky huffed, but Steve knew he wasn’t that sore.

They spent the rest of the walk joking and fooling around, and when they barrelled into the Barnes flat, Bucky had Steve under his arm, mussing up his hair with his knuckles.

Mrs. Barnes started fussing as soon as she saw Steve’s face, but luckily she didn’t threaten to tell his Ma, trusting that Steve wouldn’t hide it from her. She did make him sit at the dining room table, though, and allow her to clean him up a little. She didn’t have his Ma’s practice at nursing, but she’d raised Bucky, and the frequency with which her son was being pulled into scraps meant she was no slouch. Amos chittered the entire time, scolding them all for fighting just like he always did. The boys and their daemons ignored him, as they always did.

“The only thing I have to give you for your birthday is some advice, Steven,” Mrs. Barnes said lightly. “Stay out of trouble!”

Steve offered her a beatific smile, the smile he offered to teachers and shopkeepers and Mrs. Barnes whenever he was trying to pretend he wasn’t an absolute scoundrel. It drove Bucky up the walls; he called it his saintly smirk. “I try, Mrs. Barnes. Trouble just always seems to find me!”

Mrs. Barnes and Amos hmmphed in unison, and Bucky snorted.

“Bucky, I expect you back home in time for supper. It might be Steven’s birthday, but you still have school tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma,” Bucky and Steve chorused. She scowled and shooed them out of the house.

Steve shook his head. “She didn’t even notice Fiona’s settled,” he scoffed. “Guess Steve Rogers walking around with a puma for a daemon is just common sense to her.”

“Sure it is, pal,” Bucky drawled easily. “You may be short, but you’re just about the loudest guy I know. You’re bigger inside than out, is all. You ain’t no mouse.”

“What do you think you’ll settle as?” Fiona asked Miriam, who’d taken Fiona’s new size as an opportunity to be lazy, and shifted into a strange little lizard, riding on her back. She had the air of a haughty little queen that way, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at the smug little lizard smile she was sporting.

Miriam was quiet for a moment as she and Bucky shared a thoughtful look.

“A dog, probably,” Bucky answered first. “Most folks have dog daemons.”

Fiona shook her head. “You’re not most.”

Steve blushed a little at that. Bucky wasn’t most folks. Bucky was brave and handsome and kind and strong. Bucky talked a big game about how Steve was bigger on the inside, but honestly, Steve thought Bucky’s beautiful outside matched his insides. It was no wonder that all the girls at school had started taking real long looks at Steve’s best friend. There was something about the air around Bucky when he got real excited about a new song. When he laughed it was like his whole face opened up and you could see the damn sun shining out his eyes.

Miriam would settle as something even grander than a mountain lion. She’d be a real noble bird, maybe, because of Bucky’s sharp eyes, or a peacock cause of how nice his face was. Or maybe a wolf, like James Connolly had had.

“A horse, maybe,” Miriam said.

It was funny, because Steve couldn’t see that at all. Miriam had never been a horse in her life. Hell, none of them had ever seen a horse in their lives. But Steve was picturing Bucky astride a huge destrier, dressed like a knight, and it made him laugh so hard he almost gave himself an asthma attack. “You are a real horse’s ass,” he gasped.

“Maybe I’ll be something real strange,” Bucky said, and he was still smiling, but it looked pained. “Something odd, that’ll scare off anyone tryin’ to give us a hard time.”

Miriam shivered, shifting rapidly. She was a spider first, fearsome and black, before she draped over Fiona’s back as a big brown snake. It was followed by a strange hairless cat, a blind and eerie bat. Finally, Miriam clambered to Fiona’s rump, a brown little thing with huge, luminous golden eyes. Her small triangle ears sat at the sides of her head like horns, and a long tail that curled over her chest.

Steve blinked. “What are you?” he asked. Miriam only stared up at him.

“So one in a book of daemons once. Like a monkey, sorta. Strange, right?” Bucky murmured.

“She’s beautiful, Buck,” Steve assured him. “Very beautiful.”

Bucky shrugged and picked up his pace like he was eager to see the Bianchi sisters. Like the discussion was unimportant.

Steve felt distinctly that he’d missed something in the exchange, and Bucky was disappointed in him.

#steve rogers #stucky #steve/bucky #daemons #daemon au #my fic

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lauwrite1225 · 3 years

Text

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria’s life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : On ao3 I've got a comment telling me the slow burn was killing them, well... I hope this is killing yall too lmaooo

Warnings : fluff ;)

Chapter 8 : And I'm ready to suffer, and I'm ready to hope

Victoria has never found a more peaceful place than Osferth’s house before, it’s so far from London’s constant noise. Here the night is silent, occasionally interrupted by sounds of animals, which she sometimes finds scary enough to wake up Finan who’s sleeping on the mattress next to her bed in the living room. He usually answers her what wild animal is howling, enhanced with Irish curses as he tries to fall back to sleep.

“Ya’re goin’ to know the sound of all the animals of this forest soon.” He comments one morning when she sits in front of him at the kitchen table.

She chuckles quite uncomfortably, guessing he’s starting to be annoyed of being woken up in the middle of the night. “I’m a city girl.” She shrugs innocently and Finan shakes his head.

Even if he’s grieving his friend’s loss, Finan keeps a rather good mood, which she supposes is due to Osferth. She regularly finds them laughing together, undoubtedly remembering old memories, which warms Victoria’s heart. She also gets to learn a lot about the monk who reveals to in fact be King Alfred the Great’s bastard son.

“So you’re royalty!” She exclaims, her fork falling back into her plate.

“Not really.” He answers, looking down as he is ashamed of who he is while Finan is chuckling at her shock.

“But, if you were a monk and a King’s son, how did you end up fighting for Uhtred?” She asked, the same curiosity she used to have for Finan growing for him.

“My uncle used to fight alongside Uhtred.” He explains, his forks forming circles in the air. “I wanted to become a warrior like him.”

“And let me tell ya, that was a hard row to hoe.” He jokes at Vicky’s attention, pointing at Osferth who’s now pouting. “I've never imagined t'was so hard to hold a sword.” He giggles before taking a mouth full of vegetables while the monk blushes. “But we finally succeeded to make a good warrior of him after all.”

This time, the two men look at each other with pride, a small knowing smile gracing their faces.

“I'd like to learn.” Vicky interrupts them suddenly.

“What? To use a sword?” Finan frowns at her. “It's a little useless nowadays.”

She rolls her eyes which only makes him smirk as he eats. “I'd like to learn whatever could help me to defend myself.” She explains with such determination that even Finan stops smirking to stare at her intently. “I don't want to be as useless as in London if something happens to us.”

She straightens her shoulder while holding Finan’s gaze, feeling the need to show him that she can be stronger than she looks. She thought of it a few times during the night, not dying is one thing but it still isn’t preventing her to be taken, Finan wouldn’t have been here that night, she’s sure she wouldn’t be standing here right now. And she even less wants to be a liability to the two men if anything has to happen.

She notices the flicker of hesitance on Finan’s face at the way the corner of his mouth tilts. “Please, Finan.” She insists and he finally sighs, lifting his head to the ceiling.

“Alright I’ll teach ya.” He accepts, starting to eat again and only staring at her broad smile from the corner of his eyes. “But don’t imagine I’ll be easy on ya.” He warns her but she’s too happy to take in the warning and doesn’t even notice Osferth’s grimace at it.

However, she soon learns that she should have taken it seriously. Vicky had a lot of sport teachers during school, more or less rigorous, but undoubtedly, none were matching Finan. He is very patient, able to show her movement a hundred times without getting annoyed, though, the lesson won’t end until she does it perfectly. He teaches her how to punch and kick correctly for a whole afternoon, her legs and arms aching at the end. She’s so exhausted that she doesn’t even wake up during the night because of animals and Finan is more than happy to finally have his sleep undisturbed.

The next morning, after her training, Sophie comes to Osferth's place and gives a worried look to Vicky as she finds her sprawled, arms crossed and forehead resting on it. “Are you alright?” She asks, putting her hand on her back and then grimacing when she realizes she’s all sweaty.

“Finan killed me.” She grumbles, her voice muffled by the caged formed by her arms. She finally straightens, stretching to try to make the discomfort of her painful muscles disappear. “I asked him to teach me how to fight, and I’m starting to regret it.”

Sophie laughs, sitting on the chair next to hers. “Osferth told me he was a ruthless teacher.” She explains to her and Vicky sighs in despair.

Since they are here, Sophie comes everyday, and even stays some nights, erasing any of Victoria’s doubts about their relationship. She doesn't know the French well, but she does appreciate her already, another woman's ear always likeable.

“I found something that could interest you.” Sophie says, taking her phone out of her pocket and opening an application before handing it to her.

Vicky grabs it carefully and lets out a short breath at the newspaper article she's showing her. She reads the text surrounding the picture of her explaining where the police stand regarding her disappearance. She can't tell if it relieves her or not that they are clueless about it. Which for sure disappoints her is that they are as clueledd as them when it comes to the men who attacked them. She doesn't raise her eyes when she hears the front door opening nor when footsteps approach. She only looks away when she feels Finan's breath near her ear making her shiver as he leans over her shoulder, his hands clenched around the chair's back.

“What's that?” He asks, meeting her eyes briefly before staring at the screen.

She swallows and hands him the phone so he can read. “A record on what happened in London.” She explains as he straightens. “They don't know more than us.”

“Good.” He says, scrolling down the article and when he looks up from the phone, he is facing Vicky’s confused frown.

“But we could have learned more about their intentions.”

Finan shakes his head, giving her phone back to Sophie. “And by this, they’d get interest in us and it is the last thin’ we need.”

Vicky leans back in her chair. “Alright, but how do we get to know who they are and what they really want? Even if we hide, we are exposed because we don’t know our enemies.” She voices a relevant fact that even Osferth agrees with as he walks into the room, stopping to rest a hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “We need to do research about them.”

“With what?” The Irishman huffs. “All we have is a piece of paper and a revolver.”

Feeling the tension rising between Victoria and Finan, the French clears her throat. “Maybe, there was something that could be…” She searches a word, gesturing in the void. “Particular. An accent maybe?”

“They didn’t talk a lot but they were sounding English.” She answers leaving Finan’s eyes to give all her attention to Sophie.

Finan does the same, crossing his arms. “They were fine trained men, if there’s more, it must be the case for them too.” He exchanges a serious gaze with Osferth, a silent conversation working between the two men. “We should arm ourselves, just in case.”

This time, it’s the two women who exchange an anxious glance. “I still have guns in the basement, a little old and in need of a good cleaning, but it’s better than nothing.”

On those words, the two old friends decide to spend the afternoon on restoring Osferth’s weapons. Victoria stares with wide eyes at the amount of them resting on the kitchen table, dusty revolvers and rifles. Sophie left earlier with a list of materiel to clean them and Victoria supposes they won’t have finished until nightfall at least. Her eyes instinctevely search for Finan, which she has realised doing more and more often, in the room and finally turns to the monk when she understands he isn’t here. He answers her that he is still in the basement, so she decides to join him, though she’s also curious to see what there is in it. She climbs down the ladder and jumps on the stoned floor. There isn’t much light, a simple old oil lamp allowing her to see Finan who’s staring intently at a sword he is holding. Vicky approaches him and can’t help but let out a sound of amazement as she admires the weapon, the flicker of the flame making the blade shine and a piece of amber ornamenting the hilt.

“It’s a beautiful sword.” She says looking up to the Irishman whose eyes are glittering under the light. “Finan?” She calls him softly, her hands finding his arm.

He blinks a few times and the tears have disappeared to let him smile. “It’s Uhtred’s sword, Serpent-Breath. I’ve never seen a better sword.” He explains with admiration.

He hands her the sword and she takes it carefully, surprised by the heaviness of it, wondering how it was possible to fight with this. But she must admit that it really is the result of a fine work, the blade, old and not as sharp as it must have been, but nonetheless impressive.

“You have a sword too?” She turns to him again.

“Aye, but I’ve lost it a long time ago.” He shrugs sadly.

She gives him back the weapon and lets him hang it on the wall. “What did you call it?”

He chuckles lightly before smiling broadly. “Soul-stealer.” He answers with a threatening tone but it only makes her raise her eyebrows as if she isn’t impressed at all.

“Terrifying.” She breaths, pretending to be scared.

“Ya know, men used to call me Finan the Agile because I was a really good swordsman.” He explains, heading back to the ladder.

“Oh? And what about women?” She asks him with a teasing tone that definitely should have been thought about twice. She can’t help the rise of blush to increase as he just winks at her with a mischievous smirk before climbing up.

She curses herself for the sudden warmth in her belly as she wonders what his gesture implied. She shakes her head to make it vanish. When Sophie is finally back, they start restoring the guns, Osferth showing her how to clean a barrel correctly. She can’t help but wonder how many people have been killed with this gun as she holds one. It seems so easy to pull the trigger, in a second one is ripped of its life. She thinks back to the fight in her flat, at how Finan cold bloodedly killed the three men. Will she become like this as well if she learns how to use one? The question remains stuck in her mind until the night when Finan asks her what is troubling her. They are just the two of them in the living room as he sits next to her on the bed to remove his shoes.

She shifts uncomfortably, twisting her fingers. “What do you feel when you kill someone?”

Finan freezes at her question, still bent to unlace his shoes. “I feel bad.” He answers finally as he straightens.

“Each time?” She asks him with an inch of surprise that makes her tone higher. “Even when they are bad people?”

“No, it's not like that.” He turns his head to her and even in the dark she is fascinated by the intensity of his gaze. “The first man I killed was a Dane. I was still in Ireland, hunting with my father. He came out of a bush and I acted without thinkin'.” He scratches his beard before his hand slides down to grip what she supposes is the pendant hanging at his necklace. “No matter how many times I've heard people call them heathens or demons, when I saw his frightened eyes as life was leaving his body, I realised he was just a man. And I wondered who I was to take a man's life so easily.” His grip tightens, fisting his shirt as he sighs.

His hand drops on his thigh and he is close enough so his elbow brushes slightly against her arm. He looks down as if he is suddenly ashamed or scared of what she'll think of him and it makes her heart squeeze. In a little time, they both have reached a level of confidence with each other that Victoria didn't expect. Despite his lie, she finds herself unable to judge him. And it reassures her to know that after all he isn’t as insensitive as she thought. Her hand slides on his forearm until it reaches his wrist, her fingers tracing the swollen skin of a scar slashing his palm. Their proximity makes her face warm and she's glad that the darkness can hide it, so she leans to the side until her head rests on his shoulder.

“Why did you ask?” He whispers, his breath brushing her forehead.

She feels her heartbeat getting stronger and faster as she thinks of the right words.”When you fought that night, you did it without any hesitation. You just acted when I just stayed away utterly afraid. Now that I don’t want to be so useless anymore, I wonder if I’ll be able to act like you did, without thinking.”

“Ya don’t have to be like me.” He replies immediately, making her look up to him. “In fact, I’d prefer that ya weren’t.” He admits.

“But one day I will. One day I’ll have lost all the people I care for and I’ll have suffered as much as you did.” She says and the way her heart aches at the simple idea makes her throat tighter.

Finan shifts to better face her, his hands cupping her face and his thumb caressing her cheek even if there’s no tears to wet them. His eyes are staring at her with such softness despite how deep and dark they are, she feels like she could melt now and then.

“I’ll keep ya away from that.”

Her heart misses a beat and her breath runs short. She can’t argue with him about the foolishness of such a promise, destabilized by how close his face is to hers, and because deep down she wishes he could be able to protect her from the pain. Him and no one else. His hot breath caresses her lips, making her whole body feel warm and for a brief second, she wonders how it would feel to have his mouth pressed against hers, how his beard would scratch her flushed skin.

But before she can have an answer Finan moves away, breathing heavily. “I think we should sleep.”

She barely has time to breathe a small ‘yes’ that he is lying in his own bed. She does the same, her hand pressed against her chest as her heart finds a steady rhythm again. She stares at the ceiling for long minutes, feeling suddenly so empty and cold.

Tag : @for-bebbanburg @osferth @maggiescarborough @finansarms @dumbledoreisnotmyhubby @solinarimoon

#the last kingdom #finan #finan the agile #tlk #fanfiction #finanxoc #somebody to die for #tlk finan #tlk fanfiction

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earlysunsetsoverambrose · 4 years

Text

Operation Sweet Surprise (2/3)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader (Romantic or Platonic)

Warnings: Cursing

Inside the store, you began hunting down the items you needed with Lester in tow. He offered to hold the basket for you so you could focus on making sure you got exactly what you were after.

“Okay, Lester. We need: milk, pie crust, vanilla extract, cinnamon, brown sugar, baking powder, and eight apples. So, if you see anything and I don’t just toss it in the basket!” you told him as your eyes started scanning the shelves.

“Yes, ma’am!” Lester said with a playful salute.

One by one, you found each ingredient, checking them off your mental list as you went. Throughout your expedition, you couldn’t help but notice other shoppers keeping their distance from you two. Of course, you knew exactly why they were acting this way. The smell of roadkill lingering on Lester’s raggedy exterior offended their delicate senses. The way some made a show of holding their breath or how their side eyes were more like dead on stares was not lost on you. It certainly wasn’t lost on Lester. With every murmur and scoff, he would offer an apologetic smile and a wave, but you could see his head sink lower and lower each time. This sort of thing didn’t always bother him, but sometimes it was hard to ignore. People always assumed he was oblivious to how his presence affected them, but he was more than aware. Frankly, he wished they would quit reminding him. Though every part of you wanted to snap at each shopper that passed you by, you elected to focus on lifting Lester’s spirits to distract him,

“Alright, all that’s left is to pick out some apples! C’mon and help me out!” you said with the biggest smile you could muster. You’d rather be glaring daggers, but you knew the other shoppers were hardly worth it. You took Lester’s hand and pulled him toward the small produce section “Which kind of apples do you think Bo would like best?”

“Not sure…” Lester said looking back and forth, checking to make sure no one was staring again, “Maybe I oughta wait in the truck. Don’t wanna bother no one else from their shopping.”

“No, don’t go! I need you!” you begged, “Besides, who cares what they think?”

“Well, I’m used to it. Just don’t want ‘em thinkin’ bad of ya, is all.” He said shyly

“Oh, please, don’t worry about that. I like spending time with you, Lester. I don’t give a shit about any of them. Who needs them?” You said, waving off his concern with a laugh “Now, help me pick out some apples.” The smile reached Lester’s eyes this time as he helped you pick out the best apples out of the bunch.

Once you had your apples picked, something caught your glance over Lester’s shoulder. It was an elderly woman, reaching for a box of cereal that was clearly too high on the shelf for her to get. Lester followed your eyes and immediately handed the basket over to you. He quickly made his way over to the lady. You followed close behind, catching the interaction,

“I can get that for ya, if ya like.” Lester offered sweetly with his signature grin. The woman staggered back, affronted at his proximity. She put a hand over her nose and mouth, her sour expression still apparent. Though she scowled at him, Lester kept smiling back at her. When she remained silent, he pointed to the box he thought she wanted, “This one? Good choice! Ya know, I hear this one’s good for the heart. Supposed to keep ya young and spry.” She didn’t reply, tapping her foot impatiently. He pulled the box down from the shelf and held it out to her, “There ya go. Need help with anythin’ else?”

“No.” she said shortly, as she ripped the box from his hands and turned away.

“Alright…have a nice day, I guess.” Lester said, frustration showing through, “Just tryin’ to help ya.”

“Excuse me!” You piped in, “My friend just helped you, and I think you’re being incredibly rude to him.”

“Y/N, it’s alright-”

“No, it isn’t. You helped her and she treated you like garbage.” You said angrily. You were tired of watching people walk all over him. He might’ve been good enough to let it go, but you weren’t, “Who raised you? Didn’t anyone teach you anything about kindness?”

“How dare you speak to me like that? You should learn to respect your elders, young lady.” the old woman finally responded, “In my day, helping older folks was expected. Our generation didn’t need a pat on the back every time we did the bare minimum. What do you want? A reward?”

“Well, I grew up at least saying a ‘thank you’ when someone helped me. I don’t think that’s asking a lot. Just want you to treat my friend with a bit of decency.” You snapped, your knuckles turning white as you tightened your grip on your basket.

“Decency? I’ve shown plenty of decency by not demanding you both be thrown out of the store. I don’t usually tolerate uncivilized spoiled brats, like you two.” The woman stuck up her nose and pinched it, “You reek of squalor, so it seems to me you were the ones who are lacking an upbringing.”

“Uncivilized? Lady, you’re the one who doesn’t have any god damn manners! If anyone’s acting uncivilized here, it’s you!” you hissed venomously, taking a step toward the woman. Lester stopped you in your tracks, allowing the woman to turn and shamble away cursing you under her breath, both offended and threatened by you.

“Hey, hey, don’t pay any attention to her. She ain’t worth it.” Lester said, patting your shoulder.

“She shouldn’t be allowed to treat you like that.” You said still a bit heated.

“It’s like ya said, ‘Who needs ‘em?’” Lester said surprisingly relaxed about the whole situation, “But let’s get goin’ ‘fore she gets us kicked out like she said.”

You started toward the register and got in line. There were quite a few people ahead of you as everyone was out getting their groceries for the week, no doubt. Lester took the basket back as you waited together. You were about to ask him about cleaning animal bones to lighten the mood before he chimed in first,

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“For what?” you asked with a tilt of your head.

“Stickin’ up for me ‘n all. It sure was somethin’.” He said with a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks, “I know I don’t smell too great, so bein’ with me ain’t always fun. But ya never treat me any worse for it, and it means a lot.”

“Aw, Lester, you don’t have to thank me for that. I enjoy spending time with you, it’s hardly a chore.” You said as you rubbed his shoulder reassuringly.

“Still…I know I yammer on and I don’t know when to shut up. Most people can’t stand me, it ain’t a secret. Didn’t make too many friends growin’ up ‘cuz of it and it didn’t get any easier once I started workin’…” Lester explained, “I tried to keep the smell off, but it’s harder than it looks, ya know. And after a while, I figured if people don’t want anythin’ to do with me anyway, I might as well just leave it be.”

“Lester…” you said sympathetically, trying not to knock the basket out of his hands and wrap him up in a hug and protect him from the world.

“’Sides, I love my job. I really do. And if I smell, I can make like that’s the reason people don’t like me.” He added with a half-hearted laugh to take the edge off the truth of it all “Anyway, just wanted to thank ya for bein’ nice to me.”

Before you could respond, it was your turn to check out. Lester instantly starting chatting away with the cashier, going on about knives and the small items for sale at the register. You smiled to yourself, watching him. Even if others continued to put him down, Lester always got right back to it. You had no idea how he kept going sometimes. You attention was drawn away from him as the total came up on the screen.

“Shit.” You cursed quietly to yourself. You counted your money back, hoping maybe you had more than you thought, to no avail. You were five dollars short. You looked over your items trying decide what you could part with. All of them were necessary to the recipe so you not only could you not decide, you were embarrassed that you had underestimated how much you’d need to spend.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Lester whispered as he leaned in, also looking at the groceries, “Missin’ somethin’?”

“I don’t have enough…” you trailed off, trying to work through a solution in the next two minutes, trying not to keep others waiting whilst also not drawing attention to your crisis

“Apples?” Lester suggested, “I’ll run on back and get some more, if ya need!”

“Money…I don’t have enough for everything.” You said, unable to stop your voice from shaking from the sudden tears that brimmed in your eyes. Lester snapped to attention at the tremble in your voice.

“Aw, please don’t cry! How much do ya need?” he asked as he scrambled to comfort you. He rubbed awkward circles into your back, moving you back and forth with his clumsy motions. Even in distress, you found his gesture to be sweet.

“Five dollars.” You confessed as your face went hot with anxiety.

“That ain’t so bad! I got it!” Lester said happily, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a crumpled bill. He might have said it like wasn’t a big deal, but you knew money was always tight for the Sinclairs. While Lester did make the most steady income out of all of them, he didn’t have a whole lot of money to throw around, “See, don’t need to panic!”

“You don’t have to do this! You work hard for your money, I can ditch something, I think. Don’t waste it on me.” You said in a panic. You’d already asked so much of him already; you couldn’t let him do this too.

“Well, I do work hard. So, I suppose that means I can spend my money how I want.” Lester said cheekily. He gathered up your money with his and handed it over, “And I wanna give it to ya. ‘Sides, I oughta pitch somethin’ in. It’s for my brothers after all.”

“Thank you, Lester…I really owe you.” you said as your apprehension drained from your posture and voice. You almost cried from his generosity, rather than humiliation.

“Ain’t nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” Lester said sweetly, nudging your shoulder to help you shake off the sadness that had almost overtaken you. He carried your groceries toward the door and back to the truck, “C’mon we gotta lotta bakin’ to do!”

You were a bit distracted on the ride back. Lester was chattering on about skulls again, but your mind wandered back to what he said while you waited in line. You wouldn’t say you’d done anything extraordinary for him. All you did was talk to him and treat him like any human should be treated. Still, that was more than he’d ever received from anyone. You couldn’t help but stare at him. Beside you was a man who has always been treated like he wasn’t worth the time. No one cared about what he had to say or how he felt, and they told him so to his face. Despite all that, he still turned out to be incredibly generous, kind, helpful, and by far the most warmhearted person you knew.

And it wasn’t because the insults and the neglect went over his head. You knew he felt the sting of it all. It was because he kept moving along. You had no idea how he was able to let it all roll off his back, but you simply attributed it to Lester being remarkable. Sure, he got disappointed when others didn’t want to talk to him, but he never got too hung up on it for long. He was always able to find joy in other parts of his life. Not only that, he was capable of sharing that joy with others; at least, he was always willing. Lester had a heart of gold and it left a bitter taste knowing that if life had been fairer – or society more kind – he’d might have become something truly special. Not that you didn’t like him just as he was; you thought he was wonderful. It was just such a shame that he had so many wonderful things to offer and you were the only one who could see that. All because his chances were spoiled before he ever really got to living.

“Do you ever get mad, Lester?” you asked, accidentally cutting him off from his rant about knives.

“Sure, I do. Sometimes.” Lester said with a goofy grin still pulling as his face. His smile turned into curiosity and a bit of confusion as he thought over your question a second time, “Wait, mad ‘bout what?”

“I don’t know. Do you ever wish things were different?”

“Different how?”

“Like, do you ever think about what it might’ve been like if you were born somewhere else or into a different life entirely? Like all the what ifs and maybes? Just for fun?” you added

“Hmmm…” Lester thought out loud, “Nope.”

“Really? Never?” you asked in disbelief.

“Naw, I like what I got.” He said smiling once again, never more content, “And ‘sides, I got you now. Wouldn’t know ya if I was born someplace else. Don’t wanna go riskin’ that, do I?” you felt your heart skip a beat and blood rush to your cheeks.

“And they say Bo’s the one with all the charm.” You mumbled to yourself, catching a glimpse of Lester, oblivious and carefree as ever. He really had no clue how incredible he was.

#lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #my writing #operation sweet surprise #tw: cursing #female reader

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