#so far I have eventually managed to cough it out the way again but not before feeling like I am going to fucking die
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my body keeps trying to suffocate me and I have no idea what to do about this. like, I could try and ask my neighbor for some help but I'm coughing a bunch anyway so idk how she'd be able to identify when I'm actually suffocating (not like I can scream) nor do I have a clue what she'd be able to do about it even if she could
#tmi:#I apparently have some bunch of phlegm that's stuck in exactly the wrong position#so occasionally if I take a sharp breath or cough or blow my nose it just. seals my damn airways#this has happened at least 4 times now#so far I have eventually managed to cough it out the way again but not before feeling like I am going to fucking die#seems very very easy for that to just. not succeed. once. especially coz it's like. really fucking sticky#I do not want to die from choking on my own phlegm. idk what to do :/#m#whining
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Love is
Yeji x Reader
CW: Angst, self-harm, suicide, death
Word count: 1100
Synopsis: Love is imperfect, love is beautiful, love is crazy, love is nothing you think it would be.
Yeji entered the apartment quietly, peeking in at the entrance first to see if you were there or not before making her way inside looking for you. It was unusually quiet and Yeji looked around and then found you in the bedroom….sitting down against floor and was about to greet you when she noticed the pool of blood around you and she froze, staring in shock for a couple seconds before she rushed to you, grabbing your and looking at them in horror as blood endlessly seemed to spill from your wrists.
“I am sorry….”, you say weakly, feeling guilty, feeling scared.
“Where-”, she said getting up quickly and searching through your drawers to find Band-Aids, gauze, anything to slow down the bleeding but her search was futile and she couldn’t find anything of the sort so she just slammed open your wardrobe, grabbing a couple shirts and wiping your hands clean and tying them tightly on your arms, trying to think of other ways to help.
“I don’t think this is going to do anything”, you say unhelpfully, feeling very weak from losing so much blood.
“Shut up!”, she yells, tears welling up in her eyes as she begins to panic, frantically takes out her phone and calls for an ambulance.
You look up to her, tears falls from your eyes too as you realize for this is not what you wanted, and you felt so scared. You didn’t want to hurt her, you wanted to- your thoughts interrupted as a wave of dizziness hits you and you take deep breaths, tilting over a little suddenly feeling extremely lightheaded.
Yeji rushes over to you, shaking in fear, “No, don’t, stay awake, they are coming. Please just a little more time. Stay awake.”, she pleaded urgently, patting your cheek, and shaking your shoulders. She takes a look at your arms again, the shirts are already soaked in blood.
“Why did you do it”, Yeji asks, the pain in her voice so obvious and you hate yourself for making her feel that way.
You look away from her in shame, “It just felt too like it was too much, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’m sorry, I-”, you stop when she turns your head gently, so you face her again.
“You are stupid, so stupid. Why didn’t you ever say anything. Every time I asked you lied”, she said sadly, her lips trembling. “I am not going to leave your side ever again. I am going to be with you forever. I love you. You know that right. I love you”, she manages to confess, you can see just how scared she is but she is still being so brave.
This was such a huge mistake you admit to yourself, you should have just told her how you felt. You had so many chances. You think about all the times you spent with her, how she first met you as a customer of the café you worked at. Then she became a regular and eventually she revealed that she was actually an idol. You were so shocked at the time you could almost smile right now. The time you both ran into each other at a park, you were jogging while she just wanted to relax and that’s when your friendship really blossomed. That one time where she was so drunk she could barely make it back to her hotel room and then she begged you to not leave in her drunken state before passing out on your lap. You wish you could go back to those times. The last year and a half with Yeji kept you going for far longer than you thought you could. You would even settle going back a minutes just so you can spend a few moments more with Yeji. But even now as you feel yourself slipping away, you couldn’t muster your courage or confess your feelings to her. What a coward you are…
“Y/N…? What are you thinking about?”, Yeji asks, worried at your few moments of silence.
You heave a deep breath, it takes so much effort to breath now, so much effort to just stay awake, “I…think”, you say in a raspy voice, “my life’s flashing before my eyes”, you cough, and it hurts.
“Don’t say that…” Yeji says through tears, “You are just thinking about things, I’ll get you some water. It’ll clear your head for a bit”, She gets up trembling and hurries to the kitchen coming back with a glass of water. Her heart wrenches in pain when she sees your expression, “Y/N, here”, she says putting the glass near your mouth. You don’t respond, you continue staring straight ahead, expressionless.
“Y/n..y/n..no, y/n please, wake up wake up. Please, just a few seconds more PLEASE!”, Yeji desperately pleaded shaking you as she began to hear the siren of an ambulance in the distance.
There was no response except for your body slumping to the side a little from her pushing.
Yeji leaned against the wall, her wails of pain echoing in the room as she was having to face the fact that she lost you. She sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, her heart heavy with dread and guilt. She couldn’t let go of you, she held your body tightly, praying with all her heart that you would come back. The EMTs had to force her off you while she screamed and thrashed, crying uncontrollably the whole time. They confirmed her worst fears immediately, that you had just lost too much blood. They couldn’t even make her leave the room, Yeji just kept sobbing and muttering all her regrets, all the things she would have done to help you even a little more. It took over an hour for Yeji to stop crying, she had cried herself to sleep, she was too fatigued from all the stress, trauma and crying.
When she woke up in the hospital, she was confused and looked around for you immediately before the realization hit her and she began to weep again. She felt so much pain, why did you have to go, why did you not trust her enough, why did you not love her enough, her thoughts haunting her. Why is love so brutal, why is it so unforgiving, why is it so imperfect.
‘I am so sorry Y/N I couldn’t be there for you’, Yeji thought to herself, hoping somehow you can hear her as she made her way up, ‘I won’t make this mistake again. I won’t leave you alone anymore’, she told herself as she dragged herself onto the roof, climbing the parapet wall, she could hear people shouting in the back, climbing the stairs behind her, the shouts seemed to be directed at her, but she didn’t pay them attention, she instead focused on the horizon, the sun was rising, the city looked to come to life, it looked nice. Through a shaky breath, she smiled one last time, promising you that she’s wont leave you alone this time before leaning forward and letting herself go…
#angst april#ask me anything#answered asks#kpop gg#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#reader x idol#itzy angst#itzy yeji#hwang yeji#yeji x reader#itzy scenarios#itzy
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Brave - Part Two
Note - thank you for the feedback on part one l, here’s part two and I’m sorry it’s a day late 😭 but enjoy and I’d love to know what you think 🩷 part one can be found here
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 6.2K
Warnings - fluff and smut
Life with mason was a dream.
You’d been living with him now for five months in total, two and a half months on from the day you kissed on his sofa and you never thought you’d been happier. You hadn’t given life before you moved in a second thought, now free from everything in your past. Especially now with your divorce proceedings nearing the end of the line. Eric thankfully hadn’t put up a fight or made things difficult, knowing how difficult you could make things if he tried, and any communication was through your solicitors meaning you’d never have to speak to him again.
With a few white lies from Mason, you managed to land yourself a part time job in London. The office you worked in was super friendly and you’d already made fast friends with one of the girls on your team. That tiny bit of independence turned your world around and you loved feeling like a normal human doing normal human things after so long.
You carried on living with Mason, seeing no reason to try and move out when you’d no doubt end up back there, but you kept all your stuff in his guest room, eventually it becoming your room should you ever need a time out from Masons antics. Those times however were few and far between but it was nice to have that space just for yourself.
Mason was the most supportive and loving man you’d ever come across. Checking in on you frequently and always making you smile. You cherished the life you were building together and seemed to be on the same page about everything.
Well all but one thing.
To say you were on two different pages may not best description, but you still hadn’t crossed a certain line with each other. You’d had plenty of heated make out sessions that could have led to more, but things were always stopped before you got too far. You knew Mason was more than ready for that part of your relationship to develop but you still couldn’t quite push yourself to get there.
You weren’t really sure why, Mason made you feel more loved than you ever had and you trusted him with everything but you panicked you wouldn’t be enough for him. He’d never made you feel that way, never putting an ounce of pressure on you, constantly telling you he’s ready to wait for as long as you needed but the insecurities from you past kept rearing their ugly head. If he wasn’t getting what he needed from you then he could quite easily get it from somewhere else was what your mind told you, but you knew deep down he would ever do that to you.
It wasn’t like you didn’t want him in that way, in fact that’s all you’d been thinking about lately. He didn’t make it easy for you, waltzing around with so much skin on show you were unsure of where to look, sleeping next to him every night with his skin stuck to yours and his hands stroking over your waist. He turned you into a puddle so easily and you constantly caught yourself thinking about the way his mouth would feel on different parts of your body, or how he would sound moaning in your ear.
You were sat in work on Thursday, the last day of your working week and the image of Mason kissing down your body filled your head. You didn’t snap out of it until you heard your name being called.
‘Hello? Earth to y/n?’ Hannah laughed and you shook your head as if to shake the thoughts away.
‘Crap, sorry. Is everything alright?’
‘I could ask you the same thing, you’ve been in a world of your own for ten minutes. Are you blushing?’ She asked, calling you out and you were about to deny it but you could feel the heat all over your body.
‘I’m fine, just thinking’ you coughed, and began to pack up your things, realising it was the end of the day.
‘I know that look girl, you’ve got the horn just admit it’ she winked at you whilst you groaned and hid your face. ‘Just tell your man you need to get you some, I’m sure he’ll be happy to oblige’
‘I wish it was that easy’ you murmured, hoping she wouldn’t hear, but she most definitely did.
‘Is everything okay?’ She asked, a look of concern on her face. ‘Do you wanna talk about anything? We could go grab some dinner and have a chat? Would give me an excuse not to go home to that horrid room mate of mine’ she offered and you laughed, reaching for your phone.
‘Just let me check Masons not started any dinner and I’ll let you know’
She nodded, telling you she’d meet you by the door and you quickly pressed masons name in your contacts. He picked up on the second ring, concern flooding his voice as you never call him at this time.
‘Hey baby, are you alright?’
‘Hey Mase, yeah everything’s fine. Hannah’s asked if I wanted to grab dinner with her but I just wanted to check it was alright?’
‘Of course it’s alright you muppet’ he laughed, making you smile a little bit too. ‘You don’t need permission from me y/n’
‘I know’ you murmured, it was an old habit that you were finding it hard kick since being with Eric. ‘sorry I just wanted to check you hadn’t started dinner or anything’
‘Nah I’ve been a bit lazy since I got in. I still need to pack my bag for tomorrow’
‘Oh I forgot you’re going away tomorrow’ you breathed, rubbing your temple as you thought of what to say to Hannah. ‘I’m so sorry Mase it slipped my mind. I’ll have dinner with Hannah another night’
‘Don’t be silly. I want you to go out and have fun. If you’re home you’ll probably just distract me even more’ he laughed, trying to relax you a bit.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive. Don’t worry love, just message when when you’re on the way home and I’ll come pick you up from the station yeah?’
‘You don’t have to-’ you started but he cut you off before you finished your sentence.
‘Yes I do, can’t have the love of my life walking home alone in the dark can I?’ He joked, trying to brush it off but you couldn’t be more grateful for him. A warm feeling growing in your chest at his words.
‘I guess not’ you chuckled and you heard him laugh down the phone. ‘I won’t be too late’
‘Take as long as like, and have a nice time yeah. Love you’
‘Love you too Mase’ you replied and you heard him making kissy noises down the phone before you hung up. You went in search of Hannah at the door and she looked back at you with hopeful eyes.
‘Right, where are you taking me?’ you asked her, and she squealed before grabbing your arm and leading you down the road to one of her favourite Italian restaurants. You were thankfully out of the way of lots of other people so you could talk freely and after two glasses of wine she was ready to pick your brains.
After a very brief run down of what happened with your ex, you went on to explain that you were finding it hard to be confident enough in the bedroom to go very far.
‘Well first of all, from what you’ve said Mason sounds like a gem and as long as he’s not putting any pressure on you to do anything then I wouldn’t worry about him. I think this sounds like something you need to work on’ she told you and you nodded along with her in agreement.
‘Oh I know, honestly he makes me feel so loved and sexy but I just can’t seem to make myself feel it? All I can think about is what if I’m rubbish and she doesn’t want to be with me anymore?’
She pouted at you in sympathy before downing the rest of her glass and filling it back up. ‘First of all, I’m sure you’re not rubbish. You’re just lacking in confidence that’s all. That’s all sex is really is being comfortable and confident enough to be a bit vulnerable with someone. What can we do to make you feel a bit sexier? You need a little something to get you in the mood? I have a few links I could send you’ She winked and it took you a second to realise what she was talking about.
‘I’ll think about it’ you giggled, the wine making you feel giddy and loose as you both thought of ways to get you feeling yourself a bit more.
‘What about some sexy underwear?’ She exclaimed, louder than you anticipated and a few of the tables turned to look at you. You both were sent into a fit of giggles and once you’d both calmed down she looked at you a bit more seriously. ‘I’m serious think about it, you’ll look bomb as fuck, it’ll give you that little confidence boost you need and the boy will eat you up. It’s a win win’
‘You know what, I think you might be on to something’ you winked, liking this idea of hers and giving you an excuse to shop. After a one more glass of wine you both made your way to the train station and you made sure to text Mason that you were on your way. Hannah got off three stops earlier than you, leaving you the last 15 minutes on the train alone in your drunken state, but soon enough you were opening the door to Masons car and trying not to fall over as you got in.
‘Hello baby’ you beamed, leaning over to give him a quick kiss and he caught on to your mood immediately.
‘Hello’ he laughed, taking the seatbelt from your hand and plugging you in as you were having trouble. ‘Looks like someone’s had a good night’
‘The best’
‘Good’ he replied, planting a quick kiss on your nose before starting the engine. ‘Now let’s get you home’
The drive wasn’t that far, and as soon as you were home he sent you up for a shower whilst he found you some painkillers and two bottles of water. He came upstairs to find you in a pair of shorts, struggling to get your head through the hole in your top, and you heard him laugh as he saw you.
‘Don’t Mase, I can’t figure it out’ you told him, and he could hear the pout in voice. You felt him tug at the top, moving it around a bit before your head popped through. He brushed your hair from out of your face, kissing you softly when you sent him an appreciative yet tipsy smile.
‘Next time, try putting your head through the neck rather than the arm hole, you might have more luck’ he teased pulling you over to the bed and sitting you on the side. ‘Here, these are for you’ he told you whilst passing you the painkillers and one bottle of water to which you took two and downed the water, passing him the empty bottle. He kissed your forehead, before whispering ‘good girl’ and chucking the bottle in the bin.
You couldn’t ignore the way your tummy flipped at his praise, the heat rising to your face instantly and you had to bite your lip to stop the smile taking over your face.
‘You okay, gorgeous?’ He questioned, snapping you out of your daze, and you only turned redder at being caught. He let out a little laugh before pulling back the covers and helping you get in, tucking himself in besides you and pulling you into his chest. ‘You have a good time then?’ He asked and you nodded before looking up into his beautiful brown eyes.
‘Yeah it was really nice. I really like Hannah she’s a lot of fun’
‘You got any office gossip to share?’ He quizzed, and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Mason loved to know what was going on in your life and loved the office gossip even more. He wanted to know who was seeing who, who hated each other and even mundane things like what they were serving for lunch that day. You spent a good 15 minutes updating him and he listened intently the whole way through. ‘Anything else? What did you and Hannah talk about?’ He mused once you were done, and he caught the cheeky glint in your eye as you went to answer.
‘Oh nothing much, just girl stuff’ you told him, turning in his arms so he could spoon you. He nested back into you, his lips kissing along your neck, pulling a breathy moan from you. If you weren’t so drunk you might have been able to hold it in better but right now you were at his mercy.
‘Girl stuff yeah?’ He spoke right in your ear, goosebumps erupting all over you. ‘Does that mean I don’t get to know?’
‘One day soon you might’ You teased and he laughed into your skin before settling back down behind you.
‘I’ll be counting down the days then’ he breathed, kissing your neck once more. ‘It’s late baby, we should sleep. You’re gonna feel like hell in the morning’
‘I know’ you groaned and you felt him laugh behind you.
‘I’ll look after you okay. Sweet dreams, love’
‘Night Mase’ you murmured and with one final kiss to your shoulder, you both fell asleep.
Mason left for his away game around 3, after nursing you back to health with cups of tea and toast. You didn’t feel like doing much for the rest of the day once he was gone so you pushed all your jobs that needed doing in the house to Saturday, telling yourself you needed a lazy day every once in a while.
It was around half five when you thought about what you and Hannah had spoken about at dinner, pulling your phone out and browsing a few sites for some nice underwear but you weren’t really sure what you were looking for. You sent Hannah a quick text for some help and within fifteen minutes she’d sent you a some ideas.
The first two were pretty, frilly, floral numbers and whilst they were cute, they weren’t exactly what you were going for. The third was a racey black set with lots of cut outs and sheer parts. If you were feeling more adventurous then you might of picked that one but it was her fourth choice that really caught your eye.
It was a mix a satin and lace, lots of straps that you knew mason would love to touch and kiss, and it still incorporated some of the meshy parts of the black set however this one was a bit safer. The colour might have also convinced you, being a deep red that you knew he would adore.
After sending her a quick thank you text, you added it to your basket, thanking your lucky stars you were just in time for next day delivery and also noticing it came with a matching silk robe so you could cover yourself until you were ready to let Mason see. An excited but nervous feeling settled in your tummy in anticipation.
Most of Saturday was spent tidying the house and getting the food shop done. You had just finished putting it all away when you heard the buzzer go and the delivery man was handing you your package soon after. You were too nervous to open it just yet so you got yourself settled ready to watch Masons game.
You never got over how proud you were of him, even more so when he scored a late winner and you couldnt wait to get him home and show him exactly how you were feeling.
You sent him a quick well done text before grabbing the package and running upstairs, now excited to see what it looked like. You got dressed so you couldn’t see yourself in any reflection, covering your eyes and counting to three before moving your hands to see what you looked like.
At first you thought you were looking at another person, the way the underwear made your body look and feel was something you had never experienced before having not worn anything like this for Eric or any other man.
After staring at yourself in awe for a few more minutes you packed it all away and hid it back in your room in anticipation for when Mason got home tomorrow.
The hours were moving slowly the next day, mason assuring you he’s be home by about 2pm but you’d woken up so early in anticipation that you didn’t know how to fill your time. You were upstairs rearranging your sock drawer when you heard the front door open downstairs, checking your phone to see it was in fact 2pm and you rushed down the stairs to fling yourself into his arms.
He caught you as you came flying at him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he spun you in a circle. You both pulled back slightly to look at each other, matching smiles on your faces.
‘Welcome home baby’ you whispered as you planted a kiss on him. ‘I’m so proud of you’
‘Thank you, gorgeous’ he whispered, kissing you again, but you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him closer when he tried to break the kiss. He kissed you harder immediately, backing you up against the closest wall and trapping you there. You lips moved from his to across his cheek and started along his jaw. He softly let you down from his grip and you trailed your kisses down his neck which caused his to moan loudly. ‘Looks like someone missed me’ he teased, and you pulled back to look at his flushed face.
‘More than you know’ you breathed, beginning to feel him harden against you and you bit your lip at the feeling. He pulled away, respecting your boundaries and told you he was going to take a shower but you knew what that was code for. When things got hot and heavy but he knew a kiss would be as far as things would go, a ‘shower’ was code for him going to sort himself out alone. ‘Wait, don’t’ you pleaded and he looked at you with curious eyes. ‘I have something to show you, can you go wait in our room? I won’t be long’ you reasoned and he look at you confused before kissing your cheek and heading upstairs.
You took a few calming breaths before following him, nipping into your room and changing into the new underwear and throwing the silky robe on top. After a little pep talk in the mirror you made your way across to where Mason was waiting for you.
He was sat up against the headboard, scrolling on his phone and he had to do a double take when he saw you walk in. Moving from his position to sit on the edge of the bed, beckoning you over to stand in between his legs. Before you walked over to him, you dimmed the lights so you felt a bit more comfortable.
‘This is nice’ he told you, playing with the belt with one hand and resting his other on the back of your thigh.
‘You like?’ You asked, stepping back to give him a little twirl, hearing him hum in approval as he took you all in. ‘Well Mase, if you like this, you should see what’s underneath’ you told him, stepping back towards him.
He looked at you with wide eyes, unsure as to what was happening and when he didn’t move, you gently grabbed his hand and made him hold the end of the belt before stepping away so it would untie. Once it had, the robe fell open to reveal your lacey red underwear. You kept your eyes on Mason the whole time, watching how he swallowed a nervous lump at the sight of you, his eyes growing dark as he took you in. It was all the confidence boost you needed not to shy away from him and you pushed the robe from your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.
His eyes danced all over you multiple times, never having seen you look like this before. Living together you’d accidentally walked in on each other on the shower a handful of times, but he’d never seen this much skin of yours. He seemed lost for words for once so you dug deep and made the next move, his eyes snapping up to yours as you came closer to him. He sat back a little, helping you as you straddled his thighs but he kept his hands on your waist as he was still unsure of what was happening and what you were comfortable with. Your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest with the adoring look he was giving you.
‘I know it’s taken me a while, and I love you so much for giving me all the time I need and being patient with me. But I’m ready now Mase’ you told him, kissing him softly as he hummed into your mouth.
‘You sure?’ His whispered against your lips and you nodded against him with a smile.
‘More than sure. I haven’t been able to get the thought of you out my head for weeks’ you confessed, the fingers that were lost in his hair tightened ever so slightly and he groaned audibly before cursing under his breath. The kisses he was peppering down you neck felt amazing as his hands had now wondered ever so slightly lower to your hips and you could feel his fingertips lightly stroking over the top of your bum.
‘We’ll go slow yeah?’ He whispered as his lips reached your ear and you nodded before he gently lifted you off him and laid you down on the bed. He crawled over to lay beside you, propped up on one arm so he could hover over you, before attaching his lips back to yours.
You knew he was trying to relax you, starting you off with something comfortable that you were familiar with, but his hands were getting lower down with every stroke of his fingers so you moved yours from around his his neck and dipped your fingers under the hem of his shirt, feeling his abs tighten under your touch.
He moaned into your mouth pulling back to take it off before tossing it across the room. You’d seen Masons body all the time, he always went to bed shirtless, but you were in awe every time you got to see it. He was so toned and it turned you on even more watching how his muscles flexed under his skin when he moved. You were almost dribbling at the sight of him, but he was leaning back down to kiss you soon after.
‘What do you like, baby?’ He whispered and your whole mind went blank. The truth is you had no idea. Sex had always been about getting the job done on the past so you’d never stopped to think about what you did and didn’t like
‘I um… I’m not really sure’ you admitted and you could feel the heat traveling to your face. He didn’t give you time to elaborate, reading by my the look on your face that this wasn’t something you were used to so he kissed you quickly to ease your mind.
‘That’s alright gorgeous, we can figure it together’ he told you, giving you a sweet smile as he tucked some hair behind your ear. You felt your belly swarm with with butterflies at his words and caring actions, feeling so thankful for the man hovering over you. ‘If you don’t like something or want me to stop just tell me yeah?’ He said more seriously and you agreed before he started kissing you neck again. His hand roaming over your thigh and running along the edge of your underwear.
‘Can I take these off?’ He asked cautiously. As soon as you agreed he dipped his fingers in the waistband to pull them off. ‘It’s a shame though, You look fucking unreal, you know that?’
‘Yeah?’ You giggled and he nodded whilst starting at you.
‘Trust me, I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on. I’m trying so hard not to cum in my pants’ he laughed and before you knew it, your underwear had joined his shirt on the floor. You tried to shut your legs but his hand on one of your thighs kept them open before he settled back besides you, resting his leg over yours and trapping it between him and the mattress. He started kissing you again, his hand dancing across the inside of your thigh before he gently dragged them up to your chest, touching you over the lace bra. Your nipple hardened under his touch immediately, sending shivers down your body as it felt so good.
He was being so gentle and careful with you, but you needed something more from him now, your hips bucking up instinctively and you felt him smile into your mouth. You were more turned on than you could ever remember being, groaning into his mouth as he chuckled at your neediness.
‘Shhh baby, it’s okay, I got you’ he whispered, before his fingers came back to your thigh, inching higher until he was nearly touching you where you needed him.
‘Please, Mase’ you whimpered and he brushed a finger from your entrance to your clit, silencing your pleas but but making you moan loud at the first contact. He dipped his head to kiss you again, keeping you quiet as he slowly circled over your clit before inserting his finger ever so slightly and repeating his actions.
‘Fucking hell, y/n’ he growled, the sound turning you one even more. ‘You’re so fucking wet, Jesus Christ’. You could feel him getting hard against your leg, but all you could focus on was the pleasure he was providing you with. Your eyes were shut, and if you bit down on your lip anymore you thought you might of drawn blood. He kept at a steady pace but soon his lips were at your ear again. ‘Let me see your eyes baby, look at me’ he whispered and your eyes flickered up to meet his. ‘That’s it, keep looking at me’ he smiled and your eyes were trained on his until he inserted two fingers into you and they rolled into the back of your head. ‘Mmm, that feel good?’ And you chocked out a quiet yes. Clearly that wasn’t enough for Mason though and he started pumping his fingers in and out of you faster. ‘Louder baby, let me hear you’
‘Yes Mase’ you cried, his thumb making contact with your clit as he pulsed his fingers inside you. ‘Fuck that feels so fucking good’ you whimpered out and you felt him smile against your neck as he kissed you there. ‘Mase, I think I’m gonna cum’ you told him as your hips chased his hand, ready to let yourself go. It had been a long time since someone else got you to this point and you had to hold back and almost excited laugh as it bubbled up in your throat
‘Go on then’ he whispered and it was all the encouragement you needed before a string of curse words that would make anyone blush escaped your mouth as you came around his fingers. He rode you through it, letting you get your breath back before pulling his fingers from you. Your eyes found his, his face slightly hovering over yours and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile. ‘Can I have a kiss?’ He whispered, chuckling at his words but reaching up to give him a soft kiss and even though he’d just made cum, you were eager for more.
‘Mason?’ You questioned and his head shot up to look at you. ‘What do you like?’ You asked him, your face turning even redder and he smiled at your question. ‘It’s not all about me’ you said and he shook his head softly while smiling at you.
‘It is all about you’ he whispered but you just laughed at him whilst grabbing his face to make him look at you.
‘What do you want?’ You whispered and you heard him let out a low growl in the back of his throat, turning you on even more.
‘I want to taste you’ he admitted and you couldn’t help but let out a massive breath at his words. You’d only ever been at the receiving end a handful of times, and you know Eric never put even 50% effort in so the thought of Mason taking care of you in that way sent your head spinning. Your nodded, letting him know it was okay and he untrapped your leg from under his before sitting up on his knees in between your thighs. Your eyes met, him towering above you and he silently checked you were still okay but the look in your eye was all he needed to carry on. He lowered himself down, kissing his way from your chest back down you where his fingers just were. He reached up to lace his fingers through yours, giving them a slight squeeze before he dipped his head down.
Your whole body relaxed as he slowly started licking up your folds, and when he finally brushed over your clit again you let out a breath, still sensitive from the high he’d just given you. He was soft though, easing you back in and you could hear him groaning as he lapped you up. Your eyes were on him the whole time, making eye contact every now and then which made your tummy flip every time. Mason unlinked one of your hands before moving it into his hair and encouraging you to thread your fingers though his short brown locks. He moaned even harder and you slightly tugged, pushing his face into you even harder which I turn made you cry out.
You had a feeling Mason would be good with his mouth, noticing how his tongue was hardly ever where it should be and just the way he licked his lips sometimes sent you into a spiral. But this was on a whole other level, never having enjoyed anything like this before. the hand in his hair which gave you a little bit of control made you want to grind down onto him, and when he squeezed your hip in encouragement you moaned loudly. A few moments after, you let go of his hair, tugging on his shoulder and his head shot up to look at you, a slight panic on his face as he thought something was wrong but you were quick to reassure him.
‘Mase, as good are you are at that, I really need you to…’ you trailed off, not knowing how to verbalise what you were wanting, but he seemed to catch your drift. He jumped up and removed his underwear so he was now fully naked in-front of you and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel even wetter just by looking at him.
You thought he might be big, having woken up to him prodding you in the back more times than you could remember, but seeing him like this for the first time made your breath catch in your throat. He was flawless, and you were almost scared it wouldn’t fit, but the calming smile he gave you as he returned to between your legs relaxed you.
This was Mason, and you knew you’d be fine.
He didn’t make any movements to do anything yet, just went straight back to kissing you and trying to relax you again. When your legs wrapped around his body he knew you were ready. You could feel him already hard as a rock against your leg, and he grabbed a hold of himself lining up with your entrance whilst never disconnecting your lips.
He pushed into you slowly, both of you breathing and moaning into each other mouths as the pleasure took over you. Your hands gripped his shoulders as he began to thrust into you at a a slow pace so you could adjust to him. After a minute or so you were ready for him to pick up the pace as you knew he was being careful with you on purpose.
‘Mase’ you breathed in his ear and he dragged his lips across your throat and up to your jaw, kissing along it delicately. ‘I need you to go faster. Please don’t hold back’ you told him and he picked up his movements instantly, groaning into your skin at your words.
‘God, you feel so fucking good’ he told you, his lips right on your ear before he pulled back to look at your face. His nose was flushed and his hair was hanging over his forehead but the smirk on his face made your heart flip. ‘You best be ready for me to be on you 24/7 now, gorgeous. You think you can take it?’
‘Yes Mase’
‘You’re such a fucking good girl’ he growled and you were almost embarrassed at the sound that came out of your mouth at his words. You saw him smile down at you, licking his lips as he took you in. ‘You like that don’t you? Being my good girl’
‘Uh huh’ you whimpered, your hands detaching from his shoulders to pull down the front of your bra so you could touch yourself. You heard him groaning at the sight and the feeling of you tightening around him as he pulled up, gripping onto the headboard for extra leverage so he could pound into you even harder. You knew he was close, having waited months to be in this position with you and you so you reached one hand down to play with yourself but he seemed to catch on before you got there. He grabbed your hand, placing back on your chest before touching your clit himself. It only took a few more seconds for you to come undone around him, watching in awe as he did too, both cursing in unison before he pulled out of you to lay down.
You felt his hand on your waist once your breathing was back to normal, tugging you towards him so you could cuddle into his chest. His lips started peppering kisses along your hairline immediately before you looked up at him with a shy smile.
‘Did I do okay?’ You mumbled, hoping he’d enjoyed himself as much as you had.
‘Are you kidding me’ he laughed squeezing you tightly and kissing you gently. ‘you’re amazing’ he whispered softly against your lips, making you smile. ‘I don’t want you to worry about if you were good enough or not, we’ve got so much time to practice and figure out what works and what you like. All I care about is making sure you enjoyed it’ he told you and you smiled up at him whilst nodding.
‘I really did’
‘Well for what it’s worth, I did too’ he winked and you nested into him more as you laughed. ‘I kick myself most days about how I should of told you how I felt about you when we were kids. You probably wouldn’t of gone near the prick of all pricks and we could of started our lives together so much sooner’
‘You don’t know that, Mase. It might not of worked back then. At least we’re grown now and we know what we want’
‘I guess. I’m just thinking about all the years of sex we’ve missed out on’ he laughed whilst tickling your ribs.
‘We’ll just have to make up for lost time’ you whispered, pulling him in for a heated kiss, your hot skin sticking to each other as his hands roamed over you again.
‘Was this the ‘girl talk’ you were on about the other day?’ He questioned, pulling back to look at your flushed face as you nodded with an embarrassed smile. ‘I’ll have to send Hannah a thank you card’ he teased as you hid your face from him. ‘Thank you for trusting me’ he whispered into your hair and you nodded into his neck.
‘Always’
Thank you so much for reading 😌 I'd really like some feedback so please feel free to drop me an ask or whatever you feel comfortable doing, I'd really love to hear from you 🩷
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Safe part 1
18+ minors dni
Bucky x f reader
I loved this request, it started getting long so I’m going to split this into more than 1 part. This is going to start off angsty because I wanted to dedicate a proper chapter for the smut, I promise its coming!
Warnings: Angst (some violence), fluff!!! eventual smut, stay tuned
Word count: 4.5k (see why I had to break this up, shit was going to be as long as the hunger games)
-
“Are you sure you want to do this, they’re dangerous Buck, we don’t have any information on them aside from how many people they’ve killed, the numbers are probably higher”
Steve watched Bucky pace around the room, hesitant to let his best friend join. The mission required whole team; to infiltrate and destroy a Hydra base that was presumed inactive. Hydra had a new assassin, far deadlier than the others. They didn’t use strength; they moved in silence like a ghost, hitting their targets in one shot and then disappearing.
Tony huffed in frustration over the limited information they were given from Fury. After months of tracking, they only had the coordinates of where the base was located, but even that was a long shot.
“I know Hydra better than anyone” Bucky shook his head, understanding the team’s worries about letting him join but he wasn’t going to let the chance go by. People already suffered at the hands of the Winter Soldier, he wouldn’t let that happen again. “Their words don’t work on me anymore, I’ll be fine”
“We don’t know what we’re up against” Tony swallowed thickly; it was rare they went in with such limited information, but they were under pressure, whoever hydra had sent out was moving quickly and world leaders would be their next target.
“I’m going”
*****
On the surface, the base was nothing but an abandoned building. Everything was underground, running in mazes, with guards in every hall. Bucky didn’t hold back, swiftly snapping necks, with just one goal in mind. To end whatever Hydra had started. Bucky left a trail of bodies as he made his way down the hall towards the doors of the lab. A single hydra agent stood, wiping fresh blood off his hands.
“Welcome soldat, we were waiting for your return” The man sneered, “желание-”
“Where are they” Bucky growled, his metal hand wrapping around the man’s neck, dangling him in the air. He gave Bucky a sickly grin while gasping for air.
“Ah, s-so you’ve heard. Our beautiful new assassin. Th-they are unst-stopable” His hands clawed at Bucky’s arm as he continued to cough. Bucky didn’t come in with the intentions of negotiating an answer, continuing to crush his neck in his hand. The man gasped the last bit of air before collapsing to the floor. “H-hail Hydra”
Bucky walked over his body, towards the locked restricted doors at the back of the lab. He managed to kick through the door, entering the dark hall way with cyro chambers and cells. He made his way down, each cell empty except for the last one.
Asset 0553- Female
Trained sniper, unenhanced
Serum – X
You were curled up in a corner of your cell, your hands and feet chained to the wall. Your body had similar burns to what he had when they used to wipe his mind. You trembled with your head tucked between your knees, shivering in nothing but your underwear, fresh gashes on the sides of your torso.
You had just been punished.
Bucky stepped back for a moment, his mind spinning. The team had been sent with the intention to kill you; unsure of what they was up against, expecting another Hydra fanatic desperate to continue the legacy. You had been taken to be used as an asset; you didn’t ask to be here. You had been tortured and trained just like him. He couldn’t hurt you.
*****
You squeezed your eyes shut the moment you hear the doors burst open, retreating to the corner of your cell. You could hear the footsteps approaching you but they were different from your handler. You didn’t dare look up, shielding yourself as best as you could with your arms wrapped around your body. You freeze when pair of hands gently touches you, one warm, the other cold. They pry open the shackles locked around your ankles. Was it him? You had heard of such a man before. The man with the metal arm. The Winter Soldier, Hydra’s greatest asset and loss. You keep your face hidden, pulling your hands away but he catches them, holding your wrists gently but firmly, freeing you from your chains.
“I’m not going to hurt you” His voice is soft, sincere, but you can’t trust him. You couldn’t trust anyone. Not even yourself. You continue to hide away, pain radiating through your body from when you disobeyed your orders. You’re too weak to fight; punishments leave you drained, teetering so close to death. You can hear him unzip his jacket, suddenly surrounded by warmth when he covers you with it.
“I’m getting you out of here, they won’t hurt you anymore”
He lifts you in his arms, cradling your body to his. You don’t dare to utter a word, your muscles rigid from fear. His body is warm. Comforting. You don’t relax in his hold, keeping your face tucked away as he takes long strides, carrying you out of your prison.
*****
Bucky ran down the hall, careful not to startle you. You were weak, he couldn’t even imagine what your frail body had gone though. He remembered the torture. The pain. He had the serum and it still nearly killed him each time. You didn’t. The static of his com started to crackle, with Tony’s urgent voice coming through.
“We couldn’t locate the target on our end, the place is set to blow in 1 minute, everybody get out”
He spotted Steve rounding the corner, his friend’s eyes growing wide seeing you in Bucky’s arms.
“What-
“No time, let’s go” Bucky carried you in his arms, running to the Jet where everyone else waited. They froze seeing you but there wasn’t time for questions. They had to leave before the base was destroyed. Once the jet was safely in the clear, everyone’s eyes were on Bucky.
“Is that…” Tony looked at you wide eyed. They had spent months tracking a deadly silent killer and there you were, tucked in Bucky’s arms, fast asleep from exhaustion. You hadn’t slept in weeks. Bucky wordlessly nodded, refusing to let you go. He knew no one would try and hurt you but he was thrown back to the times where he couldn’t trust anyone. Nat handed Bucky a blanket to cover the rest of your body. He held onto to you for the entire time until the jet landed. He hated it but he knew what would happen next.
“We don’t have a choice” Tony and Steve looked at Bucky sympathetically as he clung onto you. Bucky felt like he’d swallowed cotton, seeing you locked up in the compound cell. He understood why, but it hurt him nonetheless. You trembled, looking down at your feet, having no idea where you were.
“How can we trust her” Fury wasn’t happy with the idea of letting you stay at the compound with the others. SHIELD was hell bent on sending you to the Raft.
“She didn’t do anything willingly…I- Bucky swallowed thickly thinking about all the things he had been forced to do, when he didn’t have control over his own mind. “They force people to do things, none of that was her”
“She’s still dangerous”
“SHES NOT DANGEROUS” Bucky’s chest heaved, his voice booming against the walls, as he glared at Fury.
Fury was about to argue again before Steve and Tony cut in.
“Let her stay here, if she’s actually dangerous then you can take her”
“You don’t make the rules Captain-
“She stays here. We’ll inform you IF there’s a problem”
“That’s a very big if Stark. Should anything happen because of her, you’ll all be collectively held responsible”
*****
The man with the metal arm approached your cell. You could tell by the sounds of his footsteps. The cuffs clicked open but you didn’t move, your eyes trained on your feet. You froze as he kneeled in front of you, gently taking your hands in his. You flinched initially, relaxing a little when he softy rubbed his thumbs over your knuckles.
“I’m sorry we had to lock you. We didn’t want you sent away, you’ll be safe here”
He spoke softly. He sounded kind but you remained silent. If you spoke out of turn you’d be punished. Bucky swallowed thickly, knowing exactly why you hadn’t said anything since they brought you.
“You can speak here. No one will hurt you”
Silence.
“My name is James. You can call me Bucky” Your lip twitched involuntarily. Bucky. It sounded so…cute.
He squeezed your hand gently, still kneeling in front of you. No one had ever touched you so softly before. You finally looked up at him, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. He was so…handsome. He had kind eyes, ones that you would easily get lost in. He didn’t have the same long hair you had seen from the training videos. His arm was different; it was no longer silver. It was dark gray and gold. A light stubble covered his cheeks, softly smiling at you. He was beautiful.
Bucky felt his heart break when you looked at him. Your eyes were so soft. Scared. Innocent. Lost. You had faint permanent scars on your temples, from where your mind had been wiped a hundred times over. Your wrists were bruised from the shackles in your cell. He would never let them or anyone hurt you again.
“I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you. Will you let me take you to your room?”
You nodded, lightly squeezing his hand instead of speaking. You gripped his hand tightly as he walked you down the empty hall, leading you through the compound. You held onto him tighter when you passed the others but they didn’t say anything. Bucky squeezed your hand reassuringly as he let you upstairs.
He wordlessly let you into your room; it was on the same floor as his and Steve. The room was warm, welcoming. You had everything you needed. But you couldn’t trust anyone. You didn’t even remember who you were.
*****
“From what we’ve been able to piece together so far, her name is y/f/n, y/l/n/. Born on (y/DOB), no records of family and there’s not much we know about her before Hydra. They held her captive for 5 years and she was actively used as an asset for 2”
The team sat around the conference room, having spent the last few hours looking through files they had recovered from the mission. All the records Hydra had on you had to do with your training and skill set.
“She wasn’t given the serum, and no trigger words so unlike Barnes, she’s not a super soldier. She is, however, a highly trained assassin and she moves like a ghost. They used different technology to get her to comply, but they used the same mind wiping torture they used on Bucky”
“She’s probably scared out of her mind right now” Nat sighed, thinking about the way you were curled up on Bucky’s lap, shivering even under his jacket and blanket.
Tony skimmed through a few videos, eventually closing the laptop because he couldn’t bear to look anymore. Steve squeezed Bucky shoulder, seeing his jaw clench. Bucky closed his eyes, his metal arm whirring when he thought of you. The team wouldn’t know the half of it; the extent Hydra would go through to keep their assets under their control. But he knew. He had suffered for decades.
*****
For the first few weeks you don’t speak to anyone. It was impossible to tell there was someone new living at the compound at all. You silently made your way around when everyone else was sleep, exploring the compound. You were still hesitant to let your guard down but you appreciated that fact that everyone gave you your space.
Usually Bucky or a tall man with blonde hair often left food at your door. At first you were hesitant but eventually you ate. You made sure to wash and clean your own plates once everyone was asleep. You hadn’t slept. You were trained to stay awake; unless someone else was on duty with you, you had to be on guard. You had only slept peacefully once. In his arms.
Bucky watched you carefully each night from the shadows, remaining out of sight so he wouldn’t startle you. He understood your need to stay hidden. You would bring your plate down and sit in the kitchen or curl up on the sofa. Occasionally you’d glance at the mugs, hesitating to make yourself something to drink. When you went down the next night, a cup of tea sat on the counter along with a plate of cookies that was normally never there. It was still steaming. Someone had just made it. A note sat beside it.
Tea bags are on the counter. Cookies are on the bottom shelf, take as many as you want, Sam made them
- JBB
You smiled to yourself, slowly sipping from your mug; it warmed you from the insides. The cookies were delicious and for the first time, you felt comfort. He’d thought of you. That night you tried to fall asleep. You couldn’t but for once, you were able to think about more than your surroundings. Y/N. You remembered your name. Bucky smiled the next morning when he saw there was one less cookie from the box; you’d felt comfortable enough to take more.
*****
You quietly made your way downstairs, surprised to see Bucky making something in the kitchen (hoping it wasn’t obvious he was secretly just waiting for you). You decided to sit instead or of running to your room, sipping your tea while he turned around, smiling softly at you.
“Thank you” You whispered, peeking up at him from your lashes. Whatever he was making smelled sweet, like home, as if you were being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. Another faint memory.
“You’re welcome…doll” Bucky blushed, realizing you hadn’t told him your name. Doll suited you though. Your face lit up at the nickname, smiling into your cup.
“My name is y/n but…you can still call me doll” You giggled shyly, and he wanted to hear that sound leave your lips again and again. “W-what are you making?”
“Pancakes” He placed a few on a plate, drizzling syrup on top before sliding it over to you. “One of the few things I can remember from when my ma would make breakfast”
They were still warm and you nearly moaned at the taste, the fluffy goodness melting onto your mouth. You continued to eat while watching him pour the batter into perfect circles, waiting for it to bubble before turning it over.
“They’re delicious” You smiled, hesitantly standing beside him, watching curiously. He tried not to show it but Bucky’s heart was beating out of his chest. He understood how much it took for you to be talking to him, standing beside him, trying your best to open up.
“You want to try making one?” He smiled at you and even though you were nervous, you let him guide you to stand in front of him, his large frame behind you made you feel protected. You took the spoon, pouring batter like he did, letting it bubble before flipping.
“Like this?” You grinned looking up at him, proud of your first pancake.
“J-just like that” Bucky stuttered. You had the sweetest smile when you were happy. You handed him the spoon again, sitting on the counter while he continued to finish the last bit of batter.
“They taste really good”
Bucky chuckled, watching you nibble on a plain pancake; your eyes closed humming in satisfaction.
“Can’t remember how my ma’s pancakes used to taste but I remember loving them”
“Is it hard…to remember again?” Your eyes looked lost again, like the day that he found you. You wanted to remember but there were too many things that jumbled in your mind at once.
“Sometimes but not always, when I talk to someone or go places, I remember something or a memory will spark”
“Can-can you tell me more? About nice things you remember?” You weren’t ready to unscramble your own memories yet but being around Bucky and hearing him speak was comforting for you. Bucky was more than happy to tell you anything, he just wanted you to feel at home. He told you about Steve. How he loved to go dancing. About how he joined the war. His time at Hydra.
You couldn’t remember much but you told him about the memories you had. The training. The wipe outs. The punishments. At some point during the night, you’d both made your way over to the couch, listening to more about the things Bucky and Steve used to get up to, the way they still got up to mischief even now. He told you about everyone on the team, how they had become a family to him now. You were surprised to see the sun come up, having spent hours talking to Bucky, along with the now empty stack of pancakes.
“Thank you for talking to me”
Bucky could feel his cheeks heat up, watching you shyly fidget with your hands.
“Any time, doll”
You smiled, quickly making your way back to your room before the others came down. Over the next week, you still stayed hidden from others but if Bucky was around you relaxed, enjoying his stories from the 40’s, sipping on your tea or watching him make a midnight snack. So when he knocked on your door in the morning, asking if you’d join him for a walk, you agreed.
“Not a long walk doll, just to get some fresh air, do you want to join me? Please?” You nodded, your eyes darting to see if anyone else was around. He carefully took your hand in his, squeezing it gently to help ground you.
He brought you to the compound lake, finding a quiet spot under a tree overlooking the water. The sun warmed your skin. The air felt clean, fresh. For the first time you felt…free. Until you heard a rustle in the grass. Your vision focused, body tensed watching. He held your hand again, his thumb brushing on your knuckles like the first day he brought you here. You relaxed a little but your eyes didn’t move, focused on the movement that was nearing you.
Your eyes lit up seeing a tiny ball of fur speed across and into a bush, only watching a glimpse of its little white cotton tail before it disappeared.
“Is that a bunny?!” You squealed, looking at Bucky with wide eyes and that same smile that stopped his heart. He nodded, gazing at you while you peeked over, watching another bunny run across.
“I remembered something!” You blinked, biting your lip trying to focus on the distant fuzzy memory from when you were younger. “I-I think- You grasped Bucky’s hand in yours, tugging him to walk over to the bush”
“There used to be a park I played in. When I was little. There were bunnies, just like this!” You jumped on him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist hugging him tightly. “I was able to remember something!”
“I’m proud of you doll” Bucky wrapped his arms around you, rocking you gently when he felt you start to tremble, tears filling your eyes.
“I wish I could remember more” Your voice cracked, as you choked out a sob, over come with emotions as you tried to recall more but failed. Bucky held you close to his chest, softly stroking your hair and rubbing your back.
“Shhh, you will y/n” Bucky whispered, his lips pressing a soft kiss on your head, wiping some of your tears while you continued to sniffle, clinging onto him. “You’ll remember more, I promise it’ll get better”
You wordlessly nodded, keeping your arms wrapped around him, feeling yourself get lost in his strong arms holding you. You nuzzled your face against his chest, chasing his comfort and warmth, breathing in his scent, he smelled so good. You realized you’d been hugging him for a very long time, quickly (but very reluctantly) pulling away.
“S-sorry, I didn’t mean- You bit your lip nervously, your body still trembling slightly. Bucky pulled you back in his arms, rocking you again.
“Don’t ever apologize. I’m always here if you ever need anything doll, always”
*****
The team had gathered down for breakfast by the time you both made your way back to the compound. Bucky held your hand in his, stopping before going to the kitchen when he saw you nervously biting your lip.
“You’re more than welcome to eat with everyone else doll, do you want to sit down today or shall I bring you something to your room?”
Everyone had been so understanding with you, giving you space and respecting your privacy. After Sam found out you liked the cookies, the container was always full and he made sure they stayed out so it’d be easy for you to find. Nat had left a basket filled with a fluffy robe, bubble bath and lotions. Tony had reinforced security around the tower in case anyone came looking for you. You didn’t want to hide anymore.
“Let’s go” You nodded nervously, gripping his hand tightly while he led you to sit at one of the stools with the others.
“Good morning” Your voice was hardly above a whisper while the team smiled at you. They greeted you warmly and you felt nervous, but it wasn’t unbearable. They didn’t act differently, resuming their conversations while they continued to eat. Steve smiled, glancing at Sam when he saw Bucky still holding your hand.
“Here sweetie” Nat passed a plate to you while Steve pushed the stack of waffles closer to you. Bucky got up to grab you a fork, his hand resting on the small of your back.
“You want tea, doll?” You nodded, nibbling on your waffle while he grabbed your mug and grabbed a tea bag. Tony’s ears perked up at the nickname, carefully watching the way you visibly relaxed when Bucky was by your side. Sam smirked, watching him dote on you, keeping you close to him; he was going to have a field day with this.
“Here” He placed your mug in front of you, giving you a quick peck on top of your head before sitting beside you. You blinked shyly, whispering a thank you, your heart fluttering wildly.
Bucky screamed on the inside, he didn’t know why he did that. Why did he kiss you. In front of everyone. It just felt so natural. His tried to ignore the blush that crept on his cheeks but it was impossible to hide. You went to your room after you finished eating, thanking everyone for letting you join. Bucky watched you longingly as you made your way to your room. He didn’t want you to go but he knew you needed your space.
“I think the super solider has a crush” Sam wiggled his eyebrows, grinning watching Bucky’s face turn redder, flipping him off. “See!!? He didn’t deny it!!”
“I’m just helping her, we’re friends” Bucky mumbled, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
“Mhm, we’re all friends, why don’t you call me doll” Bucky’s face scrunched up, throwing a waffle at Sam’s head.
“He’s never made me a cup of tea” Clint pointed out, while the rest of the team snickered, watching Bucky rub a hand over his face.
“And he’s never just kissed my head” Steve smirked, biting his lip to keep from laughing, he could hear Bucky’s heart race.
“I’m eating in my room”
“Terminator’s in love, that confirms it” Tony cackled, watching Bucky grab his plate, speeding out of the kitchen without looking back.
“I think they’re sweet” Nat smiled while the rest of the team hummed in agreement. There was no hiding the very obvious connection the two of you shared. You started to feel more comfortable around the others and Bucky was always by your side. He always had his arm around you, ready to whisk you away to safety if you ever felt overwhelmed. He loved you.
*****
You tossed and turned in your bed in frustration. You just wanted to fucking sleep but your body didn’t let you. You dragged yourself out of bed, making your way to the kitchen when you noticed Bucky’s door slightly open; he was still up.
“Bucky? Can I come in?” You whispered, fidgeting with your hands by the doorway, hoping he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
“Of course doll, is everything okay?” He put down the book he was reading, patting his bed for you to come over.
“I-I can’t sleep” You sat at the edge, looking at your feet, you wanted to crawl into his arms so badly but you didn’t want over step.
“When was the last time you slept” He shifted so he was sitting beside you, his thighs brushing against you causing you to shiver.
“On the jet” You could feel your face warm up, remembering the way he cradled you, holding you close to his chest, protecting you. You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say. You felt safe in his arms, no one was going to come and hurt you. You wanted to sleep so badly but you couldn’t, hot tears stung at your eyes as you looked down at your hands.
“I- because…”
“Come here” Bucky’s voice was hardly above a whisper, holding your hand softly in his. He moved to lie down, pulling you on top of him, brining your head to lay on his chest. He stoked your back while holding you close to him.
“Go to sleep doll, you’re safe with me”
You were asleep within seconds, clinging onto him; after that night you didn’t sleep in your own room anymore, you were always in his arms. With each passing night, you found yourselves getting closer. It started with cuddling up with him, the covers pulled over you both, your head on his chest.
Then he started kissing you good night; soft, innocent, kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. You’d shyly kiss him back, hiding your face in his neck after, every time.
Then hands started to wander. Innocent touches, feeling the warmth of each other’s skin. You loved the way his calloused fingers grazed your back when he slipped his hand under your shirt. Bucky loved the feeling of your soft hands resting on his bare chest.
Then it was…different. He wouldn’t kiss you good night once. He’d kiss you over and over again. Innocent. Sweet. You were wrapped in each others arms, darkness filled the room. All you could feel was him. His lips. His hands holding you close.
Then kisses started to wander. He kissed your back, jaw, hands. You kissed his shoulders, chest, neck.
Innocent. You couldn’t get enough of him. You adored him. Loved him.
Only Bucky knew how much self restraint it took every night, to keep himself from going any further, but he wanted it so badly. He wanted to feel you, hold you, be close to you in the most intimate way possible, but he didn’t want to cross that line when you were still vulnerable.
He had no idea you were struggling to keep your hands to yourself, just like him.
*****
Part 2 here
Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)
Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @needybabygirlstuff @goldylions @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @high-functioning-lokipath @elle14-blog1
#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky x f!reader#avengers x reader#marvel smut#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fan fiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes request#bucky barnes requests#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fluff#bucky barnes x hydra reader#protective bucky#protective bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#Steve Rogers#captain america
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close to home | chapter sixteen
close to home | chapter sixteen
plot: the reader is on the mend when the governor attacks the prison, leaving her found family scattered
series masterlist
Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader
Word Count: 1,742
Warnings: violence, blood, loss
A/N: thanks for reading!
Daryl was sitting on the floor of your quarantine cell block when you started to stir. It had been about eight hours since the medicine was administrated into your veins, and he hadn’t left your side during that time, save for when Rick had told him that he’d banished Carol after murdering Karen and David.
He swallowed his anger and went for a walk but ended up at your cell. He grabbed a few of your personal items, like the book you always said you were reading but never seemed to finish, your water bottle, and even double-backed to grab your bow and arrow because it would make you laugh when you woke up. Then he returned to your quarantine cell and waited for you to wake.
When he noticed you were starting to wake up, he grabbed the metal chair Hershel had left and sat down next to the cot. Slowly your eyes opened, and he watched you look around before focusing on him.
“That would’ve been one hell of a way to die,” You croaked out. Your voice was hoarse and full of exhaustion.
But your first words were a joke, and Daryl shook his head in relief. “Nah, wouldn’ have been cool at all,”
You sighed heavily and tried to look around. “How is everybody?”
“They’re fine… you?” He asked.
You shrugged your shoulders and pulled the scratchy blanket up. “Tired, but okay.”
“You should sleep some ‘ore. You nearly died last night.” Daryl said, chewing on his thumbnail. The image of you choking to death was still fresh on his mind, and even though he had tried to clean the blood off your face, it still lingered.
“Normally, I would argue, but I’m so tired,” You said. “Where’s Tora?”
“With Carl in the office building. He got her, don’ you worry.”
You smiled up at Daryl tiredly, “I wasn’t worried,” You took a tired glance around the room and tried to laugh when you saw the bow and arrow in the corner, but it came out in coughs. “You brought my bow,”
“Figured you might miss seein’ it around since you never use it anyway,”
But you were too far gone to respond, and Daryl watched as you started to fall back asleep. Your hand unclenched around the blanket, and your mouth parted, breaths deepening. You were asleep. He sighed happily. Sleeping meant you were healing. Soon you’d be out of the cell block and back home in yours, and things would be okay again. He would make sure something like this never happened again.
Daryl slowly reached out to you, running his fingers along the curve of your cheek. He had no idea how someone he’s only known for a few months managed to creep her way into his heart. He cared about you deeply; you were his best friend. He honestly didn’t know how much he cared about you. He knew it ran deep, and he didn’t have the words to explain it.
“Daryl,”
He jumped at the sound of his name and turned back to see Rick. With flushed cheeks, he followed Rick out of the cell block. They had plans to tell Tyreese about what happened with Carol and how Rick had handled it. Daryl was a bit nervous about how it would go--especially after the last time that they had any type of discussion.
But when they reached Tyreese, they followed him into the tombs, and he showed them a rabbit pinned to a board and picked apart. Daryl was still trying to understand what happened when a loud explosion happened, and the prison shook.
***
You didn’t wake up when the first explosion sounded. You were too far gone in your slumber to notice that at all. It wasn’t until your shoulder shook ferociously that you were pulled from sleep and your eyes shot open.
You could smell the fire in the air, gunshots echoing outside, and the sound of people screaming. You felt like you were in a nightmare.
“(Y/N), wake up!”
When you came to, Lizzie was standing above you. Her eyes were frightful, and she was a few seconds away from crying. “What’s going on?” You asked.
“Someone attacked us. We have to go now.” She said.
The young girl helped you to your feet, and you looked around the room, grabbing your weapons and layering on them. You paused at the bow and arrow before stringing it over your shoulders. Your hands were shaking as you tried to think where your family was. But with the chaos, they could be anywhere.
Lizzie grabbed your hand and helped you walk the few steps it took you to balance out, and despite the lingering sickness, you were steady. You led the way out of the cell block and into the courtyard, where a full-on warzone was taking place.
“Over there!” Lizzie yelled suddenly, pointing to where Mika and a few other children were running. “We followed the plan but I went back for you.”
You wanted to cry with relief when you saw one of the kids carrying Tora, who looked absolutely frightened. She had been with Judith in the office buildings, and of course, the kids wouldn’t have left them behind.
“Okay, let’s go,” You said, ushering the young girl forward. You took a second to look around, but you couldn’t see anyone. You could hear gunshots, though. They were close. You told the kids to stay where they were and followed the gunshots, watching as a few people cornered Tyreese. You were just about to launch your attack when Lizzie stepped before you, pulling the trigger and killing the people.
You and Tyreese stared at each other momentarily before Lizzie took off.
“They have Judith. We need to get them out of here,” You said, looking around. “Have you seen Maggie or Beth? Uncle Hershel?”
Tyreese shook his head, and you didn’t need to exchange other words. You both turned back to where Lizzie and the other kids were, but only Lizzie and Mika were. Both Tora and Judith were still there. You scooped up your cat and shoved her into Lizzie’s arms, taking her gun while Tyreese grabbed the baby.
“Daryl? Did Daryl get out?” You asked as you and Tyreese led the girls to the other side of the courtyard.
“We were shooting at them,” Tyreese said, checking back to ensure the girls followed. “I got cornered, and that’s when you came up. I don’t know. Did you see Sasha?”
You shook your head and ran through the broken fence. You weren’t sure how it was broken on this side, but you didn’t question it. You had to get them out of here, and you had to protect them.
***
The four of you had been walking for what seemed like hours when you finally stopped. With barely any supplies, you knew you needed to regroup. They had managed to grab Judith’s go bag, and at least they didn’t have to worry about her. But it was everyone else you had to worry about.
Dusk was nearly settled, and it would be dark soon. You were thankful it was still summer, and you wouldn’t have to worry about cold temperatures.
Lizzie and Mika were exhausted and collapsed as soon as you found a spot to settle in. Tyreese laid out Judith and worked on starting a fire. You checked the area to make sure it was okay and finally took a deep breath.
“I’m going to go out a little bit. Try and see what I can see,” You told Tyreese, fiddling with the string of your bow. “We barely got any weapons and I wanna see if I can catch us something to eat.”
Tyreese looked at the girls and then you, “Don’t go far. Shouting distance.”
You nodded and then set out, whistling for Tora. You could use her senses in the dark, and hopefully, she’d be able to catch something for you.
***
An hour later, you were sitting by the fire, eating the last few bites of an owl you managed to bring down. Tora sat between your legs, purring loudly while munching on a few bites. Both the girls were eating with tired eyes, and Tyreese was feeding Judith.
The fire was getting low, and you both decided to let it die. After having dinner and boiling some water you found at a nearby creak, there was no other use.
Another twenty minutes later, the girls seemed to have fallen asleep, and you were leaning against a fallen tree, holding a sleeping baby. Tyreese was discarding the animal bones and checking around again.
You sat in the dark, silent, and watched the last remaining fire embers go out. When they finally did, your breath shook, and you felt tears prick your eyes. You couldn’t stop them from falling, and you bit down on your free hand to keep yourself from sobbing.
Tyreese came into view and hesitated when he saw you crying. But he walked over and sat down, taking Judith from your arms and bringing you under an arm. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay,” He told you quietly.
That only made you cry harder, and you hid by his side, trying not to wake the girls as you mourned everything you lost. Your mind raced with images of your family, of your friends, and of your precious life. Maggie, Beth, and Uncle Hershel were all lost. You had no idea how even to begin looking for them. The prison was so overrun that you couldn’t look for a roaming body. And Carl, Rick, and Michonne… Carol and Sasha. They were all gone.
But somehow, Daryl’s face was the one that kept reappearing in your mind, and it made an unfathomable amount of pain and panic rise in your chest until it bubbled over and strangled the breath out of you. You didn’t know if he was alive or not, and you would never know. You could barely remember the feverish conversation you had with him this morning, and your last memory of them was that look of panic when he realized you were sick.
Tyreese gripped your shoulder and held you tightly, offering comfort in a way that you so desperately needed. You tried your hardest to stay quiet for the girls. Not that it mattered; too soon, walkers could be heard, and you woke the girls, scooped up Tora, and were on the run again.
#daryl x y/n#daryl x reader#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixion x reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon#daryl fanfiction#twd#daryl twd#daryl x you
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oooo can I request angst w keith? Maybe unrequited love ? Like reader and keith are childhood friends or sthm.
I ACTUALLY HATE WRITING ANGST. but it has to be done. i'm finishing writing a smut for him so 🙏I'LL TAKE THIS ONE. hint of klance?? really implied klance??. tbh i might make a second part if enough people want it
not proofread/really short because im ass at anything other than romance and smut
today was the day.
you straightened up from where you were sitting on your bed, holding a little letter in your hand. a letter you would give to keith if you were too scared to even say it straight to his face.
"i like you." it read. you slightly cringed at how it sounded like a middle schooler's confession letter.
but it was straightforward and got the point across. if it backfired, you could always make up some crazy backstory to the note, but you were sure it wasn't going to get to that point.
you were hoping it wouldn't.
you and keith have been basically tied together for as long as you could remember. you went through elementary school, middle school, and even the garrison academy, until he eventually dropped out.
somehow you had managed to follow him into space. a chance of fate, that one night you managed to follow lance and hunk and pidge.
now basically a medic, since you weren't meant to be a paladin and this was the best job you could fit into. and so far, you've been having the time of your life for the past few months.
of course, that didn't mean you were entirely relaxed all the time. it seemed way too often that one of the paladins have to come to you to fix up an injury they had received, either on a mission or even just practicing. keith was your most normal visitor, and you definitely weren't complaining. (but you were always worried for him.)
letting out a huge sigh, you stand up from your bed and make your way to the door, it sliding open once you were in close proximity. you began sweating as thoughts raced through your mind.
what if he genuinely doesn't like you like that?
what if this ruins what you guys have been building up for years?
what if this disgusts him and he never talks to you again?
what if he does something worse than him saying "no"?
you shook your head. you weren't too confident, but you also weren't going to dampen your mood. all you have to do is go up to him, hand him the note, and wait.
you were about to go search for keith, when it turns out you didn't have to move at all. he was making it down the hallway, and he perked up a little when he saw you standing there.
"hey, i have a question," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck when he had finished jogging towards you.
he noticed the envelope in your hands, but paid no mind to it as you gestured for him to come inside your room.
"so, what do you want to talk about?" you held off on confessing, opting to hear him out first since he did come looking for you, and you were curious. you placed the envelope on the drawer, right next to a picture of you and keith as kids that you had always kept on you.
he slumped onto your bed, letting out a big sigh as you could see he was struggling to find words for what he wanted to say.
"i don't know what to tell lance."
"tell lance?" you questioned. maybe he needed your advice to just talk to lance about something important.
"well. . ." he hesitated.
"you can tell me anything, keith," you made your way over to him and sat next to him.
"i don't know how to tell lance i like him."
you sure as fuck weren't expecting that.
your jaw dropped, and keith watched as you turned away from, not wanting him to see your glossy eyes.
"w-well." your voice cracked, you quickly covering it up with a cough. "sorry, allergies."
when you finally faced him again, you saw him looking at you questioningly. "you alright?"
"yeah, yeah." you rubbed your eyes as if they were itchy, playing into the 'allergies' cover-up. at least he won't ask why your eyes were red and teary.
(but you knew he was smarter than that.)
"hm, well." you tried not to think about it too hard, lest you start tearing up again. "just be bold and do it. you miss all the shots you don't take."
very ironic.
he grunted as he sat up. "as if i haven't been telling myself that for months.
months?
you've been pinning for a man who's liked someone else for months. all those years of childish infatuation down the drain. all the years of thinking about a future with him.
you wished you never met him.
quickly standing up so he wouldn't see the tears threatening to fall, you excused yourself.
"i have to use the bathroom. sorry keith, i'll see you later." right before you left, you turned your head at an angle so you could see him from the corner of your eyes.
"and remember, what could go wrong?" everything went wrong for you.
but you couldn't be mad at him. you were mad you didn't see the signs. it's not his fault he wasn't in love with you, and there was nothing you could do to change that. the most you could do out of love for him is hope that him and lance get together.
the door shut behind you, leaving a very confused keith on your bed.
he also made his way to the door, trying to build up confidence to ask lance out. his eyes trailed to the picture of you and him, and he smiled. he loved you like a sister, and couldn't imagine losing you, although you did seem a bit more distant after he. . .
he realized.
looking at the letter you left on the drawer, he saw that it was addressed to him.
he didn't bother opening it, because he already knew what was in it.
"fuck," he ran a hand through his hair. you were the last person he should've asked for advice. rushing, he went looking for you.
you on the other hand were in a random hallway, rubbing your wet face to make it look as presentable as possible before you went to the training deck to work out all your feelings. is it a healthy coping mechanism? probably not. but you didn't care.
how did you not see the way the two of them interacted? they were obviously a lot closer than with the other paladins. you were stupid.
never would you ever be blinded by hopeless love ever agai-
"something wrong?" you lifted your head to see shiro gazing at you worriedly.
part 2 with shiro!?!?!?
#I HATE THIS SO MUCH UGHHHHH#x reader#voltron mtl#keith voltron#voltron keith#voltron x reader#voltron#vld#vld fanfic#keith x reader#voltron legendary defender#keith kogane#angst
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💋⭐️🌃 - first kiss, stars, midnight.
belphegor × gen!reader. fluff.
no warnings.
content: you sneak up to the human world for a night of stargazing.
back to the 500 follower event: here.
“of all people, how did you manage to convince barbatos to let us up into the human world without telling lucifer?”
“he found a rat in the castle, and i think you can guess what happened next.”
belphie snickered at the implication, trailing not far behind as you snuck through the dark towards your meeting spot with barbatos. “i thought barbatos kept that place too clean for rats to go in.”
“well…” you shot him a sheepish smile. “maybe it didn’t go in by itself.”
“you’re crazy, MC.” the youngest brother shook with laughter, barely able to stop himself just as you reached the clearing.
you ran up to barbatos first, exchanging a few more words before you nodded in agreement and came back to belphie’s side. “we have about six hours up there, and then barbatos will bring us down again.”
“that’s great and all, but you still haven’t even told me what we’re doing.” he eyed your backpack carefully, face twisted in confusion.
“and i told you earlier that it’s a surprise.” you said in a dramatic tone, rolling your eyes at him before waving to barbatos that you were ready.
barbatos gave you a sharp nod, and a second of weightlessness later, you found yourself in an open field. next to you, belphie stumbled around as he tried to gain his balance. when he finally stood steady on his feet, he scanned the field cautiously, gaze switching between you and his surroundings constantly.
eventually, he broke the silence with an awkward cough. “seriously MC, why are we here?”
“because,” you began, zipping your backpack open to reveal a bundle of blankets, “there’s a meteor shower tonight, and i thought you might like to see it.” you tugged the blankets out of your bag, throwing the biggest one out onto the grass so you could spread it out. “give me a hand.”
belphie took a second to move, but slowly started to help you set up. as you pulled another blanket out, belphie gave you a look of bewilderment, reaching to grab your backpack to look inside. “how’d you fit so much in here?” he mumbled, digging inside to grab the two pillows you had thrown in as well.
“tetris,” you hummed.
“... right.” belphie shook his head, not entirely sure what you meant, but accepting the answer anyways.
the sun was low already, leaving only about 20 minutes of daylight left until the sky turned black. you couldn’t see it from behind the line of trees that surrounded the field, but the hues of pink and purple that were strung across the sky gave you an idea about where it was. you left soft music playing from your phone, and few words were exchanged between you and belphie as the sun finally set. the purple infused sky made way for the dark expanse of night, and you watched as the stars began to flicker into existence one by one. you fell back onto the blanket, arms crossed behind your head as you tried to make out the constellations that belphie had taught you about before.
“do you remember?” belphie fell next to you, his hair brushing against your arm as he adjusted himself on the blankets.
after careful consideration, you shook your head, wanting to admit defeat rather than get something wrong. “you taught me a lot, but when i’m actually looking at the real thing, it’s a lot harder to differentiate.”
belphie chuckled softly, a smile gracing his features as he looked up at the sky. “that big one there; cygnus.”
“the swan.”
“so you do remember.”
it was your turn to laugh, swatting lightly at his arm before turning your eyes up again. “what else is there?”
“there’s another bird,” belphie said quietly, pointing up to a different area. “do you remember the name?”
“you’re testing me, and for what?” you scoff in feigned irritation, but wrack your brain for the answer anyway. “that’s the eagle, right?”
the avatar of sloth nodded slowly, and you could feel his movements against your forearm. “but what’s the name?”
with a sigh you threw your arm on top of belphie, slamming across his chest and forcing a wheeze out of him. “i give up.”
belphie poked at your side in retaliation, drawing a surprised yelp out of you as he laughed. “aquila.”
“you’re so annoying.” you heard him mutter a thanks, and you couldn’t stifle your own giggling at the remark. “the meteors should show up soon, i think.”
“i don’t mind waiting, i like just the stars too.” you shifted onto your side, propping yourself up on an elbow as you looked over at belphie. he turned his gaze towards you, stars reflecting like city lights in his gaze. “what is it?”
warmth bloomed into your chest, trailing all the way down to your fingertips. “tell me about the stars again.”
belphie wondered if you knew how flushed your cheeks were; he wondered if you could tell how fast his heart was racing. even the chill of the wind wasn’t strong enough to blow away the heat that settled on his face. “then, let me tell you about cygnus again.”
true to his name, the avatar of sloth spoke so softly that it had you on the verge of dreams. but you were determined to see the meteor shower, so you fought the weight on your eyelids as you waited for a streak of light in the sky. you didn’t know how much time had passed before belphie suddenly sat up and pointed towards the stars. “did you see it?”
and just as he spoke, it appeared again. a flash of light in the dark, extending across the galaxies for you to marvel at. you released a sigh of content, sharing awed whispers with belphie as each meteor left golden strings behind.
a heartbeat of silence passed, and a gentle touch on your shoulders appeared after. belphie laid back down onto the blanket, pulling you up to lay partly on top of him. your head fell onto his shoulder and your arm was thrown across his waist. you relaxed into the embrace, practically melting when you felt belphie thread his fingers through your hair. you all but purred at the touch, leaning even closer as he kept up the action. you stayed like that for a while, only moving when you saw your phone screen light up with the time.
“it’s midnight, belphie. we should make a wish.”
the youngest stole a glance at the time before flipping your phone to face down. “i wish tonight was a bit longer,” he whispered, looking back at the stars.
“i wish i would never forget tonight.”
underneath you, belphie positioned himself so that his face hovered just in front of yours. “what do you say about making that a promise instead?”
you blinked at the proposal, unsure of what the demon was asking. but when belphie pressed his lips onto yours, everything became clear. you were still caught off guard, but when belphie began to pull back, you chased after him, tilting your head to match his and kiss him back properly.
there was a quiet gasp of surprise from belphie before he returned the gesture. his hand found the back of your neck and brought you closer, fingers tangling in your hair as you both deepened the kiss. you were quick to reciprocate, your own hand tracing down his shoulders until they landed on his waist, grip tightening when you started to run out of air. when you both did, you finally separated, chests heaving as your foreheads pressed together. your breaths entwined together in a messy rhythm, warmth spreading over both of your faces as you locked eyes with each other.
“promise me you won’t forget tonight,” belphie exhaled, brushing his nose against yours.
“i don’t think i could forget if i wanted to,” you replied, words hushed, as you chased after his lips one more time.
a/n: grrrahhhh
reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡
#obey me#obey me swd#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#obey me belphie#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie x you#obey me belphagor x reader#obey me belphie x reader#belphegor x you#belphie x you#obey me fluff#aris writes 🐈⬛#aris hits 500 🐈⬛
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A health update (and a general explanation of my long Covid)
So while I've been pretty open about living with long Covid, I realise I've never taken the time to explain what that actually means for me and my quality of living. It's a phrase I toss around but I can imagine it doesn't feel all that substantial to a lot of you.
So I figured that now that I'm feeling a bit better (more on that later) I should do so. Partly because I figure it will make it easier to understand why I sometimes have to disappear for weeks on end.
So, if you're interested, feel free to keep reading under the cut :)
But be warned: It's long and kind of whiny. But also ends on a high note! So there's that.
The first time I caught Covid was around Easter 2020, long before there were any vaccines, which meant that I was hit hard. But no matter how bad I felt during the illness itself, the aftermath has been ten times worse. I've been living with my long Covid symptoms ever since, so for four years now. They worsened for a couple of months when I caught Covid a second time in February 2021, but have otherwise held pretty steady during those four years.
A lot of people experience different symptoms with their long Covid and, sometimes, they'll change as the weeks and months go by. I actually had a very interesting couple of months during 2022 when my sense of smell just went completely whack and everything suddenly smelled differently than it should. Like, I could be smelling an apple but it did not smell like an apple. It was a weird time in my life.
Anyway. My most common symptoms are fatigue, fevers, joint pain, brain fog, memory issues, incoherent speech, and lowered blood circulation.
(The latter actually kickstarted the Raynaud's syndrome I have on my mother's side so now I struggle with fingers and feet that will occasionally go white, bloodless, and completely numb at random intervals. Fun times)
The fatigue and fevers are the worst by far. For the past four years, I have had exhaustion fevers between two to five times a week. Or every single day if I'm unlucky. It's very much tied to how much sleep I'm getting, how well I'm eating, and how many taxing things I do each day. I need eight hours of sleep to be functional and anything less than that will most likely mean I'll end up having a fever before the day is over.
Unfortunately, I've always had issues with my sleep so, on most nights, I don't get eight hours even if I try my absolute best. Sometimes it's because I wake up too early and can't fall back asleep and, sometimes — because my life sucks — it's because my fever is so high that I can't fall asleep. Cue the endless cycle of too little sleep and fevers.
Because one of the main issues with these exhaustion fevers — and what makes them so difficult to manage — is that there's no way to lower them. Medicine has no effect whatsoever. Once I have it, I just have to suffer through however many hours are left until I can sleep and hope that it'll be gone in the morning. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.
And every day my energy level gets just a little bit lower and the fever a little bit higher. Some days, all I can do when I get home from work is to lie on the couch and stare at the wall because I'm too tired and in too much pain to even watch something. And, again, no amount of medicine helps.
It continues on like this for a while and, every third or fourth month or so, the strain eventually becomes too much and I fall ill. My body simply shuts down from the continued stress and exhaustion, to the point where I can barely get out of bed. And, usually, I can feel it coming. On top of the fevers, I start coughing, then get a headache, and then my nose gets stuffy. And, by that time, I know I have about two to four days before I get sick. It's so accurate that my coworkers have learned that when I give the sign, they have to tell me whatever tasks they need to be finished within the near future since I'll probably be out of commission for one to two weeks.
But I eventually recover, go back to work, and so the cycle starts again. And again. And again. And again.
For four years.
All of this has, unsurprisingly, affected my quality of life to a pretty significant degree. I can barely work, let alone spend time doing any of my hobbies. I can't really travel anymore and, if I do, I'll get sick from the exhaustion. Even the 50-minute commute to the office (which I have to do three times a week) usually results in a fever before the day is over.
This inability to travel was how I ended up missing my maternal granddad's funeral. My shitty relatives didn't tell us the date for when he would be buried until there were only two days left and even if I could have put myself on an overnight train to get there, I knew I would be in no shape to actually be at the funeral if I did. So I couldn't go.
I did go to sit with my paternal grandmother as she was dying but, as expected, I got sick and couldn't return to work for a couple of days afterwards.
I also have to skip most birthday celebrations and any events happening on weekdays since I'm usually too feverish or won't manage the required trip to get there. My life has shrunk so much I barely recognise it anymore. I don't recognise myself. I used to be one of those people who could do a million things at the same time and somehow complete all of them. I was firm, organised, and efficient.
And now I'm not.
(... or, well, technically I am — at least compared to many others — but not compared to how I used to be xD)
Point being, a lot of things have changed and I don't like it. But, with that said, I'm also well aware that I'm lucky to be alive and I'm fortunate enough to have a stable job and a roof over my head. So, all things considered, I'm still doing pretty well.
But I also can't lie and say that this hasn't affected me in a deep and fundamental way. My life has changed and, right now, I don't know if it'll ever return to what I used to consider normal. And dealing with that knowledge — and the grief and fear that comes with it — hasn't been easy. I have cried ugly, self-pitying tears over this many, many times. It's frustrating to have no control over what my body does and to constantly have to be careful of what I do so I don't exhaust myself. I am furious that this happened to me.
But, after four years, there's also a certain amount of acceptance. And while I'm annoyed by my new limitations, I try my best not to feel too sorry for myself. Instead, I try to adapt as best I can, even if I might not always do it gracefully.
That does mean that I sometimes push myself more than I should, though. Because, if I didn't, I wouldn't never produce anything. As depressing as it is to admit, everything I've given you in the past four years has been while I was sick. I don't think a single chapter I've written or drawing I've made has been untouched by this. I've become an expert at writing, editing, and drawing even with a fever.
That doesn't mean I regret it, though — quite the opposite. I think that if I hadn't had a reason to write and draw, I would have felt even worse. A lof of the time, the excitement I feel when I'm able to post a chapter or show off a drawing I've made has been the highlight of my week. It's an accomplishment.
But, that said, it's still hard. Writing in particular. It requires a level of brainpower I can't reach when the fevers are too bad. And so, sometimes, I just can't. I literally just can't.
And, back in January, as I was trying to edit chapter 39 of Who Holds the Devil, I honestly pushed myself too hard. I was so determined to finish it that I didn't let myself see just how bad I was feeling — not at all helped by how emotionally draining the content of the chapter was.
It was only once I finished the chapter and posted it that I realised how absolutely wretched I felt. Not because of the chapter itself, but my lack of compassion for myself, I guess? Because the fevers were bad, I was barely sleeping, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted. And, what was worse, I realised that I was displaying depression symptoms I hadn't seen in over ten years.
All of a sudden, I got annoyed as soon as a minor inconvenience appeared. Everything people said to me was dissected into its tiniest component. I feared that people were secretly hating me. I couldn't meet people's eyes anymore when I was talking to them. I didn't realise I was just sitting there, staring at a wall, until several minutes had already passed.
And, as the final nail in the coffin, I stopped talking about how I was feeling.
And that, right there, is my last warning that I need to do something — always has been, ever since I was a teenager. When I clam up completely, refusing to admit to the people around me that I'm feeling bad, that's when I'm about to spiral.
So, the very next day, I went to my boss and told her that I'm getting burnt out and I need to do something NOW or this was going to turn ugly real soon. Thankfully, my boss is amazing and, after a doctor's visit, I was put on partial sick leave. Right now, I'm working six hours a day instead of eight and, let me tell you, I'm thriving.
Or, well, as much as I can while still having long Covid.
I'm almost angry at how much better I feel because, if I had known, I would have done this a lot sooner. I actually have energy now! I've only had a fever about four times in a little over a month! That's insane! It used to be four a week!
So yeah. I'm feeling better than I have in a long time. The downside is that the partial sick leave is still only temporary and there are no guarantees that I'll be able to keep it. Though, if need be, I'll just have to ask my boss to rewrite my contract and change the amount of hours I work because, man, I don't ever want to go back considering how much better and happier I feel. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I feel like I've gotten my life back. It's not quite the same as before, but close enough to it that I kind of want to cry again — but happy tears this time.
And so I've spent the past couple of weeks just... living? When, before that, it felt like I was merely existing. I've been drawing a lot since that helps with the depression symptoms (which are almost completely gone, thank god) but writing has been harder. Possibly because I forced myself to do it during a time when I felt really, really bad and now I'm instinctively trying to shy away from it. But, since I know that's just my mind playing tricks on me, I'm going to give it another try this weekend. I want to write and I miss the stories I'm working on. And, hopefully, since I'm feeling a bit better, I can maybe get back to a more structured uploading schedule. But we'll see. As always, I can't make any promises.
But that's about it, I guess? I'm feeling better and, since I am, I've been doing a lot of things that I wasn't able to before (like taking walks — I take a lot of walks). And I'm still trying to figure out my new routine now that I work less. And while I still get sick sometimes (I am right now, in fact, due to lack of sleep on Tuesday night) I always find my way back eventually.
So yeah. If you've read this far, thank you so much for your patience 💜 I admit that I don't really enjoy writing things like these since it feels like I'm whining — I was very much raised not to take up space or complain when things are difficult (an unfortunate side effect to being the middle child with two disabled, high-maintenance siblings) — but I also prefer honesty and transparency. And I feel a little guilty since there are times when I've given pretty harsh responses when people question why I'm sick all the time or why I don't upload chapters as often as I used to, but without actually explaining why. So I guess it's time to be honest?
And the truth is that I've been constantly sick for the past four years. Not only due to my long Covid, but also the emotional and psychological toll of all the loss, grief, and pain I've been through. These past four years have been rough.
But I'm not saying that to gain pity or make excuses. I actually think I've done pretty well considering just how hindered I've been. I've improved my drawings so much and have written... god knows how many words. I'm honestly kind of scared to check xD But it has to be over 600k by now, maybe closer to 700k.
I think my only regret is that I haven't been able to engage with you all to the extent I would want. I wish I could be a more active and enthusiastic participant in fandom — to seek you out, hold conversations, and give you all even a fraction of the attention you've given me. I feel like I don't offer you nearly enough.
But I also know that I have to accept my own limitations. So, for now, we'll have to settle for whatever I can give, even if it's less than I would want. But I will keep on creating, trust me on that, because I'm stubborn as fuck and even if my pace is slower, I'm still determined to finish what I start.
And that's the note I want to end this on. I have suffered, yes — more so than I may have expressed to you all — but I've still managed to create some beautiful things. And while I mourn who I used to be and the fact that some of you have never known me at my best, I don't think the me I am right now is all that terrible. Do I want things to change? Yes, definitely. But do I want to change the choices I've made and the things I've accomplished in the past four years? No, I can't say that I do. I'm proud of what I've done, especially considering my limitations.
And, if you're reading this, thank you so, so much for your kindness, compassion, and support. Some of you are old friends while others of you are new, but I am grateful to every single one of you. You have made these past four years more bearable. You have made it easier to keep fighting. You have made it worth it.
Thank you 💜
#Amethystina and Life#I don't really know what to tag this as#A rant?#A rambling?#An explanation?#It's just a lot I guess#And I admit I'm still hesitating whether to post this or not#I don't like talking about things like this#Or draw attention to it might be a better way to put it#But yeah#It's here if you want to read it#But do so at your own risk#Now I'm going to bed#And might just pretend I never wrote this because I feel awkward and embarrassed x'D
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Grim 4
Summary: Grim does have amazing magical potential. It just takes a story to bring it out. Though, it might be a bit overkill to bring that to spelldrive practice.
(I am of the opinion that Grim is amazing at magic but his energy doesn’t quite click with the modern way of spell casting. And I have a headcanon that casting spells required incantations that were written as fairy tales way before the modernization of magic. Long, elaborate things.)
So, why were you here when you can’t play in any spelldrive tournament? Well, technically you could with the way the rules are written but unfortunately they clearly favor magic users heavily. So really, you saw no point in participating whatsoever.
Anyways, to answer the question, it’s because of the ghosts. Grim was yapping your ear off about wanting to attend practice, muscles getting all tied up from disuse and whatever other excuse he has, but you only gave in when those three ghosts asked if they could play as well.
They’ve done you a number of favors, acting as both the Ramshackle cleaning crew and a makeshift security system. You respect them, so you’re willing to relent.
So, here you are, standing still on the field knowing full well you can’t touch the disk with your bare hands. Can’t exactly run cause what are you gonna do? May as well be a prop. That and you don’t want the damn disk to make another dent in your skull.
You’re still bitter over that.
“I got the disk, I got the disk!” And there goes Grim, running around in circles as the Savanaclaw team tried to get it out of his control. “Okay, how does it go again? Uh, ‘little flame born on a—’ Ah!”
He rolled just as Ruggie swept down on his broom to swipe at him. Grim kept the disc safe, somehow.
“Huh, what’s he doing?” The thin ghost floated over, tilting his head as Grim continued to grumble.
You crossed your arms. “Trying to remember a story I told him. Apparently it helps him with his spells.”
“Aren’t you going to help him?” And miss him flounder about?
“I’ll give him a minute.”
Eventually, when Grim face planted but still kept the disc tight to himself, he finally whined out. “Uh, can you help me?!”
You gave a thumbs up and projected your voice out. Grim followed suit.
“A little flame was born on a candle wick.
“A bright, brilliant sapphire spark that wanted nothing more than to light up the night.
“It wished to see the stars. It wished to become a star.”
It was a silly little story that popped into your head when you saw the way the flame in his ears flickered.
Grim dodged under, coughing out dirt from his mouth and continued repeating your story.
“It wished to been seen by all and have them be comforted by its strength and warmth.
“But how can it? Stuck to the little wick it was born from?
“All it can do with watch the sky through the window.”
Arrogant little Grim, never honest about his desires. Says he’s too good for anything and yet wants attention.
When Grim was far away enough from the chasing team, he planted his feet on the ground and turned to the goal.
“Worry not, little flame. You will shine in the eyes of so many others.
“Don’t dim yourself with your regrets.”
If he wants to be as brilliant as he wants to be, then he’ll have to work for it.
A pinprick of fire, a light blue spark that burned nearly white appeared in front of his mouth.
Leona, Ruggie and Jack were the fastest to try and close in on him, but all their ears collectively went stiff.
You snapped your fingers and they all ducked instinctively.
“Blaze with the strength of your wishes!”
A thread thin beam of light flashed for a moment before the path was engulfed in pure white flame. The disc was but a comet, flying and clipping the hairs of all the Savanaclaw members that barely managed to dodge. The disc hit the goal, flew right past it, and soared into the sky, leaving behind a glitter trail of dying embers.
Much like the story, the flame became a star, a loud, explosive one, if only for a few moments.
“Huh,” you were the first to break the silence, not at all shocked. “You’re getting better at that, Grim.”
“See that? You better be bowing to me now for my mercy!” Grim was just as chipper as ever. Actually, he’s even more happy now that he got to show that off.
Leona blinked at the sky, then sighed, “Ruggie, get another disc.”
Oh good, you don't have to pay for that.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst-drabbles#twst-drabbles exclusive#drabble#ramshackle#grim#janitor au#reader insert
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Whumptober #14
xxx feed me poison, fill me ‘til i drown
Fucking witches, Gabriel thinks bitterly as his hand darts to one of his many pockets, pulling out a small pouch. He dumps the magenta-colored powder into his palms, barely closing his fingers over it before he turns, opens his hand again, and blows. The three witches near him--nearly the last of them, thankfully--throw their hands up as if somehow that will block the effects of the pink dust; no such luck. All three of them turn on each other with unbridled aggression. He has to look away from the grisly scene. He’s searching for Nathan, trying to block out the snarls and screams, when it suddenly becomes very difficult to breathe.
He blinks a few times in rapid succession as he tries to inhale and his chest hitches, and his eyes go wide. He coughs harshly and it tastes like pennies. He does it again, and this time he coughs water out of his lungs. His hands go instinctively to his throat.
He can’t breathe.
He’s drowning.
There’s another witch.
He tries to spot whoever's doing it, desperately searching as he coughs and chokes and fails to draw a proper breath. He does see her, eventually, hiding at the treeline, but she’s far away, beyond the reach of his powders and dusts and he doesn’t think he’ll make it to her, not before it’s too late.
That doesn’t mean he won’t try.
He manages to lurch forward with heavy, uneven footfalls, only a few before he has to stop, doubling over as water spills from his mouth.
His vision is starting to go dark at the edges, chest aching, and he knows he'll be unconscious soon. He manages to find Nathan first, and it's almost as if the young witch feels his gaze because he looks over, locking eyes with Gabriel just as he doubles over, coughing up more water, a torrent of the stuff hitting the ground.
He looks nearly as frightened as Gabriel feels.
“Gabriel!” He doesn’t sound like himself, his voice warped with desperation, and with the fact that Gabriel is dying. “Hang on!”
Gabriel can’t gather the breath he needs to respond. Nathan has spotted the girl now, and is going toward her, and the hope only lasts a split second. His lungs feel like they’re going to burst, and the lack of oxygen has his head hurting so bad that he half expects it to split in two. He feels his knees hit the grass, and then the world tilts up to meet him and for a moment, everything starts to blur and fade. The noise, the fight, the pain…everything.
And then there’s nothing.
xxx
“Gabriel! Hang on!”
The alchemist is staring at him, looking terrified as he coughs up water, hands clutching at his throat.
Nathan barely has time to panic before the rage takes over.
It only takes him a second to spot the witch who’s doing it, can tell it’s her by the way she’s glaring at Gabriel, hands stretched out toward him while her fingers twist and curl, lips moving silently as she works the enchantment. She’s so focused that she doesn’t see Nathan coming. She doesn’t have a chance to fight back, just lets out a startled grunt as Nathan tackles her to the ground. It takes six blows to knock her unconscious.
He can feel the rage, turning his blood hot and his thoughts red, and that part of him wants very much to see this through, to keep punching until there’s nothing left. But the part of him that’s still him remembers that Gabriel needs his help. He’s on his feet in a second, whirling around as he searches for Gabriel. He doesn’t see him at first, and then his eyes travel down and his heart plummets.
“Gabriel!” He runs. His voice scrapes at his throat. “Gabriel! Gabriel!”
He lands on his knees hard enough that a normal person would have bruised. He doesn’t feel it. Gabriel’s face is pale, his lips gray, and Nathan thinks that even with everything he's been through, he's never been so afraid.
“What do I do?” He doesn’t know who he’s talking to, doesn’t expect an answer. His heart hammers, his bloodied hands trembling. “What the fuck do I do?”
Some part of him, something powered by pure instinct, moves his body before his mind even registers what he’s doing; one hand moves over the other, fingers lacing together, and he places the heel of his lower palm in the center of Gabriel’s chest.
Thirty. The thought comes from somewhere in the recesses of his mind, and he listens to it as he starts compressions, counting each one as he goes. One, two, three--and on, until he’s done thirty of them, and then he tilts Gabriel’s head back, pinching his nose shut. When he places his mouth over Gabriel’s, all he can think is how cool the man’s lips are, how unusually uninviting. Two breaths.
“Come on.”
Gabriel’s still not breathing.
“Come on, Gabriel.”
He laces his fingers.
“Please.” In time with the chest compressions. “Please, please, please.”
One breath, two.
Nothing.
“Come on, damn you!” Pleas become curses. He thinks he feels a rib crack. "Fuck you. Fuck you, Gabriel, fucking--fuck!"
Tears slip down his cheeks now as he once more places his mouth over Gabriel's.
He’s on his fourth round of compressions when Gabriel’s body shudders and he lets out a choking cough, water erupting from his mouth.
“Gab-Gabriel?” Nathan’s voice cracks with emotion, relief flooding him as he hurriedly rolls Gabriel onto his side. Gabriel curls in on himself, coughing violently as he expels water from his lungs. Nathan leans back, heart hammering, and he’s glad he’s already sitting because he’s not sure he’d’ve been able to stay on his feet. He puts his head in his hands. “Holy shit. Oh my god.”
“Nathan?” Nathan feels Gabriel’s hand on his arm. His voice is quiet and ragged and he’s breathing heavily. “Are…you okay? You’re…you’re shaking.”
Nathan looks up, wiping at the tears on his cheeks. “Am I okay? Fuck, Gabriel, you--you almost died! You almost--” A sob builds in his chest and he tries to hold it back but it bursts out anyway, a loud and messy thing that he might be embarrassed about if he weren’t already overwhelmed with a thousand other emotions.
“Hey!” Gabriel sits up slowly, grimacing a little. “I’m okay. Nathan…” He puts his hands on either side of Nathan’s face. “Look at me.” Nathan does, and Gabriel stares at him with those blue eyes of his. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
Nathan cries as Gabriel pulls him into a tight hug, pressing Nathan’s head into his chest and holding him there.
“I’m okay, Nathan,” he murmurs.
“Yeah, well,” Nathan manages to get out. “You’d better stay that way. Because I didn’t know what I was going to do without you.”
Gabriel plants a kiss on the top of his head. “I’ll do my best.”
xxx
#whumptober2023#no.14#water inhalation#half bad: the bastard son and the devil himself#half bad#fic#swearing cw#drowning#gabriel boutin#nathan byrn#gabriel x nathan#half bad fic#whumptober#my writing#my fic#whump#whump fic
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Sharpened Stones - Septic/Egotober Day 2
Tw: Panic Attack, Flasback
Egotober: Stone(sorta)
Septictober: Sharp Objects (Sorta)
Word count: 792
”I do think-“
“Henrik I'm fine I can go up and down the stairs just fine.”
Henrik gives Jack a Look that has him looking away.
“You need to take it easy, you are still recovering and-“
”Alright Alright I'll stay downstairs while you guys are gone.“ Trying to keep from sounding upset.
Henrik sighs, ”Look, Chase will back in a couple of hours, he's picking Angus up from the airport, just. If it weren't for Jackie you would have fallen yesterday.”
“That wasn't my fault!”
“I know, your legs gave out and that is the issue. You need to keep using your legs yes but I am begging you to use your cane and refrain from using the stairs.” Henrik tells him concerned.
“I know Marvin's potions are helping but they are not a cure all, you were-” Henrik takes a deep breath as he tries not to get upset further, he doesn't want to make Jack upset either but at this point it feels rather inevitable sometimes. He doesn't blame him it's just, frustrating.
“I'll be fine Henrik, I'll walk around down here and if I'm hungry I'll just grab something from the kitchen.” Jack assures.
Henrik still looks concerned before eventually caving and nodding.
”Alvight, Alvight. I'll leave you alone. Just, call one of us is something comes up, alvight?“
”Alright Alright, I'll be fine. Don't forget you have other patients to look after.“ Jack attempts to joke lightheartedly.
Henrik gives him a different Look.
”Jack, you are my brother, you are who I'm most concerned for.“ Henrik tells him softly.
Jack can't help but feel warm and nod a little.
”Now, I do need to go to work before I have to deal with Randy calling me.“
”Fuck he's still around? You'd like he'd retired by now.”
“Yes well he likes ruining my day, so I better go before I send him into an early grave. I love you, and remember to call if you need one of us.”
“I know, I know. I love you too, now go before Randy starts blowing up your phone.”
Henrik chuckles and nods, far more relaxed about leaving jack at home. “I'll see you soon.”
“See ya, and be safe!” Jack shouts after Henrik before falling into a coughing fit after the door closes.
Damn he's really pushing is voice right now. He imagines his asthma isn't too happy with him either.
He sits back and manages a few breaths before taking in the silence.
He hates it.
He was alone that night too, if Jackie hadn't come home and found him...
He shakes his head, wincing as his memories make his throat throb before turning on the TV to drown out his memories. It's his first time home alone since he woke up and he will not let the anxiety get to him.
It's a few hours later when Jack's stomach starts rumbling and he realizes he should probably get up and make himself something.
Grabbing the cane given to him by the hospital, he pushes himself off of the couch before slowly making his way to the kitchen.
He rummages through the cupboard first, going to grab a bag of chips before Henrik's words ring through his head, reminding him to eat healthy for at least the first few months. Jackie, Chase and Jameson still slip him some chips or candy bars when Henrik, Marvin or Jacques aren't paying attention or home but still.
He sighs before grabbing the oatmeal. Hopefully he'll remember it on the stove.
-
Good news! He did, bad news, he's forgotten where the spoons are.
He remembered them yesterday he knows he did, he remembers that he grabbed them just, not from where.
So now here he is, opening and closing draws as he tries to remember where before freezing dead is his tracks.
He stares at the drawer filled with the knives.
He swears he can feel his body painfully and forcefully glitching again as he stares at them and for a moment he swears one of them is coated with red.
And he knows it's not real. He knows it's not because they've replaced them after that night.
He slams the drawer shut as he stumbles back and into the dinning room table as he gasps for breath.
It feels like there are stones in his stomach as his appetite vanishes as he desperately tries to ground himself but he just can't.
He can feel the cold metal opening his throat when he couldn't even twitch a muscle. And then his voice, oh god it sounds like it’s right in his ear.
”Look at you!“
Chase and Angus come home hours later to find him passed out under the dining room table.
Hello! If you enjoy our work and wish to see more, including spoilers, cut scene's or replaced scene's feel free to join our discord!
And if you really enjoy our work and want/are able to help us out, feel free to buy us a ko-fi or send us somethin on paypal!
Taglist:
@malaboos-bodacious-blog @glitchyartist @brokentimewatch @secondary-objective-active @randowaffle @jselorekeeper
(are we supposed to tag the lorekeeper or am i being silly)
#egotober2023#henrik von schneeplestein#jse egos#jse egos fanfic#jse jack#Character!Jack#jacksepticeye#jacksepticeye egos#jse henrik#jse chase brody#jse chase#angus the survival hunter#our stuff#septictober#tw panic attack#tw flashbacks
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Feeding Alligators 22 - Swamp People
Rated M for language and violence (eventually for smut)(this puts the slow in slow burn).
On AO3.
Morning greets you hunched and miserable on your bedroll. Your hands tremble and your head aches even worse than usual. But that, at least, is from a known source: the six cups of tea you’ve had in the last three hours.
Gale’s chatting still makes sense, so you’ve got that going for you. Neither of you are sure how long it’ll hold, though.
Your tunic is, indeed, fucked beyond all saving. You’re glad Shadowheart helped you out of your stays before you fell asleep.
Your head buzzes when you stand. You have to walk carefully over to seat yourself properly in front of the fire, closer to where Gale putzes around with breakfast. Some kind of eggs thing. You’re both insanely wired, and insanely head-empty exhausted. It’s a peculiar blend that means you spend all of breakfast quiet and by yourself. You rouse only long enough to glare at Astarion when he emerges, fucking chipper as hell. Bastard.
Once everyone has downed their eggs and potato hash, and are taking a moment before gearing up, you say, “Thank y’all. For, y’know, not letting me die.”
“So long as it doesn’t happen again,” Shadowheart says, glancing over to where Astarion has plonked down on his pile of pillows with a book.
“I’m just sorry it came to that,” Gale says, again. And then he piles more food onto your plate and gives you a look.
You take a few bites—using your hands, because silverware is too slow. He seems really caught in that net, and his guilt makes you feel guilt and you know how vicious this cycle can get. You’re bemoaning the need for another outrageously expensive tunic when the idea strikes.
You’ve been pretty quiet and pretty serious around the others, for the most part (Astarion being the exception, because the bastard has a way of getting under your skin) (the irony of that thought is not lost to you). They still seem fine with you. Haven’t kicked you out or made you feel small or stupid. Hell, they were ready to force Astarion out when they thought he mauled you in the night. Maybe you can let that facade crack a little. Maybe you can test the waters.
“So you’uns knew about the whole vampire thing and didn’t tell me,” you say, keeping your voice level.
Shadowheart chews her food. Looks to Gale. Who coughs into his hand.
“I wasn’t, ah, entirely sure how you would react,” he says. “If you could keep a secret.”
He hems and haws. You have a pretty good idea what he wants to say next, and trade a look with Shadowheart. Neither of you bail him out.
“Or that you could, if we’re being strictly honest, could contribute in a fight should it come to that,” he finally manages. Bless his little heart.
You nod and chew. “So you let me be the bait.”
Ooh, that’s a wince. You don’t want to push it too far, though.
“As I said, I take full responsibility. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it, you only need to ask.”
You hum. Can feel Shadowheart’s full attention. “Anything?”
Gale blinks. Frowns. “I may have left that statement too open to interpretation.”
“How about an ‘I’m sorry’ in the form of twenty gold pieces?” you say. Which was enough to buy your currently ruined tunic. The one you owed Gale for.
He looks at you, and the Dread starts to writhe in your guts. You pushed it too far. Were too demanding and obnoxious and arrogant. Been too much again.
Then he chuckles. Lifts his eyebrows. “A clever dealmaker, you are. I believe I find that more than fair, good lady. Would you like the payment in coin, or shall I simply forget about your tab?”
“Tab, please.”
And just like that, you’re free of debt. And you get to watch Shadowheart smile. If she were less reserved, or if it was a thing in Faerun, you’re pretty sure you could give her a high five.
“That’s the spirit!” Astarion hollers from across camp because he’s got fucking super hearing. “Always press your advantage!”
“You would know!” you holler back. Asshole.
Still. There’s warmth in your chest for the first time since you woke up on the butthole ship. The first, baby shoots of tentative connection to these people. If you’re careful, if you nurture this and nothing goes wrong, you might be able to grow this into—maybe, possibly—potential friendship? Hopefully you’re not reaching too far there.
***
So of course things go immediately wrong.
The swamp is nice. Full of light and flowers and frogs. No leeches, and more shockingly, no snakes. There’s even some sheep roaming around for some reason. You find one standing in the path. Only once you get close, you catch how the thing moves. It’s wrong. A weird jittering, discombobulated tremor. That thing is seriously diseased.
The sheep looks at you. It bah’s.
And that is the most fucked up sound you’ve ever heard come from an animal. Something is desperately wrong. The tadpole in your brain jigs like a worm on a hook, and you’re pretty sure it bites your optical nerve. Because after your skull lights up in pain, the swamp warps.
No sunlight or butterflies here. It’s entirely gray and green, hazy and reeking of death and methane. And that’s not a goddamn sheep, but some ugly fucking gnome or something, standing there, staring at you with beady eyes and needle teeth.
“Uh,” you say. You don’t think it realizes you can see it. So you do the only thing you can think of, and go “baaah” back.
You catch Astarion’s little giggle from the back of the group.
The fugly gnome scowls and spits (literally sprays) a louder, “Baaahhh!” before stomping off. Leaving y’all ankle deep in muck and flies.
“Everyone else saw that, right?” you say.
“Only too well,” Gale says.
Then the wind shifts and something reeks.
***
The man is alone. Pointy beard, long hair braided on the sides. The stink roils off him. He slows as y’all near, and stops outright when he catches glimpse of all y’all. His hands are empty, but the butt of a crossbow peeks over his shoulder.
“Hello there,” he says. Lifts a hand in greeting. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else around these parts.”
You try to nod and wave while not breathing. He must notice the struggle, though, because the corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile. “Sorry about the smell. Powdered ironvine. Helps any monsters to think twice before taking a bite out of me.”
“A monster hunter,” Astarion says, suddenly at your side. He gives the man a look over, and his nose wrinkles in disgust. “And a Gur.”
He’s usually, well, polite isn’t the right word. But more subdued to people he thinks are a waste of his time—he spends that time stealing pillows from refugees, apparently. You’ve never seen him so upfront about his hostility before. At least not directly to someone’s face.
“Gur?” you say.
“Oh, the absolute worst,” the man says. “We sneak in during the night to spoil your crops, sour your milk, and steal away your daughters.”
“And here I thought you merely settled for being vagrants and cutthroats,” Astarion says.
You shoot him a what the fuck look. This all sounds depressingly familiar.
The man sighs. The eye crinkles smooth a bit, but don’t disappear entirely. “I wish I had half the power settled folk think my people possess. Alas, I’m a simple wanderer and monster hunter. No cutthroats here. My name is Gandrel.”
Astarion still hasn’t lost his sneer. Pretty rich, him getting so snobby about this random guy when y’all’s party had a secret vote on whether to kick him out or kill him.
“You hunting a swamp monster?” you say. Because y’all are, in fact, in the middle of a swamp. And Faerun has demonstrated quite painfully that there are literal monsters that will literally bite you.
Astarion gasps theatrically. Even covers his mouth with the tips of his fingers. “Oh, it must be something terrifying, darling. A dragon? Cyclops? Kobold?”
Why does that last one have a tone? And why the hell is he being such an ass?
“Nothing so dramatic I’m afraid,” Gandrel says. “I’m hunting a vampire spawn. His name is Astarion.”
The words slap all thought out of your head. You stand there and your hands begin to tingle. Turn just enough to make out how very calm Astarion looks. In face, that is. His right hand hitches up towards the knife at his belt. His grin has gone all brittle around the edges. The man is practically vibrating. Then he looks to you. And there’s a question in his eyes. One tinged with worry.
“I fear he’s gone to ground,” Gandrel says, completely oblivious to the internal cataclysm he’s just caused. “I hope the hag of these lands can flush him out. If I can afford her blood price, that is.”
You’re so tired. The weak tea caffeine is a flimsy barrier between you and crushing exhaustion. You can feel it closing in, squeezing all around you like a submarine at too great a depth. The exhaustion searching for some weakness, the tiniest crack to crush you.
“Hag?” you say. When in doubt, make people explain.
A rustle as Lae’zel shifts behind you. She’s angling to get a clear shot between her and the man without taking you out in between.
“You’ve never heard of a hag?” Gandrel says.
“I was really sheltered.”
“Ah, I see.” His face says he clearly does not. But he goes along with it. “Terrible creatures, hags. Very powerful, and very cunning. You’d best steer clear of this one. I would leave myself, if I weren’t truly desperate.”
“Why would you be so intent on a vampire spawn?” Astarion says.
“Orders from the headwoman of my tribe.”
You wouldn’t notice Astarion’s twitch if he wasn’t right beside you. The sneering, biting Astarion is gone. He’s been replaced with what you’re beginning to suspect is his favorite mask: casual confidence papering over intense wariness.
“You here to kill him?” you say.
You feel Astarion’s glance burning the side of your face. He left you high and dry last night. Didn’t even apologize this morning. The group has already demonstrated how willing they are to cast him out, and the last thing y’all need right now is more trouble.
Gandrel shakes his head, though, another, easy chuckle on his lips. “Not this time, no. I’m here to capture, not to kill.”
“And bring him where, exactly?” Astarion says.
“Baldur’s Gate. My people wait for me there.”
Everyone has a life outside of this shitshow. Families and friends, cultural networks and enemies and histories. And a tribal man, a hunter, is dispatched specifically for Astarion.
“Please, there’s no need to be so alarmed,” Gandrel says, mistaking y’all’s tension for an entirely different kind. “At least not during daylight hours. We’re safe enough for now. But do know this: though a spawn is weaker than its master, that’s only in comparison to a true horror. Come sundown, you couldn’t seek out a more dangerous quarry. They’re vicious, starving creatures with the full intelligence of a thinking creature. You would do well to take this threat seriously.”
“Indeed, they are,” Astarion says. His voice has gone all silky in a way that lifts the hairs on the back of your neck and sends alarm bells clanging. “We should do something about this threat.”
He’s going to kill this guy.
You are bone-achingly exhausted. Maybe a minute or two from sitting right down in the mud and conking out whether you want to or not. Your eyeballs feel dry, and you have to keep blinking just to keep them open. You do not have anything in you for some stupid fight with this man.
And this Gandrel has a tribe, has a headwoman. Those might not mean the same things as where you come from, but they strike close enough to home. You do not want to see this man dead.
You smile at Astarion in your best PTA mom-supervising-a-toddler benevolence. And it’s enough that his eyes narrow.
“We’ll trust you to take first watch,” you say. “In case the threat wanders to our camp.”
Not here, you’re trying to say. Not at all, unless he actually comes after you.
“See that you do,” Gandrel says. “The wilds can be exceptionally dangerous, even without spawn on the loose.”
“Thank you.” You angle yourself between him and Astarion. Hope that can soothe Astarion’s ruffled feathers enough he doesn’t start anything. “We need to be going. But good luck with that hag. Don’t give her your hair or your teeth, yeah?”
Because a hag sounds a lot like a witch, and not the White people pagan kind.
Gandrel smiles again and nods.
“What?” Astarion says far too loud for your liking. “That’s it? We’re just walking away?”
“Unless you’re volunteering to go with him? Watch his back and all? He’s got his own business to deal with, and it sounds like it’ll be nasty. We’ll all be careful.”
He settles into a glower. His jaw works a few times. The, “Fine. But if this comes back to bite us, it’ll be on your head.”
“Go in peace, my friends,” Gandrel says. Gives you a look you know, a sort of recognition. “I’ll be sure to keep my hair. I pray our paths cross again in good luck and good bounty.”
“They better bloody not,” Astarion says. This time quiet enough that you don’t think Gandrel—who appears to be human—catches it.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#astarion#astarion x tav#fanfic#it's a goddamn isekai#i'm not sorry#no betas we die like men#feeding alligators fic#tavstarion#slow burn#plus size tav#demisexual tav#dumbasses#they're doing their best
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Western Nights (Part 1) | Spike Spiegel x Reader
Genre : Angst, Romance, Runaway
Warning(s) : Swearing, Violence, Stalking, Blood, Kidnapping.
Summary : You’re on the run from your small town. Freeing yourself of your religious cult, or so you thought as you caught news they were hunting after you. As you’re on your escape, you run into Spike Spiegel, and once push led to shove you knew you’d never be the same.
Note : This is somewhat inspired by Ethel Cain’s album, Preacher’s Daughter. However it won’t follow that story, just the religious aspects of it. I suggest giving it a listen! It’s a masterpiece.
You had been on the run for what seemed like forever. Long enough to have made it from Nebraska to Texas. Gas stations were your best friend. Only the ones with showers for travelers. You had been saving up money for over a year now to make this bold move, and paying for a stay in a hotel would’ve zapped it all in 3 days.
You found a train station that had tickets straight to California. That’s where you always wanted to go, but the ticket would cost half of your money. Being left with $100 to survive on after getting there didn’t sound very…appealing or manageable. Then again after phoning your friend Nathanial and finding out that people from that cult were hunting you down and planned on hanging you upon bringing you back there, sounded a lot less appealing.
You bit the bullet. “One ticket to California please.” You asked the lady in the booth. You coughed up the money. “The next train won’t be here until 10:30 tonight toots.” The lady spoke, her voice was raspy probably due to all the cigarettes she smoked.
You looked up at the clock…it was only 12:00 in the afternoon. You groaned as you sat down in the lobby with the few belongings you brought with you. You sat back on the wooden bench seating, staring at the grey, cracked ceiling. The place had dim florescent lighting, in reality the sun beaming through the windows did more than the lights themselves.
You couldn’t help but find a strange sense of serenity in it, and sighed. The feeling of being alone was scary yet satisfying at the same time. Nobody to tell you who you should be, but nobody to tell you everything is going to be ok either. Except yourself. You learned a lot about yourself on this journey so far. After everything you’d been through, finally felt content with yourself despite being totally alone. Sure there were people hunting you down, but they always thought you wanted to go to Florida. If anything they’d just lead themselves on the complete opposite end of the country and give up. You realized you could be a lot smarter than what you gave yourself credit for.
Your thoughts eventually blurred together leading you to feel drowsy, passing out on your bag next to you. You weren’t sure how much time went by before getting woken up by a poke on the shoulder. A man with messy black, green tinted hair stood in front of you. As you looked around, you noticed the place had suddenly filled up. Your eyes got a glimpse of the clock…2:00, dammit. You sat up and grabbed your bag, yawning. “Good nap?” The man asked with a slight smile on his face. “Decent.” You responded through another yawn. The man chuckled and spoke once again. “Mind if I take this seat next to you?” You sat your bag on the floor beside you, allowing him to sit. “Not like you had any other options.” You replied, giggling a bit yourself. He shrugged and sat down next to you. “There were some other options, but you seemed like the most pleasant person to sit next to.” He smiled and looked over at you. “So where are you headed?” He inquired. “Somewhere.” You responded dully. You weren’t sure why he’d come be so friendly with you, but your paranoia spiked in this moment. You didn’t want to risk anything at all.
He raised an eyebrow at your response. “Well…I’m headed to California. On my journey to the west! My name’s Spike, by the way. Spike Spiegel.” He shot you a big smile. You smiled back at him. “Y/N. I’m headed to California too.” You weren’t sure why you told him that. Your paranoid mind told you no, but something in your gut spoke for you. He seemed trustworthy. He’d find out you were going to the same place when you boarded the train anyway, so it really didn’t matter if you’d told him or not. Might as well be friendly.
“You know…our train doesn’t get here for another 7 hours.” He said with the hint of an idea in his voice. You hadn’t even realized you both had been talking for an hour straight. “Why don’t we go to the café downtown? It’s only about a 10 minute walk there.” Spike suggested. “Why not. It’s better than sitting and staring at the wall.” You sighed and stood up. As you both walked for the door, Spike sped up and opened it for you. “After you.” He said with cheesy grin on his face. “What a gentleman.” You weren’t as amused as he was, and all he did was laugh.
“So, what set your sights on California?” Spike asked you as you both were walking down the brick sidewalk of the small down. Small business to window shop in littered the path to the Cafe, and it was times like these you wish you had more money. “To get away from my small town back in Nebraska.” Spike raised his eyebrow at your response. “Too small of a town for your liking or what?” He inquired. “To get away from the religion I was brought up in. It was cultish and there really wasn’t any other way out then to get shunned out of town, or get murdered before you got shunned. I’d been planning this for years.” You take a deep breath before letting out a deep sigh. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this. I just met you.” You stared at the ground, a feeling of guilt washing over you for suddenly dumping all this on the stranger who was starting to feel like less of one.
A look of concern washed over Spike’s face. “Don’t apologize, really! If everyone in your town is like that I doubt you’ve really had the chance to get any of this off your chest to anyone without the fear of it coming back to bite you in the ass later.” He paused for a second, then suddenly his concern turned into shock. “Okay so wait. You ran all the way here to Texas from Nebraska?” All you did was nod, gesturing towards your backpack. “Wow...you’re a really strong willed person. I admire that.” He grinned. For the first time in your life, you felt like someone actually meant what they said about you. For you, and not some fake persona you put up to survive. “I really appreciate that.” Your voice seeped of a deep feeling of gratitude. You smiled back at him, and right after that you were walking up a small set of steps. You had made it to the Cafe. “After you.” Spike held the door open for you again. “Thanks.” You smiled at him again as you walked in.
“Spike! It’s great to see you again!” The girl standing in front of the cash register shouted. It made you feel a lot more at ease about Spike considering people in the community liked him. Normally that would be a bad thing. Preacher’s usually were held to high esteem back in your town but were the most evil people in the town, but Spike was obviously a free spirited person. Free spirits that are well-liked are typically amazing people, or whatever that book you read back at home said.
“Tabitha!” Spike called out. “Always a pleasure to see you too.” He smiled. “I’ll just get my usual. And whatever my new friend here wants.” He motioned to you and pointed at the menu. “I’ll just get the plain black coffee. It’s cheaper.” You spoke to the bubbly girl taking your order. “Don’t worry about the price, it’s on me.” Spike spoke up. “No. I appreciate it but I’ll pay for my own.” You attempted to convince him, but it really wasn’t any use. “You worked so hard to get here. At the very least you deserve whatever coffee you want. I’ve got plenty of money right now. I insist” He wasn’t going to give this up. “Fine I’ll get the cinnamon latte.” You quietly spoke. “Now that’s more like it.”
He gave his signature cheesy grin and a thumbs up. You’d known him for what...4 hours now? Yet you already were familiar with one of his expressions. You’ve always loved cinnamon. It was a flavor that brought a strange sense of comfort to you, and you really needed comfort more than ever.
As you both sat down at a table to wait on your coffee, your paranoia was rising for some reason at this moment, and it was written all over your face. “Everything okay?” Spike questioned. He read you like a book. “One thing I didn’t mention is I got word that people from my town were looking for me. I’m just nervous they’ll somehow follow my trail and find me. Apparently they want me dead.” You whispered. He nodded in understanding, and nothing could’ve prepared you for his next words. “Even if they do find you, I won’t let them take you. Trust me.” He looked serious about this. “I might not know you that well yet, but I’ll be damned if I miss the chance to get to know you better. Not only that, but I won’t allow you to go back there to die when you’ve only just started living.” You felt a weird sense of relief somewhat wash over you. You were still on alert, but his words made you feel safe.
“I...wow. Thank you, if you really do mean that I’ll make sure I pay you back for this someday.” He chuckled at your response. “You wanna know how you can pay me back, yeah? Live and enjoy your life once you’re free from all this. That’s the only payment I need.” As Tabitha brought your coffee and you sipped on it, the mixture of the taste of cinnamon and Spike’s words made your eyes sting with tears. Your parents always warned you about strangers, claiming anyone not in the religion was trouble. If Spike was trouble, then trouble you’d get yourself into.
The bell ringing from the door of the cafe interrupted your thoughts. A woman in all white, wearing a golden cross necklace walked in. Standing next to a man in a white suit, wearing the same necklace. You felt yourself get nauseous. You stared into Spike’s eyes with panic. “What’s u-” You cut him off by shushing him. “They’re looking for me. I know them.” You whispered in a panic. Luckily where you were both sat, you weren’t immediately visible upon walking in. “What do we do?” You were clearly shaken up, not really able to think. “Do you trust me?“ Spike whispered. You didn’t totally trust him yet, but it was either trust him or risk using your own thinking, which wasn’t really rational right now. “Yes.” You responded, and he nodded. He stood up, throwing his coat over him and motioning you to stand in next to him.
He untied a string and it dropped the rest of the jacket. Was this guy a spy or something? It covered your legs, and he pulled you in close to him. You were hidden by just a piece of fabric in a dream. You prayed this would go well, but quickly realized how ironic that thought was. “Hey Tabitha! I’m ready for my shift. Where should I hang my coat up?“ You saw Spike wink, and Tabitha got the hint. “Just take it in the back!” She responded, as she then greeted the two people you desperately were trying to avoid. Spike walked into the back and left you back there as he put an apron on, making sure he blended into the role until they left. He gave you a brief hug and whispered, “It’ll be okay,” before walking back up into the front. You awkwardly sat in the back as you eavesdropped.
“Have either of you seen this person on the side of this milk carton? This is my cousin.” The posh lady spoke up. You knew she was talking about you. “I haven’t. I’m so sorry.” Tabitha spoke up. “Well, someone saw them come in here today...” The posh man spoke up. “We asked someone, and they swore up and down...” He was gritting his teeth. “Well I hate to break it to you, but even if this person was here today, they’re gone by now.” Spike had a stern tone in his voice. “And you won’t speak to us like that.” You heard the two looking for you gasp. “Who are you to speak to us in such a fashion?” The woman spoke. “The same person who’s kicking you out of this cafe for talking to us the same way. Scram.” Spike demanded.
You heard Tabitha gasp. You hated not being able to see what was going on up there. “You’ll learn not to speak to us like that again boy.” The man spat. “Go ahead and pull the trigger. We’ll see what God thinks of that.” Spike retorted. You felt sick to your stomach hearing a gun got pulled. “Let’s see who meets him first.” You peeked and saw Spike holding a gun to the man now. It was a stand off. “What’s the sour face for?” Spike taunted. “Do it. I fucking dare you.” Right before the man fired his gun, Spike ducked and popped back up, putting a bullet between the man’s eyes. The woman with him screamed. Luckily for them, nobody else was in the cafe. She bolted out of the cafe and a car screeched down the road. “The coast is clear.” Spike called out to you. Tabitha was locking up the cafe doors. “We’ll need to clean this up somehow.” Her breathing was all over the place. It was as intriguing to you as it was odd that Spike was calm. Blood was all over the floor.
After what felt like hours of cleaning, there was no sight blood had even been here. Tabitha said she “knew a guy” who could take care of the body for them, and so you and Spike made your way back to the train station. “How were you so calm during all of that?” You blurted out. “Inside I was a nervous wreck, I just know how to not show it.” Spike sighed. “In reality I’m still shaken up too, but hey. Better him than you, right?” He patted you on the back.
One hour was left until the train would be arriving. You had fallen asleep again, Spike allowing you to use his shoulder as a pillow. The nap was short-lived however, Spike was waking you up. “Hey, it’s time to board the train. Sit next to me, yeah?” He smiled. You weren’t going to leave his side now. He just killed for you. It would be downright cruel to tell him no.
He let you sit on the inside next to the window. It was dark out, but you still stared out of the window at all the dimly lit sights. “Hey...I’ve got a question for you.” Spike broke the silence. “What is it?” You turned around and looked at him. “Wanna go see the west with me?” He smiled at you as he asked. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean.” You responded awkwardly. “What I mean is why not come travel with me? Stick by each other’s side, you know? After everything that happened today, something doesn’t feel right making this train ride the last time we see each other.” He looked down at the floor for a minute before looking back up at you, staring into your eyes.
Your shaken up mind was screaming no, but your heart and gut were telling you to accept his offer. After a life of listening to your mind, it was time to start listening to your gut and your heart. Those were the things that gave you the nerve to run away in the first place. If you listened to your mind, you’d still be in Nebraska.
You nodded as you spoke, not breaking eye contact with the man who had proven himself to you as someone you could trust. I mean, come on. He did just kill someone for you. “I agree. I can’t imagine this just being some one off moment with a stranger after everything that just...happened.” He smiled, not one of his cheesy ones, but a soft one. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m looking forward to getting to know you even more.” You both stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds longer before chuckling awkwardly, turning to look back out of the window. You felt yourself getting sleepy, and as your head fell back to your seat, Spike caught you with his arm, gently moving you to lean against his shoulder instead. Eventually he let out a yawn, his head resting on top of yours as you both fell asleep on the train ride to California.
After two days of travel, Spike was once again waking you up. You’d finally arrived in California. You sprung awake in excitement and held onto Spike’s arm. You didn’t really seem to realize you’d been doing it, and he didn’t really seem to mind, so you both walked off the train like this. “We’re actually here I can’t believe it!” You squealed. Spike led you both to a place to rent a car, then soon after pulled up to a hotel. After checking in, you both went up to your room. Two queen sized beds and finally some good air conditioning. You hadn’t slept on a bed in weeks, but you were too excited to sleep right now. “Can we go and explore?” You asked him. He happily nodded and you both ran out into the town, admiring all the city lights. However the part of you that explored back home kicked in and managed to find a quiet spot on a trail. You sat down, and Spike sat next to you. Staring up at the stars.
“Look at those starts, it’s like they make a rose.” You were in awe at how pretty the sky was here too, just like back at home. “That one looks like a lion.” Spike chuckled. You both sat and admired the stars for hours, talking about whatever came to mind. Neither of you knew when it happened, but Spike’s arm was around you and you were leaning into him. “I finally feel like I’m living.” You sighed out in a relived and content way. “That’s what I like to hear.” He pulled you into him a little closer and you both kept soaking in the beautiful night sky above you.
#spike spiegel x reader#spike x reader#spike spiegel x you#cowboy bebop fanfiction#cowboy bebop fanfic#spike spiegel fanfic#spike spiegel fanfiction#ethel cain#spike spiegel
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L’histoire secrète de la mer /// Chapter 3
Here we are again! I'll post more tomorrow, but have this for now. Enjoy! x
Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.
Tags: Fili x oc/reader - Kili x oc (for this POV fic visit my navigation) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield
Word Count: 805
Warnings: Descriptions of Panic Attacks, Drowning, and falling from a height, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries
Taglist - comment or message to be added!
PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U
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Soon available on Wattpad and AO3
< Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 >
PART 1: Chapter 3 -
Though there be fury on the waves,
Throughout time, it was believed that bridges were gateways to other realms and dimensions, and this is what some people believed supernatural creatures such as ghosts used to cross into the world of the living.
I couldn’t breathe.
And I was panicking.
My mouth gaped open and shut, trying to take a breath in, but air was replaced with liquid.
Liquid.
I can’t swim.
It flowed into my lungs, and I felt myself choke as I forced my eyes open.
Nothing but pitch black was before me. My eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness, looking for a shape, outline, anything that would give me some sort of indicator as to where I was, but to no avail. I flailed my arms about, but they were slowed to a sluggish pace, as if I was underwater.
But I didn’t fall over the edge of the bridge? I definitely would’ve remembered the fall, and the painful impact of hitting the water surface from the height I was at. I continued looking around, wondering if I had been dragged into an underwater cavern, but the chances of one appearing near a waterfall was highly unlikely, especially one that was so far down that light couldn’t reach at all.
I kicked my legs this time, only to be met with the same results. Nothing.
But what was really freaking me out, was the fact that I wasn’t drowning. No searing pain in my chest, no impending sense of doom. Well, maybe the last one a little bit.
I floated there for what felt like hours, reaching out every now and then to see if I could feel something, but, like before, there was nothing. I swayed about at one point, racking my brain to try and recall the techniques Kate had hastily tried to teach me so I didn’t die in the sea in France.
Kicking about, I eventually felt relief wash over me as I managed to find a rhythm, and pushed forwards into the void. A lifetime passed, but then something touched my hand.
Jerking back, I choked on water again as my panic came rushing back. I waited to see if it followed, but when nothing happened, I reached out again. I flinched as my hand brushed against something, but as I reached further, my hand went straight through it. A force pressed on my hand, forcing my fingers apart and I had to stiffen my wrist so it wouldn’t bend backwards.
A current.
At least I thought it was one. Pushing until my arm was almost fully submerged, I tried to feel for the other side, but to no avail. I went to pull my limb out, only to be jerked forwards into the fast flowing water.
I spiralled around aimlessly, the force of the current having its way chucking me about as I tried to push my arms out to steady myself as I was dragged away, trying to fight the dizziness that swept over me.
In a final attempt, I threw my arm out, only to be met with air. Feeling the wind brush over my soaked skin, I desperately kicked until my head emerged. I gasped, gulping in the fresh air before coughing and vomiting up the water in my lungs.
I went to pry myself from the pitch black water-prison, when the world spun. Like it was literally spinning, until I felt my hair fall away from my face, and I figured I was upside down.
A beat passed, then gravity gave way. I let out a scream as I left the body of water, and was able to hear myself this time, the shrill sound echoing all around me as I descended further through the empty void.
The strangest feeling passed over me. The I heard another echo. A scream, but it wasn’t mine. Tears escaped my eyes as the wind ripped past me as I fell further and further into nothing, but I was still accompanied by the other scream.
My speed only increased the more I fell, the roaring air rushing around me as I cried out in fear, praying that this wasn’t purgatory. But to my luck and surprise, everything began to change.
The air became considerably lighter, and colder, until a light began to fill my vision. My eyes soon adjusted, and I was able to make out dark, rolling, grey clouds below me, flashing with lightning. The sound of thunder wasn’t very promising, though, and my relief didn’t stick around for long, packing up its bags and sprinting out the door the second I realised where I was.
Ignoring the fact that I had recently vomited and had stomach acid burning my throat, I began a screaming match between me and the rapidly approaching ground, having now passed the thunderstorm blanket.
Through the remaining daylight, I looked to see where I was to land, and made out a small body of water below.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake’ I thought. ‘Just what I needed.’ Before I hit the surface. Hard.
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You're Gonna be Okay
Summary: Spy is dying. Lucky for him, Engie's got a backup plan.
Probably obvious from the summary but Content Warning for major character death. It's temporary though.
~
It had only been a matter of time before Spy’s old enemies caught up to him. Though he could’ve delayed it for a while longer at least if he’d moved on when he’d originally intended to. So really he was partially at fault for this and his own impeding death.
He’d killed the bastards though so at least vengeance was his. Sort of anyway. The people who’d sent the assassins after him would be unaffected by their deaths. In fact they’d likely be happy because the job got done and they’d only had to pay the upfront fee.
With a groan, Spy pushed himself up. He wasn’t going to die lying on the floor like a dog. Blood bubbled up in his throat, making him pause and hold a hand to bloodied chest as he fought the urge to cough. Breathing already hurt enough by itself without adding that in. Once the worst of the urge had passed, he resumed crawling. Pathetic but he lacked the strength to stand.
Luckily the motel room was fairly small, making the trip over to the bed a short one. How was he going to get up on it though? … He couldn’t.
Instead he leaned back against it, facing the bodies of his assailants. All three of them were dead with a clean shot through the head. Impeccable work especially since after he’d called their bluff on him being allowed to live if he cooperated and took down the first one, the other two had fired on him. The fact that he’d managed to get in two more clean head shots despite that was something to be proud of. Hopefully when Engie arrived he’d take a moment to be impressed before…
As if summoned by the thought, the door burst open. Engie stepped in, his shotgun raised and ready to fire. He was breathing a bit heavy; presumably he’d been close enough to hear the gunshots and started running over to investigate.
It only took him a few seconds to take the in scene and lower the gun. “Spy, you okay?”
“Not particularly.”
“How bad is it?”
Spy took a breath to answer but the coughing fit he’d fought off earlier came back to hit him. It hurt even more than he’d thought it would, making him double over as his body tried in vain to expel the blood filling his lungs.
By the time he managed to get himself more under control, a familiar metal hand rested on his shoulder. He leaned into it as he looked at Engie now crouched down beside him. Despite being on vacation he still wore his hardhat – he’d seemed to have developed a thing about it – but he’d left his goggles off, making the concern on his face easy to read.
“I don’t think I’ll make it out of this one,” Spy managed to force out. They were way to far away from Medic to be able to rely on him to pull another life saving miracle out of his ass. “I apologize for ruining our getaway.”
Engie scowled. “Nope, nuh-uh. I ain’t letting you die like this.”
“There’s nothing you can do, mon cher.It’s okay though, it was bound to happen eventually.” And now that Engie was here it was actually okay. Spy didn’t want to die but if he had to do so anyway, he wanted to do it in Engie’s arms. “Could you… put me on the bed and sit with me?”
Without replying, Engie shifted to pick him up. He was gentle about it but it still hurt. Though the fresh stab of pain pushed back the nothingness starting to eat at the edges of Spy’s vision so it was welcome even if it couldn’t push it all the way away.
Engie carefully placed Spy on the bed, leaning back slightly against the pillows they’d stacked up against the headboard that morning. “I ain’t letting you die like this,” he said again. Unfortunately for both of them, this was one problem he couldn’t brute force his way into fixing not matter how stubborn he wanted to be about it.
Spy took his flesh hand into both of his, smearing blood on it but Engie wouldn’t mind. “I love you.” He didn’t say so often as he should so it as important he do so now. “Please sit with me.”
“I love you too but I can’t just sit here and let you…” He cut off with a gasp as something seemed to occur to him. He carefully freed his hand from Spy’s weak grip. He moved it up to finger at the edge of Spy’s mask instead. For a moment he seemed like he intended to rip it off but stopped himself. “Can I?”
Spy had intended to show him his face during this vacation and now that it had been brought up he’d like Engie to see it before he died instead of after so… “Sure.”
Carefully and using only his flesh hand, Engie pulled back the mask, his hand shaking slightly. He paused once he had it off, staring at Spy’s face for several seconds before averting his gaze. After placing it on the nightstand, he then reached up and took off his hardhat. He looked at and messed with the inside of it a bit before turning his attention back onto Spy and putting it on his head for some reason.
“Why?” Spy asked.
“It’s hard to explain, especially with how little time we got, but you’re gonna be okay… if it works anyway. Which I think it will but…” He shrugged.
What kind of invention had he put in his hat that he thought had a chance of saving Spy’s life? Whatever it was didn’t seem to be working as Spy’s strength continued to fade, seemingly speeding up. Engie finally sat down with him though, making it hard to care as much as he instead leaned into him.
For a long time Spy had been afraid of death. But this really wasn’t so bad. Even the pain was starting to fade. He still had many regrets but in the past few years he’d pulled things together somewhat, more than he ever would’ve thought he could. He could go peacefully.
~
He woke to the sight of Engie’s workshop. Or more accurately the ceiling of Engie’s workshop. He lay on his back upon the workbench. Not his first time in such a position but usually he was looking up at Engie on top of him and often at least a little bit intoxicated as fucking on a table wasn’t something he often put up with while sober. He’d never fallen asleep on it though so what was he doing waking up on it?
And hadn’t he just been dying on a motel bed multiple day’s drive away from the base? Or had the been a dream? If so, it had certainly been a very vivid one.
Carefully he sat up. He didn’t have a headache though or anything else to suggest he’d been any kind of intoxicated. In fact, he felt great. Not a single ache anywhere in his body. When was the last time he’d woken up feeling like that? Especially after apparently sleeping on a wooden table.
Engie sat in his chair next to the workbench, sleeping. It was leaned back far enough to where it folded out into more of a lounge chair. The bags under his eyes, the several days worth of stubble, and his general disheveled appearance reinforced the idea that something had happened. Time had passed since Spy had lain dying in that motel room.
Clearly Engie had done something. He’d told Spy he was gonna be okay if whatever he’d done with his hat worked. Seemingly it had but what was it?
With as tired as Engie looked Spy normally would’ve put a blanket over him and left him to sleep. But Spy needed answers that he didn’t want to wait for. Afterwards he’d usher Engie into a proper bed where he should be able to sleep better anyway.
Spy turned himself to sit on the edge of the workbench before sliding off to his feet. He reached out a hand, intending to place it on Engie’s shoulder and give him a slight shake but froze at the sight of it instead.
It was the same as Engie’s mechanical hand. His other hand was too. Looking down at himself was disorienting. Nothing about his body looked right. It was all off.
“Engie?” He said as he looked up again. Even his voice was off too though. “Dell!” He reached out a hand to shake Engie’s shoulder at last, more roughly than he’d intended but he was staring to freak out a little.
With a snort, Engie woke. His hand snapped up to grasp Spy’s wrist – it should’ve hurt as it was his mechanical hand and it was tight, but it didn’t – before he’d even opened his eyes all the way. Once his gaze found Spy though, he let go with a gasp. “Spy? That really you?”
“Yes, of course it’s me. What’s going on? The last thing I remember is dying in a motel room after getting shot in the chest and now I’m here. And my hands are…” He trailed off as he looked at them again. Why were they like that? Why was his body different? Why did his voice sound weird? Why did he feel just so off in general? “What happened?”
Grinning, Engie scrambled up to his feet. He held his arms open for a few moments as if he intended to hug Spy but with a few deep breaths, he refrained, pulling them back in. “I should explain.”
“Yes, you certainly should and I am asking you to.” Spy crossed his arms, waiting. An outward show of impatience should hide the worry brewing in his chest over this.
Engie took another breath. “Yeah, yeah. Uh… I should start from the beginning. I used to work at a science center. The specifics of it don’t matter. What matters is the head of the company was ill and dying. So he had a team of people working on a way to upload his mind into a computer before he went. I wasn’t part of that team but that kinda thing’s interesting, right? So I took a look at it anyway and may have copied their stuff just for the sake of it, you know? I don’t know how it turned out or even if they got it done before the guy died. I left before then because I was starting to work on the teleporters at that time and didn’t want them taking credit for it.
“I still had the notes, blueprints, and all that though. I kept them with me mostly forgotten until a couple years ago when I was trying to clear out some of my old blueprints and stuff. I almost threw them but then realized with some work, I might be able to make something from them. It turned out to be a lot of work but I finished it a few months ago. So I made a robot and…”
“I’m in that robot?” Spy interrupted because he couldn’t listen quietly anymore. It was something straight out of a science fiction novel. Normally he never would’ve believed such a thing was possible but… what else could it be? He’d been dying miles away from this place and he’d woken up with mechanical hands and a strange body.
“Yep. I was supposed to be for me. My first thought when finishing it was to upload myself to it immediately and possibly kill myself in the process or just have it be kinda a clone of me. But then I remember how mad you got about this.” He lifted his mechanical hand, referencing the fact that he’d chopped it off himself like an idiot. “So I figured, I’d build the scanner things into a hardhat that I could wear until I was about to die. I had stuff in my desk for instructing you on how to upload my brain to the bot. But then uh…” He trailed off.
“I died first so you used it on me.”
“Yep. I thought about changing the way the body of the bot looked to be more comfortable for you but I didn’t want to wait that long.”
“You could’ve told me about this.” Spy had certainly been owed that, hadn’t he?
Engie flinched as he looked away. “Yeah. I could’ve. Thought about, never did ‘cause I was afraid you wouldn’t like it.”
While Engie didn’t owe it to him to tell him about everything he worked on, it would’ve been nice to know he’d intended to bring himself back to life – in a way. And, even more so, it would’ve been nice to know about it so Engie could’ve asked permission to do this instead of just going ahead and doing it because there hadn’t been time to explain. Whether he would’ve consented to it or not he didn’t know but he would’ve liked the option to be presented to him.
He was just a brain scan copy of himself. His real self had died in that motel room. But also, mentally he didn’t feel like a copy; his existence felt very real. So as far as his perception was concerned, he still existed. That was good at least.
“I’m sorry,” Engie said, still looking away as he stuffed his hands into pockets. “I should’ve told you ‘bout it so I could’ve asked if this is what you wanted. And perhaps I could’ve explained real fast and asked but you were dying and I just…”
“It’s fine,” Spy interrupted. “I’m not happy about it but I understand.” If he were about to lose Engie and such an option had been presented to him, in the heat of that moment he likely would’ve done it without asking permission also.
Engie finally looked up at him again. “You wouldn’t happen to mind a hug, would you? It’s been a long few days.”
“Go ahead.”
Stepping forward, Engie hugged him. Despite being a robot Spy still felt even if it wasn’t the same way he’d felt it before. How exactly it was different wasn’t immediately obvious only that it was. Also, they were the same height, which made sense – the robot was meant for Engie after all – but was quite strange.
“I’m glad it worked.” Engie sounded almost on the verge of tears as Spy returned his embrace. “I was worried I’d lost you for good.”
Unsure of what to say, Spy just patted him on the back. Which seemed to be enough to pull sob a of relief from him.
He didn’t cry for long or even very hard. After a few minutes he stepped back with a sniffle. “Sorry ‘bout that. It’s uh… been a long few days.”
“I can imagine.” Spy was going to have to ask about it eventually. What he’d missed, what Engie had done with his real body, and all that. Not yet though, he wanted to adjust to this new state of existence a bit more before talking too much about how he was actually dead.
“If ya like, I could still modify your new body to make it look more like how you did before or really however you want it to look.”
“Perhaps a good idea.” Even if it would be strange to have Engie working on him like that it would maybe help him fell a bit less strange. “First though, you should get some sleep.”
Engie took a breath, clearly about to protest but he let it out with a sigh. “Yeah. Sleep sounds good.” He wasn’t putting up his usual token protest meaning he was even more tired than he looked. “Come with?”
“Of course.” Spy wasn’t tired – could he still sleep now that he was a robot? – but the thought of lying down with Engie anyway was pleasant. He led the way out.
On the way to what had become their shared room – once just Spy’s room – they stopped by the bathrooms so Engie could brush his teeth and wash up a little before going to bed. Normally Spy would’ve joined him in that. Now though, he stared at himself in the mirror, unsure how he felt about his reflection.
He was indeed without a doubt a robot shaped similar to Engie. The biggest difference was the head, it was a computer monitor with a pixelatedface. One he could control, though like moving facial muscles he couldn’t explain how if someone had asked him to. Waving a hand in front of his face revealed he didn’t see out of the face’s eyes but instead a couple cameras – if that was even the right word – just above the screen.
“Why this face?” he asked, unable able to tear his gaze away.
“Human faces are hard,” Engie replied. “I didn’t wanna try to replicate all the muscles and stuff that make expressions and whatnot. And I figured it’d look cool. I’d offer to change it if it makes you uncomfortable but your head’s where what’s basically your brain now is stored. I could hook you up to something and copy it but then there’d be two of you and you, you would still have it and it’d get weird real fast. Or I could turn you off and take that part out to put into a different head but I’m not…”
“Don’t turn me off.” Just knowing he could be turned off and on at will was an uncomfortable revelation. Even if it was perfectly logical, he was a robot now after all.
“Yep. I figured that’d probably be an uncomfortable idea.”
“So I’m stuck with this face.”
“Sorry ‘bout that.”
“I’ll get used to it.” Somehow, eventually. He had a lot to get used to.
They didn’t speak further as Engie finished up and they resumed heading for their room. Once there, Engie didn’t bother doing anything more than taking off his shoes before crawling into bed.
“Can I still sleep like this?” Spy asked as he stood by the bed. Considering the bot had been meant for Engie, very likely he designed it so he wouldn’t need to. He’d made it quite clear if sleep wasn’t necessary for survival he wouldn’t do it.
“Uh… yeah, you can. Don’t have to but you can. I’ll show you how to plug into the wall to recharge sometime tomorrow which is how you actually rest. But there is still a sleep function that I included as a just in case I ever wanted to for some reason kind of thing.”
“Good.” Spy quite enjoyed sleep, even if it was now optional he intended to indulge in it. Right now seemed like a good time to figure out how to engage the function as even if he wasn’t physical or mentally tired, a break from thinking would be nice. So he joined Engie on bed. Despite how uncomfortable he had to be to sleep against now, Engie still snuggled up to him, pausing only long enough to get permission in the form of Spy lifting an arm for him.
“Are you sure you wish to cuddle?” Spy had to ask. “I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t want to.”
“I missed you,” Engie replied as he pressed closer, his voice already thick with sleep.
Well, as long as he didn’t mind, Spy didn’t either. This was nice, certainly better than being dead. He had a lot to get used to but with Engie’s help maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
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Alien Alien: Encephalitic×Lullaby
The Prince of Orange is infected with a strange virus never before seen in the Netherlands. Supposedly it will kill him, they say it all the time, but when you hear that this or that or the other thing will kill your Prince...well, Bentinck's patience is stretched a little thin.
I would post this on AO3 but I don't have a proper reference post yet, so I think people who find it will just be very confused. It'll be there eventually, maybe?
CW: illness, religion, attempted murder, cannibalism, violence, period-typical homophobia, sexual tension involving insects, mentions of drool, implied/referenced unreality.
Story under cut, please enjoy :)
The Defender of the Faith was but one of the species of insects that dominated the Netherlands; though they had been chosen by God to far outrun the intelligence and advancements of the other, insentient beasts, they still found themselves hunted on their own land as the prey of larger beings.
Their Prince could chase off a hungry spider with a few swipes, drive a sword through a frog’s eye, in no small part due to Johan de Witt’s mentoring of the little spiderling— but good luck getting the Prince to admit that. Yet it was not in one of these oversized monsters that William found his match.
They said it was something like rabies, caused by a virus that had somehow survived countless journeys through galaxies and many, many species. Hans William Bentinck shamefully knew very little about any of those illnesses; even his database found almost nothing. He only figured out that it could kill his Prince when he first came across the symptoms.
In that moment, despite William’s head being held up by a few pillows, his breathing was still labored, wheezing, his tail lashing furiously under the blankets as Bentinck approached. His lips were damp as he ran his tongue over them, again and again with an anxious fervor.
“Your Highness,” Bentinck greeted him with a dip of his head. So-called emotions had been coded into him long before, and yet he still couldn’t name many of the ones that came to him, such as this one he felt currently as he stared down at William.
“Hans,” the Prince managed. “What- what are you doing—?”
“Did you think I was going to leave you alone here?” Bentinck asked. He knelt beside the bed, reaching a hand out towards William’s head. “You know I am immune to illness, so why shouldn’t I come see you?”
William flicked his antennae back and snapped his jaws at Bentinck’s hand. Bentinck drew his hand back just in time, buzzing with irritation.
“Please don’t do that.”
William buzzed as well, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. His smaller eyes were screwed shut, as if the room was much too bright for all of them at the same time, even with the dim neon lamps flickering from the walls and floor.
“They tell me you cannot drink,” Bentinck went on. “So I wanted to try because I hear you keep trying to bite everyone.”
Another buzz from William.
“I think there are more civil ways of telling someone you don’t like something,” said Bentinck. “I think you can shake your head and just hide.”
William’s eyes widened with outrage, and he turned to Bentinck, trying to sit up. “No- no more hiding—!” He broke off with a fierce cough, falling back down with a shudder running through his body, and Bentinck hurriedly pulled the blanket back over him.
“Very well, you don’t have to,” he said. “But you don’t have to bite, either. You’ll get other people sick, William.”
William said nothing. His tail kept lashing in its erratic manner, and Bentinck realized then that he wasn’t doing it willingly. It swung before him like a noose, the spikes on it shaking and producing a rattling sound like a serpent’s tail.
Actually, he’d never heard a rattlesnake. He’d never even seen one, but he knew the sound as sure as he knew his own name. The name that William had chosen for him. So he decided that the snake sounded like William and not the other way around.
“Well, where is the water?” Bentinck glanced to the side, and William hissed, shaking his head rapidly.
“You have to drink something.” The android stood up and hesitated as he took the bowl of water from beside the bed. He could see the light of his eyes reflected right back at him.
Don’t spill it. His fans whirred faster for a moment, and then he turned to William, holding the bowl up to his lips.
William’s eyes widened, and he batted his claws out with another hiss, his tail slapping Bentinck in the legs. Bentinck pulled the bowl away with a sigh.
“Why don’t you want it? You need it.” He lifted William’s head in his free hand before quickly pulling his hand back with a shocked buzz. “Oh, look at how you are drooling!”
William opened his mouth, and Bentinck could see the saliva drip down from his deadly canines. He shook his head in disbelief.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” he murmured. “Please, William, could you at least try?” He held the bowl out again, and this time William sank his teeth into Bentinck’s arm.
“Oh, um, ow, I think?” There was no pain from that, but he could feel the saliva begin to dampen his sleeve, too warm and too heavy. He shuddered, setting the bowl down before gently prying William’s jaws off of him.
William lay back, wheezing once more. “I am sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s...no problem.” Bentinck lifted his arm and realized there were tiny tears in the fabric where William’s teeth had buried themselves, the infected saliva aside. That would be a problem; not for him, but for all the Defenders he spoke to on the daily. The fingers he had used to pull William off of him, too, had the saliva on them, slipping deep into the openings where they bent.
“Don’t bite anyone else,” he said firmly. “Please.”
So William would not drink. He would only keep biting, Bentinck knew, and by experience he also knew that William’s bite force was possibly one of the strongest in the galaxy. Consequently he suggested to even the physicians that maybe they should keep their distance unless Bentinck was there.
He spent the rest of the night out under the waving flowers, blocking out the light of the moons, far from any Defender. On occasion he would blink to increase the brightness of his eyes as he paced in front of a stream.
Just wash your hands, he told himself. What are you waiting for?
He couldn’t do it, not ever and not now. He could almost understand William’s reactions to being given water, if only William would certainly die if he lapped up every last drop in the bowl.
But he’s not going to die. It would make him better.
He has to get better. He looked up to the stars and crouched down in front of the water. He held his hand out, cautiously dipping his fingers in for a second or two before pulling back again.
There. That’s enough, isn’t it? He buzzed as he examined the water dripping from his hand, then dried it on his coat before he had to stare at it any longer. Whoever heard of a wet robot? How unnatural.
No damage was done. All his systems were functioning properly and up to date.
He lifted his head, at that moment hearing a sort of miserable weeping behind him, sobs of a lady getting closer. He gasped and stood up, looking wildly about him before realizing that through the leaves he heard the steady crawling of an insect. A large one, too.
The animal dragged itself out into the light of Bentinck’s eyes. It was a green praying mantis, certainly a female judging from her size alone. He ducked back down to make himself smaller in front of her, and she looked at him, holding one of her forelegs up to her face. She was the one crying, though without any hint of tears.
“Oh, android, forgive me, I did not mean to interrupt- whatever you were doing,” she said in rather coarse Dutch, trying to speak through her gasps. “I- I had nowhere else to go.”
“It’s no problem,” Bentinck said softly. Somehow he wasn’t awfully shocked that a praying mantis should be speaking to him. Maybe they had always spoken to the Defender of the Faith, but none had ever listened. He could listen now.
“Thank you,” she said, a little quieter now. “Thank you.” She crawled around him, towards the water, and he sat down, looking curiously up at her. He had never dared to get closer to a mantis, de Witt had always forbidden it, but what could they do to him?
“Is something wrong?” he asked. “If I may know.”
“Oh, I suppose,” the mantis replied. “No one else will listen.”
“The Prince calls me a good listener.”
“The Prince himself?” She tilted her head to the side. “Well, may your android ruler reign long.”
“Oh, no, no, we- I do not- androids have no monarchy,” he said, shaking his head. “The very thought, robots ruling themselves! No, I work for the Defender of the Faith.”
“And who is that?”
“You have never seen them?” he said incredulously. “They’re magnificent Asterothiriots. They hunt the males of your kind sometimes.”
“Then they should come for my husband next!” the mantis cried then. “I cannot take it anymore! I- I cannot love him, much as I have tried! He will not listen, he will not even look at me.” Her voice shook, as if she would start crying all over again. “And I have been faithful.”
“Is that why you are here?” Bentinck asked.
“Yes, I just had to get away,” she said. She bowed low, burying her head in her forelegs. “He has no heart, though I suppose I should not have expected him to fit one in his tiny body.”
“Of course, he’s much smaller than you,” Bentinck murmured.
“He never speaks to me,” she went on. “And when he does, it’s only to be cruel. I feel as if I can never please him.”
“No man should treat his wife like that,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “What is he thinking he’ll get away with?”
“That’s just it, android.” She shook her head helplessly. “No one knows. He hides behind so much, but I just know- I know there is something there. There has to be.” She sighed. “I wish I knew how to find it.”
“Oh, trust me, it is very easy,” Bentinck said, reaching out to pat her on her leg. “You must look inside him.”
“Inside him?”
“Yes,” he said with a firm nod. “That is what you do with a robot. If something is not working right, you open him up and look inside. And then you repair him.”
“I must...repair him?” She sounded skeptical. “Why must it all be up to me?”
“Well, nothing of mine is up to me,” Bentinck said. “I would know love if I could. Maybe he knows nothing of it, either.”
“Love is something difficult to define. Maybe you do know it and you haven’t realized.”
“I- I don’t believe so,” he said, laughing a very metallic laugh.
“Why not? Already you have been much kinder to me than my husband has been in all the months I have known him.”
“Nothing is real within me.”
“It has a real effect on me,” she insisted. “And does that not make it real enough, Bentinck?”
He thought it very sweet of her to remember something he had never even told her. He shrugged his shoulders.
“To a girl like you, perhaps anyone looks kind,” he said. “Anyone that isn’t him.”
“I should have known,” she said, her voice hardening. “You and him— you crawl in the dirt like worms and never bother to stick your head out to the skies. Only when it rains. And by then it will be too late.”
Bentinck was silent. In the rain? He’d never come out in the rain.
“Very well, I will open him,” she said. “I will tell you how it goes. Thank you, Bentinck.”
“It’s been my pleasure,” he said. And he meant it.
The next morning, a dark, early morning, he was with William again, who had only worsened over the night. The bristles on his insect arms shook, and he bit down on his pillow constantly, his tail flicking from side to side in a manner that reminded Bentinck of when the Prince was younger. He loved to bite de Witt, constantly, and it was only acceptable because de Witt was the one who had taught him to bite in the first place. And William’s tail would always wag, like he found it very exciting.
Bentinck sat on the floor beside him and stroked William’s head, being very careful not to tangle the damp curls in his heavy fingers. William twitched once, twice, then sprang up and bit Bentinck’s hand.
“Please don’t do that,” the android tried, though he didn’t expect William to listen. “Do you want to try water now?”
William chewed on one of Bentinck’s fingers and shook his head.
“Please don’t do that,” Bentinck repeated. “Please don’t bite my hand.” He wanted to pull away, but it was as if the warmth trapped him there, the drool seeping into the open parts of his hand and wrist.
Please don’t...do that. He buzzed nervously and shook his head, unable to say more.
William looked up at him, and Bentinck took the chance to jerk his hand away, shaking off the excess saliva. He flexed his fingers to check if they still moved, but he had no time to run a system scan as William was snapping his jaws at him again.
“Alright, calm down,” Bentinck said, shuffling back. “What is it?”
William blinked, digging his claws into his blankets and bowing his head. Bentinck realized he was trembling.
“Do you think I will die?” he asked faintly.
“You?” Bentinck shook his head. “No.” He never once believed that of William. God was always watching the Defender of the Faith, for one reason or the other.
“They say it used to be fatal. Every time.” William paced on the bed, turning around to nip at his tail.
“Used to be. The chances of survival are higher now.”
“What makes you think that I will survive this?” he snapped. “Look at me, Hans!”
“I am looking.”
“I should have died,” William said. “I should have been dead long ago.”
“You know there’s a reason you’re still here,” Bentinck said. “Why do you think your life should have been cut short? You know God chose you. You cannot take that for granted.”
“You think this is a gift?” William wheezed out, his eyes widening. It gave him a wilder appearance, one Bentinck would have been afraid of coming across in battle. “Nothing is so simple.”
“Well, it has to be something. At the very least your reason to live.” Bentinck leaned in and cupped William’s face in his hand, carefully avoiding his lips. “Though I think you should live for more.”
“What do you live for, Hanni?” William leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, managing to purr.
“I—” Bentinck paused. “I live for you.”
“I told you you that you did not have to.”
“Then what else should I live for?” The robot shook his head. “I was created for one purpose.”
“So was I,” William retorted.
“Then maybe we can find more reasons to live later on,” Bentinck said. “Right now, you have to focus on getting better. You have to take what they give you, without biting.” He wagged his finger in William’s face, pulling it back just before William’s jaws closed around it. “What did I just say?!”
“I- I don’t know,” William said, backing away. He had always been small, but what he lacked in physical size, he made up for in determination, and, beyond that, spite. But Bentinck couldn’t see any of that in him now; he was just what he was, small.
Oh, William. He sighed and stood up, looking around for the bowl of the water that the physician had left for him.
“Are you not thirsty?” he asked.
“Very.” William glanced at him, lying back down and chewing on his pillow again.
“Then why...why do you refuse the water?”
William’s spikes shook warily at the word. “It scares me.”
“But nothing ever scared you,” Bentinck said. “And we are Dutch, William.”
“Do you fear water?”
“Well, I must. To survive.”
William said nothing, then sat up, turning to look at the bowl of water. Bentinck took it and cautiously held it out to him. Much to his surprise, William did not spring back nor try to bite this time. He shut his eyes and leaned forward, the spikes on his tail shaking rapidly.
He lapped at the water once, then jerked back, coughing and hacking up the few drops he had managed. Bentinck set the bowl aside and rubbed at William’s back.
“Closing your eyes was a good strategy,” he said.
“I- I want to try again,” William said. He shook himself and buried his face in his claws, this time nipping at the blankets.
“Very well,” Bentinck said. “I could try covering your eyes, if you’d like.”
William looked up and nodded. Bentinck brought his hand down on all six of William’s eyes, and the Prince fell still. Even his shaking stopped. The only sign of life from him was his heavy breath.
“Here,” Bentinck said, holding the bowl to William’s lips again. He stroked soothingly at the antennae as William sniffed the air warily and began to lap at the water with his tongue. Much of it he did not swallow, as he appeared to have great difficulty in doing so, coughing as he was, but Bentinck was pleased to see that he was drinking something now.
William made it clear he was done by throwing the hand off of him and biting into the wrist instead, shaking it furiously in his jaws. Bentinck buzzed and looked away to set the bowl down. The water and saliva from William’s mouth was sliding over him, into him, freezing and yet somehow burning him—
Do not say a thing. He covered the speaker on his chest and shut his eyes. Give him time.
Indeed, William did not let go for a long time, and Bentinck sat down on the floor, resting his head on the bed to watch his master slowly fall asleep. By then his hand and wrist felt nearly detached from him, and his fans were whirring faster than before. Somehow, despite the noise from the robot, William fell asleep, purring slightly.
“Very good,” Bentinck murmured, carefully opening William’s jaws and pulling his hand out. It was a little scratched up now, the fingers stiffer as he tested their movement. Or was he imagining it?
Oh, please don’t do that again. He stayed there for a moment as his fans slowed down. William snored softly away as if he had never bitten anyone at all. Bentinck wondered, for the first time, if he would wake up the next morning. He might have prayed, but surely God could not hear the words of an android.
As Bentinck had no reason to stay inside during the night, he made his way back through the plants once more. There were Defenders still out, watching him warily from their places on their flowers and webs. He knew they could smell the sickness on him.
He ignored them and kept walking until they fell behind him and he was sure he was alone. He had dried his hand, but not very well, so the saliva still clung to him and his parts. He hadn’t been imagining it— movement was definitely limited.
He didn’t want to wash his hand, but he remembered his First Law and decided to walk to the stream again, where smaller insects and bacteria swam. He threw off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and shoved both of his hands into the water, scrubbing hard with his fingers.
He hadn’t realized water was so heavy. His movements were not as flexible, and he was relieved to finally pull his arms out. He found he could no longer make a fist with either hand, rather the fingers stopped short before reaching his palm and shook in place.
Reduced mobility. Well, that was going to be a problem.
“Are you doomed to die, android?”
“W-What?” Bentinck looked up, high above into the cattails, where a black spider hung from a small web. “Oh. No, not me. My master might be, though. I mean, I wouldn’t like to think so, but they always say he will. I never believed it.”
“Because you have no concept of death,” said the spider. “You think you live forever.”
“No, only until my plutonium core has reached its half-life,” Bentinck said. “And- and I know what death is.”
“What is it?”
“When life ends,” he said indignantly. “Everyone knows that.”
“I fear you have a dull understanding of the world,” the spider said. “Poor thing. Why is it all so simple to you?”
“I was created to understand the world around me as I see it,” Bentinck replied. “I know what life is as I know what ends it, and that is death.”
The spider barked out a laugh, a highly unnatural sound from its body. “Well, is that what you were seeking when you touched the water?”
“No, I wanted to get clean.”
“Are there not better ways?”
“No, I—” Bentinck paused. “Sometimes the Prince will wipe at my face and hands with bleach, but I never liked it.”
“I assume it is safer than this,” the spider said.
“I suppose, Mijnheer. But he is very ill right now, so I couldn’t ask,” said Bentinck. “And I cannot do it myself.”
“But you can- you think you can touch water?”
“Water I must have an aversion to,” he said. “That is part of my Third Law; I must protect myself from damage. But I can disobey it if it comes in conflict with my First Law, part of which is to stop harm from coming to biological beings. It is not a specifically coded restriction like avoiding dangerous chemicals is.”
“What odd programmers you must have had,” the spider said.
“My mother did very well,” Bentinck protested. “It is for the safety of the Prince and everyone else.”
“You care so much for the safety of your master,” the spider said thoughtfully, raising a leg to his face. “The Prince, is he? Look here upon my web, android, and see all the harm that would have come to your beloved Prince had I not caught it before.”
Bentinck narrowed his eyes. There were flies and mosquitoes tangled in the web, even a bee near the center. All creatures potentially dangerous to Defenders, but nothing William had never fought off.
“Those are just your meals,” he said.
“Ah, ah, ah, Bentinck,” the spider said, shaking his head. “They told me themselves that they were all plotting here, amongst the cattails. They said that they were coming for your Prince, that they would kill him and bring about the rule of the queen bee, who ruled long before he did and will rule for centuries after.”
“The queen bee?” Bentinck buzzed in disbelief. “I have never heard of such a thing.”
“She is a Catholic,” the spider said. “All bees are.”
“Truly?”
“I have met many bees myself. All follow the same God.” He kicked a leg out towards the dead bee in the center of the web. “Including this one.”
“Then why do they produce honey for a Protestant planet?” Bentinck asked.
“Because they had no choice. It was either work for the Defenders, swear allegiance to the Prince...” The spider tilted his head to the side. “Or die.”
“No one ever told me that,” Bentinck said ruefully. He was always sort of offended to hear new information; he was supposed to know everything!
“Why would they?” said the spider. “You would think it unfair.”
“I do not.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“I see.” The spider ducked his head. “You are a very faithful robot, Bentinck. And yet for all your loyalty, it was I who caught these traitors. Not you.”
“You cannot call them traitors if they never had an allegiance to us,” Bentinck said. “They were just a bunch of angry insects.” He stepped forward, precariously closer to the edge of the stream. “And you took care of them, yes? So there is no more problem.”
“Of course, I will be expecting a reward,” the spider said. “I saved the Prince’s life.”
“He could have fought them off himself. He did not need you.”
“Never underestimate the cunning of the queen bee,” the spider went on. “Besides, these ones may be dead, but there are still traitors within your web.”
“You cannot be serious,” Bentinck scoffed. “The Prince knows who he employs. He can get within their heads. He knows where every Defender is at every time.”
“But you said he is ill, yes?” The spider leaned in, crawling onto one of the cattails. “He has no mind for that now. There are Defenders in your midst who would kill for the queen.”
“And- and your prey told you this?”
“I injected them with my venom,” the spider said, “and then they told me everything. They were going to assassinate the Prince, but should they fail, it would be up to their Defender allies.”
“Traitors.” Bentinck’s fans whirred in fury.
“Yes.”
“Who are these men?” the robot demanded. “If you tell me, I will make sure you are rewarded.”
“I do not share such things with the Prince’s little android,” the spider said. “Bring him here, up to my web. I do not mind his illness; he cannot infect me with it.”
“But he may be too weak,” Bentinck said. “Can you not come with me instead?”
“No, it must be here. In my web, it is safe. Safer than any other place in the Netherlands.”
“Safe?”
“Very, very safe. I will protect him. He is my Prince as much as he is yours.” The spider crawled upwards again. “In fact, you must come see how safe it is.”
“What- up there?” A spiderweb had never held Bentinck before.
“Yes.” The spider tilted its abdomen towards him, shooting down a thread of silk. Bentinck lifted his hand to catch it, but as his hand could not close around it, he felt it slip through his fingers, getting caught there.
“Oh, it’s...very sticky,” he said. “And a little thicker than what we— than what the Defenders produce.”
“I do take pride in it,” the spider said. “Nothing escapes my web, Bentinck. Now come up here, come see it.”
“Shall I climb the plant—?”
“Yes, I will pull you up.”
Bentinck brought the silk up to his mouth and clamped his jaws around it. It was a better hold than the one he could take with his stiff hands. Instead, he climbed up the cattail with them, which bent slightly under his weight, but was surprisingly strong enough to hold him as he made his way up to the web.
The spider, too, was strong, helping him up and moving back onto his web as Bentinck got closer. He pulled Bentinck onto the web, and the android lay back on it, staring up at the sky. He was closer to the stars.
“You have a nice view up here,” he said. He looked down and realized he still had the silk in his mouth. He tried to lift a hand to pull it out, but it was stuck to the silk he lay on. “Oh, I- I am sorry—”
The spider stared at him. “What did I say, Bentinck? Nothing escapes my web.” He severed the silk that still connected them with his fangs and began to crawl towards Bentinck. “You have nothing to apologize for, save perhaps to your master for betraying him.”
“What are you talking about?” It seemed to Bentinck that the more he struggled, the more the silk stuck to him.
“You will bring him to me,” the spider said, “so I can kill him.”
“No- no, I will not!” Bentinck buzzed in terror as the spider looped silk around his limbs, pulling his arms behind him. “Please don’t do that—!”
“The Prince is a shameful excuse for a ruler,” continued the spider calmly. “Peace will come only when the queen bee rules the universe, but you only know what you are told.”
“Nothing can kill William!” His arms having been tied back, he kicked out at the spider, who hissed and backed away. “And I certainly will not allow you to do so!”
“They all say that, until they get a taste of my venom,” the spider said. He shot silk out at Bentinck’s legs and pulled hard on it, pinning them back against the web.
I can’t move! He buzzed again like a helpless insect as the spider crawled up behind him.
“Your Prince was a mistake,” he said. With that, he dug his fangs into Bentinck’s neck, and Bentinck tossed his head back with a metallic shriek. The fangs had not pierced through his metal, but he felt the venom that they injected slip through the opening in his neck, leaking into the parts within his chest. It was like a snake in him.
“Mijnheer- please don’t— please—” He couldn’t even finish a sentence, breaking off with his miserable, broken buzzing. He was sounding more and more like static.
But the venom was still going, and when the spider at last stepped away, he felt it dripping through the openings in his legs and feet. The spider snapped some of the threads behind him, and he fell forward with a cry, towards the water. The silk had not let go, however, instead leaving him dangling upside down over the water.
Oh, my God! “Please don’t do that, please don’t do that, please don’t do that—!” He tried in vain to wrench his arms free from the silk. The venom ran back down to his face, trickling out his lips and eyes like tears.
“How are you still fighting?” the spider said curiously.
“I- I will see to it that you are never forgiven—!” Bentinck’s voice could hardly be heard through the rapid glitches; he did not know if it was caused by the fluid in his parts or simply his fear.
“Bring me the Prince and I will consider not letting you drown,” said the spider, “like you robots know how to do.”
“Caution: vision impaired,” came automatically from Bentinck’s speakers. Indeed, the venom falling from his eyes was pooling in his eyelids, blurring the sight of the water before him.
“Never,” he said of his own volition.
“Then you can die.” The spider snipped the remaining silk from his legs, and Bentinck shut his eyes and mouth, a bit like a Defender who held its breath.
The impact did not come from below, however, like he expected; rather it came from the side, powerful arms throwing him against another cattail. He landed a fly-length away from the stream, and he looked up to see what it was that had saved him.
It was the praying mantis from the other day, staring at him with her wide eyes. “Are you damaged?” she asked him, but Bentinck did not get to answer as the spider jumped from his web and landed in front of him.
“You think you can get someone else to protect you?” he snarled. “Just like the Prince thinks he is so safe. I will kill him, and the queen bee will return, and you will die like all unnatural children do—”
“That is enough from you!” The mantis fluttered her wings and carried herself over the stream. The spider looked up at her and hissed, batting his legs out at her, which she sliced off with a nimble swipe of her foreleg. She hooked her other leg beneath his head and ripped it off without much effort at all.
That there is death. Bentinck shuddered, unable to look away as she kicked the spider’s body away. She landed in front of him and leaned in.
“There, he cannot hurt you anymore,” she said. “Nor anyone else.”
“Did you know him?” Bentinck whispered. It was the only thing he could manage.
“No. But I saw enough.” With the same leg she had used to kill the spider, she tore the silk off of him, and he stretched. “How are you?”
He wiped away the venom from his eyes and lips. “Running system scan.” He paused, then buzzed with alarm. “Moderate moisture detected in critical systems. Mild disruption and impairment of mobility signals.”
“Is that a problem?” the praying mantis asked.
“Yes.” Bentinck nodded, trying to quiet his fans down. They whirred away at full speed, but it seemed like it took more energy out of him than usual. For once, he was exhausted.
“I do not want it fixed,” he said.
“Why not? Is it not akin to illness?” She prodded him in the shoulder and handed him his coat. “And it can make quick work of you, too.”
“I was created to be very- very resistant,” he said, slipping the coat on gratefully. “It’s no problem.”
“Should you sound like that?”
“Like what?”
“You sound a little muffled,” she said. “Muted. Even if you wanted to hide it, you couldn’t.”
“The Prince orders all repairs on me,” he said. “But he cannot notice anything now.”
“What about your Third Law?”
“You know about it?”
“Well, I must.”
Bentinck hummed thoughtfully. “I would hate to cause trouble.” Changing the subject, he asked, “How are things with your husband?”
“I did as you said,” she said, “but it only seems like he has spoken less and less to me. Truthfully, Bentinck, I cannot say if I fixed him at all.”
“It never goes right the first time,” he said. “There is usually a lot of trial-and-error involved in these sorts of things.” He winced. “Trust me, I know. It hurts very much.”
“For him?”
“For everybody involved. That was what my mother used to say, at least; supposedly I was very dangerous to create.” Bentinck shrugged. “I know very little about biological pain, though.”
“If he hurts, then he should tell me,” the praying mantis muttered. “I have tried to say— many times— what he does is hurt me. I tell him everything and yet I cannot tease a single word out of him.”
“Something has to work eventually.”
“I wish things were as simple as you saw them.” She sighed and waved her leg at him. “I must get back to him now. He would still like me at his side.” She helped him up and patted him on the head, accidentally tearing a few strands of the plastic wig out with her claw. “Be careful around spiders from now on.”
“I- I will,” Bentinck said, smoothing down his hair. “It’s one of the first things Defenders are taught.”
The mantis tilted her head to the side but said nothing more.
In the days following Bentinck realized he was trembling, which had never happened before save for a few times when he’d been shocked by the wires the technicians liked to shove in him. But this was something highly unnatural, and every movement, every step forward, felt like it took everything out of him.
Still, he was ordered by the doctors to stay with William, and he obeyed, even when the Prince’s jaws closed around his arms and made him want to vomit. There was a good, nice biological word; it made no sense to him, but it sounded like what he felt in the moment.
It was with this shaking, scratched metal that Bentinck was meant to bathe the filthy Prince with. They said he was getting better, but nobody knew if he was safe to approach yet, or truly how one could become infected at all, so they gave Bentinck some gloves and locked him in a room alone with William and a bathtub.
William immediately scurried to the door, his wide eyes fixed on the water in front of him. He had been able to drink more, but not yet without a great fight on his part.
Well, first of all, this is just too much. Bentinck shook his head and brought the switch down at the side of the door. There was a loud click heard from it, and then the two of them were in total darkness save for the light from Bentinck’s eyes. The light that was, he saw now, much dimmer than before.
“Is that better?” he asked.
William blinked and looked up, his pupils widening to cover much of his eye. He gave a slight nod. Under the spotlight of Bentinck’s eyes, his body fully exposed, the state he was in was all the more shameful— in particular his matted, tangled hair, almost resembling Bentinck’s own.
“Well, you certainly need the bath,” he said. “Come, William, get in.”
“Will it not— should it not hurt you?” William asked. He backed up against the wall, and Bentinck sat beside him.
“If it helps you, it cannot hurt me,” he said. “We can get this over with quickly. It doesn’t have to be so hard.”
“I- I cannot even look at it.” William turned away to nip at Bentinck’s finger, tearing the glove away, much to the android’s relief. “Oh, Hans...why are you shaking so much?”
“I don’t know,” Bentinck said honestly. He suspected it was the venom that had gotten into his parts, maybe that and something else, but it was all just his own theory.
“Are you afraid too?”
“Yes, very.”
“You don’t sound like it.” William bit into Bentinck’s wrist next, tapping his claws against his friend’s thigh.
“I have to sound calm for you,” Bentinck said.
William shook his head. Bentinck sighed, leaned his head back on the wall. Were they just going to sit here uselessly the whole time? The doctors at least wanted him to stop stinking of his own drool.
“Just take a look in, I promise it’s not so bad,” Bentinck said, leading William to the tub. They both peeked in, and then froze, buzzing warily as they stared at the water.
That spider nearly drowned me. He looked into his own eyes, batting at them once with his gloved hand, and as the water fearfully drew back, so did he.
“Just- just think about how nice it will be when it’s over,” he said.
“It will not have to be over if we don’t do anything.” William began to step away again, but Bentinck took his arm, pulling him back in.
“Maybe it will make your fever cool down,” he said. “My mother used to spray water on my core every time I heated up too much.”
“Water on...plutonium,” William said with a lazy flick of his antennae. “I see. And what am I?”
“You are the Prince of Orange, the hivemind ruler of the Defender of the Faith, William Henry—”
“I am all of those things,” William interrupted, “but not made of radioactive substances.”
“I would not be too certain. Your mother was definitely exposed to something before your birth.”
William coughed. “Hilarious. But I am no—” He broke off with another cough, and Bentinck rubbed at his back. “I’m not a- not a robot.”
“Lucky.”
“Unlucky.”
“So lucky.”
“Un-fucking-lucky.”
“How obscene.”
“I’ll cool down, Hans.”
“You have to do this first.” Bentinck held his hand out to William, who gave it the gentlest bite and wagged his tail in what was perhaps amusement. “Please? I want to see you recover.”
William drew back, glowering up at him. “You first.”
“Me? You- you want me to take a bath?”
“Just touch it some more. I want to see it is safe. I would like to- to convince myself.” William lifted his head, and Bentinck glanced uneasily at the water.
“Very well.” He tore off the remaining glove and braced himself before dipping his hands in the water. A dim, tantalizing feeling came over him, but it was by no means peaceful; in turn, it scared him how he wanted to fall in and let the water take him.
“Look how great it is,” he said, his voice blinking in and out in his speakers. “Look— come here, just look at it, William.”
“Is something wrong with you?” William asked, digging his claws into the ground.
“Never. Come here, William, you’re safe. See how safe I am—” He broke off with a buzz as William jumped into the water, splashing it all over his face and clothes.
Oh, no, no, no! Bentinck hurried to undress, and William bit into the side of the tub. Wet clothes were the closest thing to cold that Bentinck could feel.
“That was- that was very, very uncalled for, William,” he said once he was done, shaking himself off. “How are you doing in there?”
William bit down harder, the spikes on his tail shaking so quickly over the water that more of it was spilling out again. Bentinck pushed his tail under the water and stroked at William’s head, emitting a low, constant buzz like the one that Defender mothers used to soothe their children.
“You’re doing well,” he said, smoothing out William’s antennae. “See? If you can stay here, it means that you- you will survive, like you have survived everything else.”
William shut his eyes and let out a weak purr. He brought his insect arms out of the water and tapped them over Bentinck, as if he was attempting to crawl over him, but the rest of his body was still.
What is he doing? Bentinck winced when one came near his face. Kneeling down in front of William, still buzzing, he reached out for the soap, but his shaking hands only knocked the bar into the water. At the noise, William drew back a little.
“Oh- oh, forgive me.” Bentinck scratched William’s head between the antennae. “I have been...unstable as of late.”
“You have?” William opened one of his eyes. “And...why is that?”
“It could be anything.” It wasn’t the full truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie, either.
Who knows what it was? He shrugged it off and tried to take the soap again, but it kept slipping on his sleek hands.
“Now that I hear it...” William sat up. “Something is wrong with your voice.”
“Nothing is wrong,” Bentinck insisted. “Nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong.” His voice was being overtaken by glitches, his buzzing rising into high-pitched static. “This- this is nothing—”
William covered his ears. “Oh, whatever you say, just stop that noise!”
“Recognized.” Bentinck clamped his mouth shut, slowly bringing his buzz back to the low one William liked. As he did so, the light in one eye flickered, and when it came to again, he saw half of the world in black and white. Well, half of William, who was the world, anyway.
William started to crawl out of the tub, and Bentinck pushed him back in, more water landing on his face. His legs slipped out under him, and he fell forward, slamming his head against the water.
Oh, God, no! He brought his head back up with much effort; water had never been so heavy before. No, it wasn’t the water, he realized, it was all of his body, and he realized now why he had slipped.
My systems are not obeying me. He huffed and sat back, and William frantically jumped out of the tub and onto him, shaking the water and soap onto Bentinck’s face.
“Please don’t do that,” Bentinck said, pushing him off. He let out a frustrated sigh. “You are not going back in easily, are you?”
William narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
“Then that’s that, I suppose.”
Bentinck didn’t care where he found himself that night, he just wanted to get as far away from William as possible. When Defenders spoke of the stench of sickness, he thought he could almost smell it when he was by the Prince, but today it felt overpowering, like it followed him everywhere. He was not ill, though, certainly not— he could survive anything.
Anything except water! He glared at every Defender crossing his path, eventually just kicking out the wheels under his feet and skating past them. He was far less balanced than he usually was, though, and had to grab onto the surrounding plants to keep himself up.
He sat beside a pitcher plant and let out a relieved sigh as the light of the moons fell over him. The constant trembling of his body and the colorless vision of his eye, however, made it impossible to enjoy the moment.
Ugh! He turned his head abruptly to the side and slammed it against the pitcher plant. It didn’t hurt, but it was sudden, so sudden that as the plant wavered, it looked surprised as well.
“Very sorry,” Bentinck said hastily. “This is nothing like me, I swear. I fear that I am breaking, but I am afraid of making it better. I- I don’t know what else to do.”
He looked back down at the ground, only for a small, clever voice to come from the pitcher plant.
“You are breaking?” it asked.
Bentinck nodded. “Yes. Just a little.”
“Let me look at you.”
“You have no eyes...”
“What- of course I do! Who do you think is talking to you?” The plant leaned forward, and Bentinck shuffled back.
“The, uh, plant,” he said. “But I suppose plants don’t talk, do they?”
“No,” said the voice, laughing. “I am a moth trapped within the plant. If you can get me out, I can tell you what is wrong with you.”
“I know what’s wrong with me.”
“Then I can kiss it better.”
“You promise you really would?” Bentinck leaned in towards the plant, and the supposed moth laughed again.
“As to how effective it is, I cannot say,” it said. “But whatever helps you sleep better at night.”
“Robots do not sleep,” Bentinck sighed, blinking wistfully at the sky. “At least, I do not.”
“You must be run by nuclear energy,” the moth said.
“I- yes. How did you guess?”
“Those robots have no need to charge.”
“Oh.” Bentinck looked up at the plant. “How do I get you out of there?”
“I would tell you to rip through it, but then you would say that that is against your First Law,” answered the moth. “I would then say that I am a biological being, too, and that leaving me here would also go against your First Law. You would say that I am a prey animal of the Defenders, and you see my species hunted everyday, and I would tell you that I am no longer a prey animal if I can speak to you and the plant cannot. You cannot allow me to die alone here, and besides, it’s only one plant, so, Hansi, rip through it with your hands.”
“I think I may want to hear you speak forever,” Bentinck declared.
“I would return the compliment if you sounded any better!” the moth giggled. “Now, would you save my life?”
“Recognized.” Bentinck slammed his fingers through the plant, seeing the beautiful moth just barely managing to keep his body over the digestive liquid, gripping onto the slippery walls of the plant. “You haven’t been here for long, have you?”
“Long enough, my legs are weary.” The moth lifted one of its legs, and Bentinck pulled it out through the hole in the plant. The fur upon the moth was soft, and, he realized when it fell against him, delightful to press his nose to.
“Oh, my, thank you.” The moth shook out its wings. “What a horrifying situation.”
“It’s very good that I found you.” Bentinck sat beside it, running his hands through the white fur. “You can take a break here, if you would like.”
“I would like that very much.” The moth placed its head on Bentinck’s lap. “Why are you shaking so much? Are you ill?”
“Impossible, Mijnheer Moth.” Bentinck shook his head.
“Ah, one would think,” the moth sighed.
They fell silent, and Bentinck looked back towards the plant that he had torn through. It really was a shame; it was so pretty.
“I can see you want to say something,” the moth said.
“I do, yes,” Bentinck said. “Did you know that what captured you is a cobra lily? Very rare around this side of the Netherlands, you see. Every Defender is taught to keep away from these plants, but my master once was caught within one; he thought it had a very nice smell to it.”
“Did he escape?”
“He had to be rescued by his tutor at the time. Mijnheer de Witt, perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
The moth shook its head. “No, never.”
“The Defenders said he tasted a little like spider meat.” Bentinck laughed. “Well, that’s nothing to think about now. What was I saying? Right, cobra lilies! Very beautiful plants, and such skillful hunters, too. I read that you cannot see the sky from in there.”
“I could not,” the moth murmured.
“Ah, wonderful!” Bentinck clapped his hands once. “Very, very good. My master said the same thing. Ah, such clever little things. If they were not so regulated, I would care for one myself.” He glanced fondly back at the plant.
“If they make you happy, why not?”
“They pose a threat to Defender children.” Bentinck sighed. “I would hate to see a little one in such agonies. My master only narrowly escaped.”
“You think about everything and everyone,” the moth said, drawing back and staring at Bentinck with its great, black eyes. “If only my kind had half the kindness that you robots exhibit.”
“Well, you are a very kind moth,” Bentinck said. “Your species is thought to be very annoying around these parts.”
The moth chuckled. “And isn’t that the truth.” It crawled closer to Bentinck, its haustellum hovering over the android’s lips. “Do you want your kiss now?”
“Are you leaving so soon?” Bentinck asked, disappointed. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come back with me.”
“I must return to my own master. I’m sorry.” It pressed its head against Bentinck’s nose, staring right into his glowing eyes.
“You will come back?”
“I don’t know.”
“I want you to stay.” His voice broke off at the end. He didn’t know why he wanted the moth to stay; William would never let him keep it, and yet he suddenly couldn’t imagine a life without it. “Nobody else understands.”
“I am a moth, I really understand very little,” the moth said apologetically. “Here is your kiss.” It extended its haustellum out towards Bentinck, and Bentinck placed a tiny kiss on the tip, as gentle as he could. It improved none of his systems, only made his fans whir faster. But he welcomed it.
“Thank you,” he said. The moth bowed its head and flew away, leaving nothing but the rush of a dam nearby to fill the silence.
Just when you think it all might get better. Bentinck lay back on the grass and stared up into the stars. Nothing could hurt him here.
“Mr. Bentinck,” called a gentle, familiar voice. “Mr. Bentinck, is that you?”
“Oh, yes!” Bentinck sat up, turning around to see the praying mantis from days before crawling tentatively towards him. She looked as mournful as ever. As she approached, Bentinck took her foreleg. “What is it, madam?”
“It is very good that you are here, I needed someone like you,” she said, glancing to the side. “What have you been up to? I waited yesterday night and you never came.”
“Well, things have come up,” Bentinck said with an awkward buzz. “You will have to forgive that.”
“And I do.”
“What troubles you?”
“My husband, sir, it is always him!” She raised her voice, then, turning to the side and pacing about the android. “I have done what you told me to do. So many trials, or errors, or whatever you called them; none of it matters because he is impossible to get through!”
“You have opened him, you have tried to repair him?”
“Yes!” She brought one of her forelegs up to her face and began to cry. “Heaven forgive me, I was never made for this—! Oh, what must I do now?”
“Please don’t do that,” Bentinck said. “Cry, I mean. If you take me to your husband, maybe I can tell you what needs improvement. I cannot do it myself, but I can at least point you in the right direction.”
“He would listen to a man,” she said miserably.
“No, no, not at all that, no,” he reassured her. “I am no husband, but I know what the proper way to treat a woman is.” He held his hand out, and she took it in her leg. “Take me to him.
“Well, if we must,” she said. She led him through the mess of plants everywhere, twitching her antennae as she walked. “I- I must warn you, he is very cold with strangers, from what I have observed.”
“You must not be a stranger anymore.”
“If only...”
She stopped at an exceedingly small pond, what would probably have been a puddle to one of the larger frogs inhabiting the planet. It was covered in black, but he couldn’t tell if it was the reflection of the dark sky or algae, or just his malfunctioning vision.
“Here,” she said, “is where he last spoke to me.” She pushed the cattails aside and motioned for Bentinck to come closer.
He saw a far smaller mantis, indeed, lying beside the pond with its legs splayed out beside its body. The forelegs were still raised in their usual prayer, but the body never moved, and when Bentinck leaned in he saw that it was headless, and a black sort of blood flowed endlessly from it into the water.
“Madam,” he said, “did you consummate the marriage?”
“We did, but it was a very disappointing performance,” she said. “I don’t wish to talk about it.”
“Do you think it might be because you ate his head?”
“What- what are you saying?” She drew back in horror, and Bentinck motioned towards the body.
“I don’t know death very well,” he said, “but this is what it looks like to me.” It felt then that something was splitting apart in his chest, like his core was being torn in two. He thought it was a familiar pain, and maybe he could fall to his knees and weep because of it.
He was nothing to me. Why should I care? He stepped back, covering his mouth with a trembling hand.
“I told you he would not listen!” said the mantis.
“Madam, we must go,” he said, turning to her and taking her foreleg. “There is nothing for you here.”
“But- but my husband—”
“Your husband does not deserve you,” Bentinck snapped. “No one can speak to him now.”
“You said I could make him better!” The mantis was crying again, pushing him away with one sharp swipe from her leg. “Is there no hope, then? Have I- have I failed, Hans?”
“No,” he said, stumbling back over the body. “You were only doing what you had to.”
She stared at him as she wiped at her tears, though they still came, falling over the body of her husband. “What now?” she whispered.
“You can start by leaving.”
“And then?”
“Kill more men?” Bentinck shrugged. “I was never a praying mantis.”
“I am no murderer,” said the mantis. She dipped her head towards him. “I thank you for everything, Bentinck.”
“Recognized,” he said, though he didn’t know what he had done.
He watched her leave, pushing her way through the plants, and he was tempted to follow her, knowing very well that he would never see her again. But perhaps it was for the best.
Instead he glanced down at the body and kicked it, letting it fall into the pond. Looking at it was only making him feel worse— he recognized it as grief, as if he had just lost his own husband.
Or...wife. He buzzed as if he were scolding himself and left the water as it was.
Apparently it should have been a shock that William was recovering well by the next week, because everyone couldn’t get enough of it. But Bentinck already had. He had to admit, however, that it was a great relief to see William crawl out of his bed and hurriedly lap at the water as if he had never feared it at all. He truly was biological.
“How are you today?” Bentinck asked, observing William bat around at a fairyfly that had gotten into his room.
“I want to hunt again,” the Prince said. He snapped his jaws in the air, catching the fly and shaking it furiously in his teeth. He spat it out again with a disappointed flick of his tail. “You think I want to catch these pathetic things for the rest of my life?”
“It isn’t for the rest of your life, Will, it’s just while you recover,” Bentinck said with a sigh. “In the state you are in, even a cicada could knock you over.”
“It’s no worse than it ever was,” William mumbled.
Bentinck paused, narrowing his eyes at his master. There was some truth in that, he supposed; William was as pale and thin as ever, but in fact his eyes were brighter than they had been in the past few weeks. They still fluttered shut when the light of Bentinck’s own eyes flashed over him.
“Maybe not,” the android said, “but I could never risk it. Maybe a walk when less predators are active would be nice. And I must be with you,” he added.
William rolled his eyes, turning away. “I was ill, not a prisoner.”
“You are ill.”
“I am going to bite you again.”
“Please don’t do that—” Bentinck lifted his arm as William sprung at him, clinging onto it while batting his claws against his friend’s metal belly. But he was purring, his tail flicking from side to side excitedly, once again in the manner that he had done it when he was younger with de Witt. The purrs weren’t so bad, Bentinck had to say.
“It’s not so long now,” he said. “You will recover, and then you can go back to terrorizing hapless insects and other horrible creatures.”
“Like the heart-eaters.”
“Yes, very good, Your Highness. You are very, very fierce.”
William drew back, licking his lips. “I know. So I can handle a little walk.”
“Not until the physicians say you can.” Bentinck lifted William in his arms and placed him back on the bed. “I can bring in a few larger flies if you would like.”
William groaned, falling onto his pillow. He blinked, staring out the window listlessly, before his tail twitched suddenly and he sat back up again. “Oh, would you?”
Bentinck nodded.
“Then go, I want a crane fly.”
“Which one?”
“The biggest one you can find, now!” William sprung forward, snapping his jaws, and Bentinck hurried off.
Biggest one I can find? Does he expect me to kill it before or after I bring it to him? He shook his head as he walked, causing his vision to be covered in static for a moment. He covered the speaker on his chest before anyone had to hear the embarrassing warning again and walked faster, calling for the wheels on his feet. Perhaps he was imagining it, but it seemed that every Defender who looked at him this time did so with fear.
Is something wrong with me?
He dismissed the idea and kept going. William always found crane flies near the streams; maybe he would have the same luck. Just as long as he didn’t fall for the claims of a spider again.
He heard a curious buzzing up ahead, one much louder than anything he had ever heard from any insect in the Netherlands. He was tempted to turn back, but he decided that as long as he didn’t provoke whatever it was, he would be fine.
He looked up, trying to find what could possibly be making that noise, only for the wheel on his left foot to spring back inside him. Before he realized what had happened, he stumbled, and he fell hard on the grass, his arm failing to catch him. He landed on his face, his vision shaking as if something had knocked him on the head.
What on the Netherlands is this? He put away the other wheel and tried to push himself back up on his shaking arm. He couldn’t find the strength this time, however, and let himself fall again, staring out at what he found in front of him.
At least I got to the stream. Much to his disappointment, though, there were no crane flies around.
But he did find the source of the buzzing. Looking up, he saw a huge bee perched on a water lily, staring right at him with its head cocked to the side. From the size alone, he recognized her instantly as a queen, but a very peculiar one. The fur on her abdomen had a strange, cross-like marking running across the back instead of the usual stripes.
“Your Majesty,” he blurted, trying to sit up to kneel before her.
“Hans William Bentinck,” she said. “Do not move.” In her voice ran the unmistakable confidence of a monarch, and he obeyed, bowing his head.
“F-Forgive me.”
“Ah, there is nothing to forgive.” She flew over to him, landing at his side. “I have heard much about you.”
“An honor to be known by a being such as yourself.” Bentinck tried to back away, but the queen flung a leg over him.
“Is something wrong, what troubles you?” she asked.
“My whole body, I suppose.” He shuddered at the feeling of the leg and closed his eyes. “I must be looking for a crane fly for the Prince of Orange.”
“The Prince, you say?” He felt her lean in, the fur brushing the side of his face. “How is the boy?”
“Error: you do not have access to that information.”
“What are you—”
“Error: you do not have access to that information.”
He cried out when she slammed her leg against the side of his head, forcing him on his back. “Look up here,” she growled, “look at me. What is it that you are so afraid of, Bentinck?”
“I said that you do not have access to that information.” He glared up at her, though looked only at her wings; the black eyes were terrifying things. “I only serve a Protestant monarch.”
“So you do know about me.” She laughed. “You think you are so faithful, don’t you? You think your loyalty can never waver because you are an android. But let me tell you something, Bentinck; it only makes it easier for you to betray your precious master. I mean, look at how easily you fall apart!” She leaped onto him then, ripping through his waistcoat with a swipe of her leg. He buzzed in fury, shaking his head but unable to do much more than that. He couldn’t hurt her.
“Please don’t do that.” He lifted his head, and she forced it back down with a fierce shove from her mandibles. He let out another buzz, this time one of fear.
“You think he cares for you?”
“Please don’t do that.”
“You think he would be surprised if you turned your back on him? If you began to work for me instead?” She shook her head. “No one would be. You know no such thing as loyalty. God did not create you.”
“Please don’t do that.”
“You believe in Him,” she continued, “but He does not believe in you.”
“Please don’t do that—!” He kicked his legs out, and she drove her stinger into the opening that connected his thigh to his torso, tearing through his breeches. He tossed his head back and screamed as he felt the stinger sever the wires there, the venom squirting through finally taking any movement left on that limb.
“A shame about your strength,” she said. “It really could have saved your Prince from my vengeance.”
“Please don’t do that,” he pleaded. “Please don’t hurt him.”
“Nothing can stop me from what I have planned for that little monster,” she spat. “Not you, not him, and not all the armies in the galaxy.” She lifted her stinger and shoved it in the same place in the other thigh, achieving the same result there.
Bentinck bit back another buzz. “You- you can always go be Catholic somewhere else—”
“This is my kingdom!” She buried her mandibles into his hair and slammed his head back against the ground, again and again until the vision was gone from his eye where color had disappeared.
“Please don’t do that— caution: vision impaired— please don’t do that-” His voice was quickly becoming unrecognizable.
“Then fight,” she said, leaning in until the only thing he could see was her empty eyes, “if you think you can give me orders.”
“I- I don’t know what I did to you—”
“You ask as if working for the Prince isn’t the crime!” She drove her stinger into the speaker on his chest until she broke through. He felt the venom seep through him, burning up everything it touched, and he let himself fall limp, unable to speak coherently anymore. He knew he was still speaking, please don’t do that, but it sounded like nothing to him.
“Pathetic beast, always breaking, always whining,” she said. She pulled the stinger free, flying high above him, and the venom from her stinger fell to his face. It was disgusting. “I would kill you now, but I want to see William’s face when he sees me do it.”
Do not speak his name! Bentinck opened his mouth to tell her so, but before he could manage a sound she took his head in her legs and pushed it back into the water.
It was so quiet. So peaceful. He knew he should have been fighting it, but what was his Third Law compared to this? He was prepared to go, if he could hear nothing forever—
There was a screech from the surface, and then the weight was lifted off of him. The instinct to live returned to him. Using all the strength within him, he pulled himself out with a gasp, water leaking from his eyes and lips. He turned his head to the side to see where the queen had gone.
She had not gone willingly. There was the Prince, beautiful William, swiping at her face, hissing as he drove her back. He was many times smaller than she was, but she couldn’t manage to push him off.
“No one will touch my android!” he snarled.
“No!” Bentinck tried to call out, reaching out towards William. He wasn’t supposed to be out here! He had certainly never fought a queen before.
“You have brought him straight to me!” At last the queen bee threw him off, and Willaim landed with a huff on the ground. She lifted her head triumphantly, glancing at Bentinck. “Good boy.”
No, that was never—! He dragged himself forward with his arm, but was too unsteady to keep the motion. He let his head fall. Was this how William would die, with Bentinck watching on helplessly?
I was supposed to protect him. He wanted to cry, then realized that he was, the water from the stream still dripping slowly from his eyes.
William bared his teeth as he stood back up, the spikes on his tail shaking in warning. And Bentinck saw then that he would not die here. If he had survived illness in the past month, if he had defeated mantises, spiders, frogs, and liars, liars, liars, then a bee would never be anything at all.
“I am going to rip those beady little eyes out of your skull until there is nothing left to see heaven’s light,” the queen hissed.
William’s eyes flicked to black, and he sprung once more at her, clinging onto her abdomen with his claws as she flew up. She kicked at him with her legs, thrusting her stinger forward, but he held on from behind. She could land nothing on him. He crawled over her body, bringing her lower to the ground, and out of the plants bounded out more Defenders, old and young, hissing along with him at the queen.
It was undoubtedly his hivemind. Their black eyes matched his as they pounced on the queen, and they moved as if they had tails, carelessly unbalanced on top of her. William himself slipped off the side and bounced back, wheezing and circling the scene.
He needs me! Bentinck tried to call out to William, but it was much too low to be heard, and William never looked over at him. He seemed incredibly focused as he shifted his claws on the ground, as his Defenders shot silk from their wrists and tangled it around the queen’s legs. He tensed, then jumped back onto her, burying his claws into her wings. With the way her abdomen was moving, trapped within the silk, Bentinck guessed she was trying to sting him again.
William bit into her head and rolled sharply to the side, taking her with him. The rest of the Defenders stepped back, their eyes returning to normal, though wide with terror. These were not soldiers— they were merely the Defenders closest to the area, and thus could be anything. There were even a few children in the mix, hiding behind their mothers with nervous growls.
William shook the queen in his jaws, then threw her down below him, his jaws dripping with the hemolymph he had taken from her. It looked as if he was drooling again, but he licked the liquid away almost too gleefully.
“Kill me, then, but I will always return,” she spat at him. “And when I do, you will have more to lose.”
“Heaven take you, Your Majesty.” William bit into her antennae and tore her head from her body. Her legs still twitched under the silk as he jumped off of her, shaking himself and trying to catch his breath.
“A queen without a hive,” he huffed. “Now I have seen everything.” The Defenders backed away from him as he bounded towards his android. “Hans! How are you?”
“You- you need me—” Bentinck propped himself up on one arm as William curled his tail around him. He could only manage a broken whisper; anything louder than that would spook William with all its clicks and glitches.
“Shh, don’t speak,” William said. “I- I am very well—” He broke off when he started coughing, and Bentinck shook his head.
“You were not supposed to do this.”
“Then who else would, if I had not disobeyed you?” William smiled, leaning in to purr against Bentinck’s cheek. “My antennae couldn’t have sensed danger if I had been inside.”
“Enough, just kiss me.”
“I don’t need it—” He attempted to laugh, interrupted by another hacking cough, and Bentinck brought his head closer and kissed him. He prayed that the inhaler function in his throat still worked.
Out of all my systems, please, please, please.
William blinked, then backed away, his eyes wide. “No, Hans, I-” He took a deep, rasping breath, his tail twitching uncomfortably as he glanced at everyone around him.
Did it not work? Bentinck reached out, took William’s hand.
“I- I am sorry.”
“Hans, it isn’t—”
“She said she would come back.” Bentinck’s voice rose. It was like speaking through shattered glass.
William stared at him, still stepping away. “What are you talking about? Who?”
“The queen!”
William shook his head. “You are not well,” he breathed. Then, turning to his subjects, he said, “Help me- help me take him back—! Now!”
Did I say something wrong? It could have been anything, Bentinck thought.
“You are safe now, Hans, don’t speak anymore,” he heard William whisper on his blind side. His warm breath on Bentinck’s face was labored, but reassuring nonetheless. “Just- just close your eyes.”
He knew what that meant, but closed them anyway. He felt William reach his claws into his throat and shut him off. From there he could have been out for a few minutes or centuries upon centuries; he could never tell.
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