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tusks-and-claws · 11 months

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The Death of Peace of Mind

Miguel O’hara x female reader

Summary: "I miss the way you say my name/the way you bend, the way you break"

You think your fearless leader needs help relaxing, but another door is opened entirely

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, fingering, blowjob, pronebone, blood, biting, unprotected sex, paralytic venom, dominant Miguel, dirty talk, God there’s so much to list : )

Word count: 3.3k

Can also be found on Ao3 here. Please give it some love if you enjoyed ;_;

"I know better than this, I shouldn't be… we shouldn't be doing this."

Miguel O'Hara sat at the edge of your bed, your room softly illuminated by a candle on the bedside table. He liked the dark. His back was to you, his broad shoulders slumped forward, as you had your back against your headboard. He was still in his suit, his mask off.

"Miguel…" you said, starting this conversation again for the umpteenth time. "You have needs, too, y'know."

He waved a hand dismissively. "What are my needs when compared to all this?" He gestured to nothing. You weren't even at HQ. You were both in your dimension. A vacation, you had said. You could never get him to leave HQ for long. "I know what happens when I try to get what I want. When I go where I don't belong."

You furrowed your brow. "But you do belong here, I invited you."

"You know exactly what I mean." He spoke quickly. Trying to expel the words as fast as possible.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you eyed him. He'd been through a lot, yes, but what Spider hadn't? How long was he going to keep ignoring himself for the greater good? What purpose would he serve if he tore himself apart?

"You're right," you said, finally.

"What?" He asked, peering over his shoulder to look at you, incredulous.

"You're right," you repeated. "You can leave."

"I… well. I suppose I can leave. Do you… want me to?"

You suppressed a smile. "I don't really care," you lied.

"You…?" He turned around at that, hands on the bed as he swiveled his torso to meet your eyes. "You can't be serious. I- I made the effort to make sure Jess could cover me so we could come here, I… it's a huge waste of time. You see that, don't you?"

"I guess so." It was hard for you to break eye contact with him, but you managed to do it, and stared pointedly out the window.

"You 'guess,' I can't-" he rubbed his face with his hands. "You're so frustrating, I can't read you, you-"

Your face broke, betraying you, a smirk cracking your façade.

He narrowed his eyes, fully turning around now, bringing his knees up onto the bed to crawl to you. His claws came out, and they pulled at the threads of your comforter, threatening to tear holes. "Is this what you want? You want to make me mad?"

You blushed as he made his way to you, his sudden intensity stirring you into silence.

"Well?" He asked. "Suddenly so quiet." He reached you now, looming over you with both hands on the headboard on either side of you, his muscular thighs straddling your legs. His huge frame took up your whole vision, his presence overwhelming your heightened senses. Heat was radiating from his body. His scent washed over you. He was all clean musk and warmth and something deeper, something primal. It played to your baser mind, telling you to lose control and give in.

You swallowed. "You have no need to stay here." You weren't done teasing him just yet.

"But you have need, hm?" He looked down to study your form, releasing his hands from the headboard to touch the hem of your shirt. "Don't you?"

You held your breath, nodding.

"Say it." His tone was casual. Flippant.

Your breath left you as your lips parted to speak, the words far from you as your brain grew foggy. He always liked to hear you admit how much you wanted it, how much you wanted him. And he always asked you when he knew you'd struggle to form a response.

"Yes." It was the only thing your brain made abundantly clear. Yes. Yes, you have needs. Yes, in this moment, he was one of them.

"Yes what?"

How cruel. Under his gaze for this long, intense and bloodshot, you grew more flustered and delirious.

"Yes, Miguel, I have need of you." You impressed yourself with the eloquence of your reply.

"Oh? Oh, do you?" His hands finally moved again, snaking under the bottom of your shirt, the fabric of his suit keeping your skin from touching his. "That's kind of selfish of you, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes as his hands moved to firmly hold the sides of your waist, thumbs stroking soft skin. He was being careful to not scratch you. Though his claws were retractable, you noticed throughout your encounters that he had a hard time keeping them hidden when his passions were running high. But part of you didn't care if he marked you up. Part of you wanted to keep something from him. Something more than awkward passing glances and intimate encounters that were few and far between.

"M-Miguel?"

"Mm? What is it?"

"You don't need to be gentle, y’know."

His gaze flicked to meet yours as he raised an eyebrow. He seemed amused.

"It's just that," for some reason, you felt the need to elaborate. "I'm strong, too. I can handle it. You've been so stressed."

"So… you want me to use you?" His voice was low and level.

Use. The word sent a shock up your spine. He could see the emotions flashing across your face, the thoughts of him, of what he might do to you. Was this safe? Could he control himself? He'd have to. You'd just have to trust him.

You released a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, meeting him in his bloodshot eyes. "Yes. Please."

He grinned, bearing his pearly fangs in the flickering candlelight. The fog in your head grew thicker at the sight of them. Would he bite you with them? How would they feel against your skin? How would they feel piercing you? Would it hurt? Would it-

The feeling of his bare forefinger, claw retracted, gently teasing your slit quickly shut you up. When did he move his hand under the hem of your shorts? You were so deep within your own clouded thoughts, you hadn't even noticed. He caressed you there before carefully plunging his finger into your heat. The feeling was immediately maddening. You bit your lip to keep yourself from asking for more, for another finger, for his mouth, for his- no. You were following his pace. This was what you wanted, yes, but it was mostly for him. You somehow knew that he needed this more than you did, though he'd never admit it.

The whole time, he kept his reddened eyes on your face, studying every reaction. "You're wet, you're so wet…." His voice was quiet. "So, this is what does it for you, huh?" He pumped his finger at a steady pace. You could hear the wet sounds he elicited with his efforts. You braced yourself on his hulking shoulders, preparing for him to quicken at any moment. But he was agonizingly slow. His free hand gripped the headboard above you as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. "Me, your leader, using you." There was that word again. You lightly arched your back into him upon hearing it, trying to keep yourself calm for now. Falling apart could come later. "I try so hard to hold it all together. But you… you threaten me. The looks you give me, your smiles, your smell, estoy cachondo, fuck." Your eyes widened. He only spoke Spanish when his emotions were heightened. He was unraveling.

Good.

He slipped his digit out from inside of you and circled your clit with a slick fingertip. The feeling was intense and electric, and even though you were still half-pinned by his muscular thighs, your upper body curled into him. "Seeing you like this…" he swallowed, his heartbeat quickening. "Rendering you helpless… It's revenge for how you make me feel when you look at me the way you do. If I can make you feel half of that… that might be enough. You're going to come for me. Feel what I feel."

You nodded fervently, unable to speak under his attention, his words, his touch. That delicious, warm feeling was building up and coiling in your core as he kept expertly circling your clit, until the coil finally snapped and you came, lifting up off of the bed and throwing your arms around his neck as you whimpered. Miguel continued as you rode it out, reveling in the newfound wetness that came with your orgasm, until you finally settled down, your heart still thumping in your chest. You released your hold of him, your arms weak, your gaze heavy. He seemed to match your labored breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with yours. You had hardly even touched him and he seemed as much of a mess as you were.

He stared at you like that for a brief moment, seemingly awestruck at your reaction to this newly opened door.

"God, I need… I need your mouth around my cock." He flipped unceremoniously off of you to lay on his back at your side. "Come here." Before you had time to react, he had a hand on your head, guiding you downward. Despite the forceful movement, he fondly scratched at your scalp with bare fingers, his hand shaking just enough for you to notice. You positioned yourself so your head rested on his hard abdominals while you admired the display he brought you down to see. His hard cock pushed against his nearly metallic suit. The sheen of the fabric left almost nothing to the imagination. You could see his thick shaft, prominent veins like rivers flowing over a landscape, all leading up to the bulbous head. He twitched eagerly as he sighed, trying to calm his heart.

You reached your hand up to touch Miguel through his suit, and his reaction was bodily. He hissed a breath in through clenched teeth. You played with his hard length, running the flat of your palm up and down the underside of his shaft, until he couldn't take it anymore. He seemed to be able to dismiss parts of his suit at will, and he did just that, creating an opening so he could spring free. It was always an impressive sight, sizable and thick. His golden skin slightly red with anticipation at the head of his cock, soft dark waves of short hair at the base. Reaching up, you gently held it. You couldn't quite wrap your whole hand around it. He exhaled at your touch, skin on skin. The hand he had in your hair gently pushed your head until your waiting lips met the tip of his cock, and you accepted it, closing your mouth around it.

Miguel threw his head back, slamming it against the headboard and shaking the two of you on the bed. The sound startled you, but you knew the headboard would've taken more damage than Miguel. He gave no indication that he was hurt, and so you kept going, sucking on the tip of his cock and being as noisy as possible so it would overwhelm that heightened hearing of his. And overwhelm it did. The soft, wet heat of your mouth was nearly too much for him. And as you started to take him deeper, he reached his arms up and behind him, taking the headboard into a vice grip. You could hear the wood splintering.

That should've worried you, you should've cared about your furniture being destroyed. But you didn't. You couldn't, not with Miguel O'Hara melting underneath you. He could destroy a thousand bed frames. So long as you could touch him, could hear him moaning, could watch him as he barely held his composure. This would always be worth it.

You took him further into your mouth, humming around his length at the pleasant, full feeling. You were slow, holding him there, savoring the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.

"M-move-" he croaked.

You turned your gaze towards his face, raising an eyebrow. He was straining. Muscles bulging, chest heaving, fangs displayed in clenched teeth. You could see the prominent cracks in the wood.

"Move your shocking head, amor."

His hands came down to tangle with your hair, grabbing handfuls so he could move your head for you. You happily let him, and he bobbed you up and down on his shaft as you opened your throat to him.

"Oh, fuck, yes… that's it. Good girl. You're- you're taking me so fucking well."

Your eyes started rolling into the back of your head fondly. Good girl. He'd never called you that before. You'd be good for him. You'd be so good.

The sounds coming from you were the very definition of lewd, as were the strands of thick saliva that connected you to him. You closed your eyes, continuing to breathe through your nose, when you felt something prick your scalp. His claws. In and out, in and out. He was struggling to keep control of them.

"Ay, coño, I can't fucking do this." His voice barely a whisper. "You're gonna," he paused, swallowing. "You're gonna make me lose control, you know that?" Despite his words, he kept going, kept moving your head, even started to thrust his hips up to fuck your throat more thoroughly. His moans turned into what could only be described as growls, and the sound of them hit you like an electric shock, making you want him even more. If that were even possible.

His claws kept scraping you, threatening to fully unsheath. But Miguel never let them. He finally let your head go, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it in exhaustion. You stayed on his cock for a moment longer, carefully lifting your head away and disconnecting from him with a wet pop.

He groaned to himself through his hands.

"Miguel…? You alright?"

"No." He finally said, "no, I'm fucking not."

You cocked your head in surprise at the response, opening your mouth to question him further until you were cut off by him quickly grabbing you and positioning you underneath him. He was pinning your legs again, but you were faced down this time, your cheeks pressed against the soft sheets as he pushed you into the mattress. He finally let his claws out, and with one swift movement, tore your shorts and panties into ribbons. In that moment, you were glad he couldn't see your face. You were grinning like an idiot. Finally. You're finally seeing the side of him that you always knew was there. That you desperately wanted him to let out. Your previous encounters had been tame compared to this. He'd been holding back.

"Because now," he grabbed your waist with both of his large hands, holding firm. "Now I know that you like being treated like a little fucktoy. I know that you'll be good for me and that you'll listen. What a rarity." He started to line up the tip of his cock with your entrance. "And if I thought you took up too much space in my head already, well-" he chuckled, pushing his tip into your pussy. "I'll never have peace of mind again."

He thrusted into you, and you were immediately seeing stars. With each pump, he took himself nearly all the way out of your warmth before plunging all the way back in. You could feel every delicious, hot inch of him. So deep and so filling. He fucked you into the mattress so thoroughly and so hard that you were convinced a crater was forming underneath the both of you. You felt the sharp points of his claws pricking your skin but not quite puncturing you. Your head swam as you grew dizzy.

He released your waist, left hand steadying himself on the low headboard, which was bound to break again. His right arm snuck up underneath your right arm, reaching around your collarbone to grab at your left shoulder, pulling you up so you were close into him. His chest was flush with your back. You reached up to hold onto that arm for dear life, as he brought his mouth down to your ear.

"Wanna bite you so bad, amor," he growled. "You smell so shocking good. Drivin' me up a fucking wall."

"Do it," you said, your voice strained.

"Wh-what?" His pace wavered. "You can't mean that."

"I- fuck- I do. Bite me, Miguel. Please."

"Are you," he exhaled a shaky breath. "Are you sure? It's a paralytic venom. I've- I've used it on Spiders before and we can withstand it a bit, but, shit… I need you to know what you're getting into."

"Do it," you said again.

His entire body shook against you. "Unbelievable…." His voice sounded reverent. "Hold on tight."

You listened, gripping his arm harder, shutting your eyes. His mouth came down to meet the crook of your neck. He inhaled, letting your scent wash over him, before carefully sinking his fangs into your skin. The pain was sharp and fast, and was quickly replaced with a wave of warmth and laxity. Your muscles loosened, allowing him to easily pull you in even closer. He moaned against you, his thrusts quickening, his cock feeling like it was hitting your cervix. With every smack of his skin against yours, he buried himself to the hilt. That incredible, intense feeling was building within you again, deep inside your core.

"Fuck," he hissed into your skin, releasing his jaws and lapping at the light trickle of crimson blood. "Good girl, good girl, I've got you."

He held you and didn't let go, caging you against his huge form, fucking you until that feeling turned into a huge sunburst that sent spots across your vision. Your body trembled involuntarily as you clenched around his cock.

"Yes," he encouraged, "yes, come for me. Give it all to me. I've got you, bebé."

You smiled against the venom, and he was right, it wasn't too potent in your system. It was just enough to comfortably loosen your muscles. You came down from your high as he kept pumping into you, his pace merciless. His body started to shake again, his right hand's grip on your left shoulder tightening.

“Too much for me to handle,” he rasped. “I’m gonna come… gonna come inside you.”

“Yes,” you croaked, finding your voice and gaining back enough control of your muscles to push yourself up into him.

His tempo stuttered as he slammed his hips into you, curling against you as he came. His cock twitched inside of you, spilling hot seed in thick spurts. He held you there for a long while, savoring the feeling of being inside you, like he knew he'd miss the warmth once it was gone. Despite what he wanted, he let go of you and flipped onto his back beside you, placing a hand over his heart as his chest heaved. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. Silently reaching for you, he pulled you in so you could rest against his chest, your head rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. He stroked your hair as you stared up at him, his face glowing in the yellow shine of candlelight.

"That…" he started to say, then stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I…. I needed that."

You smiled, nuzzling into him. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me?" He asked, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded.

"Yeah," you said. "I feel like I finally saw Miguel tonight. Not Spider-Man. But Miguel. And I really like him."

He rolled his eyes but still smiled, petting your head until you fell asleep on him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #my writing #smut #mdom #i've crawled out of my hole for a new fic hi hello #i'm obsessed with him #this wasn't really beta read so my b if there are typos #trying out the new fic format that i see all over the place #someone on ao3 was kind enough to suggest some different words inn spanish so i've edited to include those #i'm not a native speaker so i'm open to suggestions #love you guys #also the ao3 link broke but it should work now lmaooo can you tell i published this at midnight #hold onto your shorts because i edited the spanish again lmao

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zelphin124 · 3 months

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Dust x YN Short Story

You simps... this is the result of this poll.

Uh, yeah... Here we go I guess.

THIS IS YOUR FAULT @kuuuuro YOU BIAS LIL NUGGET /lh

I swear I have motivation somewhere-

~o0o~

Twenty weeks.

You started to lose count of the days as you circled your cell. The sun was setting again, so your evening meal would arrive soon.

Nightmare had kidnapped you not so long ago. All you could gather was you were being used as a bargaining chip. If your friends didn't make enough negative energy in your AU, you would die.

Depression would be achieved either way.

You heard tales of the negative king. You know that he had a brother who was the positive opposite of him, you also heard fantasies of him having a soft spot for people, wanting to just have a time of rest.

None of those were true at all.

He was the definition of evil. He was cruel and treated everyone poorly to feed off it. He didn't care about anyone, not even his own employees, who were the ones that brought you food. He laughed in the face of requests and always got what he wanted, one way or another, often making others kill for him.

This led your train of thought to the various employees. There was Killer, the smiley, toxic one. He never shut up and obeyed Nightmare like a dog. He was the one who wanted to cause you the most pain. His addiction to blood and knives didn't help with that. You found it unsettling how much black ink dripped from his eyes when he looked at you. You knew he saw you as an object, nothing more. He has threatened to do horrendous things to you to please his boss... but... he hasn't laid a hand on you yet.

Horror was the second employee. He appeared to be the polar opposite of Killer in personality but equally as unsettling. He would stare at you for long hours, his bulging red eye unwavering and not blinking. You have overheard many conversations that he wanted to save you for a meal. Whenever he was hungry, he lingered not too far from you. If it weren't for the negativity he gave off when he was unable to eat you, you were sure Nightmare would've let him already.

Then there was Murder Sans. He was the quietest, and the one who didn't say much, if at all. The entire time you've known him, he lurked in conversations and only gave off nods, shrugs, and head shakes as communication. The other two employees were terrified of him; they often talked about his LV levels and how he could kill them easily. Although all of them were murderers, he was the only one reluctant to do it again.

Especially to you.

When he came to give you food, you didn't have to cower in the corner or tell them to leave. He barely said anything to you, but he's whispered enough words to tell you his voice was rasp and aloof. His eyes never narrowed at you, and he didn't stare like the others. If you caught him staring, he would respectfully look away, going about his business. He always ensured that you got the best food and that none of it dropped before it reached you. Sometimes, he would take the food that he got and give it to you. His coworkers always said he acted weird when he saw you, but you couldn't quite tell why.

You couldn't tell anything about him, in reality.

The door to your cell opened. You pressed yourself against the damp, cold, stone bricks of your cell, the chains around your ankles clamped tight. You prayed that it wasn't Killer again; you didn't want to fake happy feelings in your heart for Nightmare to come take him away.

You couldn't tell which coworker it was until their entire body walked down the stairs. They all wore the same clothing, and the only difference they had from one another was their faces.

You saw the hooded employee holding a candle in one hand and your food in the other. You sigh in relief, the pace of your heartbeat slowing down tremendously. His red eyes glowed softly as his gaze shifted towards you. He looked more tired than usual.

"Your food," he raises it up before setting it down by your feet.

You were starving. Before he could say anything else, you gulfed down the food before him, delighting at the taste of mashed potatoes and green beans. Although you used to be picky, prison has taught you to like every form of food. Anything that Dust brought you tasted good.

He watched you eat before sitting down in front of you. You didn't notice until your food was good. Thanking him for the food, you lay back down on the paved floor, hoping that you wouldn't get back pain as you slept.

Murder traced his hands across the floor before he looked back up at you. "It's boring in here, do you wanna watch a movie?"

At first, you were confused. Did you want to watch a movie? Of course you did; anyone would take that over sitting in a cell again all night. Heck, you haven't been out of the cell in weeks, and you started to smell, let alone go crazy. You nod, telling him you wish to, but you couldn't because you were chained-

The bones that flew through the chains around your frail body shattered as bones shot up from the ground. For the first time, the weight of the metal was off your skin, setting you free. You reach down and rub your ankles and wrists, which you were unable to touch weeks before.

As you were distracted, you felt hands wrap around your waist and legs. Your eyes widen as he hoists you up into his arms and carries you out of the stall. You yelp from shock, asking him what's going on.

"I need a movie partner. Horror doesn't want to watch movies with me anymore," he explained nonchalantly. "And call me Dust, please."

You were about to ask more questions but kept your mouth shut as he carried you through the castle and up the stairs. You passed the dining room where the rest of the castle inhabitants were.

"Pass me the sauce Horror!" Killer cried.

"No, I'm using it." Horror dumped a large amount of sauce onto whatever he was eating.

"You're going to eat it all!" Killer whined.

"Both of you shut up," Nightmare twirled his food around with a fork, looking slimy as ever.

Despite being so close to your kidnappers, they did not notice you and Dust. Not even Nightmare caught a glimpse of the silent worker carrying you up toward his room, as if he had years of practice slipping away...

As he opened the door to his room, you were greeted with a heavy scent of forest pine. His windows were open and a soft breeze blew into his room. It wasn't the most tidy room, there were a few hooks and a red scarf lying across the floor. His bed was massive and faced a TV, which was on its home screen. There was little to no light besides the gaping moon outside.

Dust set you down by the bathroom door. "Shower, clean, whatever you do I guess," he scavenged through his dresser. He pulled out a hoodie and some sweatpants. "I just washed these, will these work?"

The clothes he gave you looked so comfortable, and nothing would do besides the rags you were in currently. You didn't waste time and headed into the shower, finally cleaning yourself of the prison stench you had become so accustomed to. Despite Dust's appearance, it was clear that he took good care of himself. He seemed to have a higher respect for himself than the others.

As you walk out, you barely put on the hoodie, finding Dust on his bed scrolling through different videos. He glanced you up and down and patted the bed next to him. "Do you have a movie preference?"

You inform him of one of the movies you used to watch. Dust shrugged and pulled it up on screen as you sat beside him. Although you tried to keep your distance out of respect, he pulled you closer to him and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. A single pillow was what kept you from being buried in his chest.

You felt the blood rush to your face. Why was he being so nice? You were a prisoner, yet he treated you like a comrade, if not like royalty. He offered you popcorn and watched the movie in silence, asking only two questions throughout the show. He was polite, and he made sure you had enough blankets to keep you warm, and he offered his hand to squeeze when you got scared at certain parts.

When Killer came banging on the door, Dust gestured to you to stay quiet as he changed his voice, barely talking to Killer through the door and telling him to go away. However, he seemed very tired when he sat on the bed again... and fell asleep on your lap.

At first, you panicked. What happens if someone barges through the door? If someone sees you, what will you say? Would they finally kill you?

But something else told you that there was a reason why you weren't dead yet. Perhaps Dust advocated for you and kept you alive behind your back. Perhaps he didn't want you dead. After all, he did want to watch a movie with you.

You gasp from surprise as Dust's arms wrap around you like he is hugging the most treasured thing in the world. His face was buried in your shoulder, and he breathed slowly. If you hadn't fallen for the skeleton and all the kind things he's done for you yet, you sure did now. He was so peaceful as you stroked his head, not moving so he could sleep. He was so kind to you, giving you food and finally freeing you from prison.

You couldn't figure out why but decided not to think about it as your own eyes got droopy. Despite your situation, you had no trouble falling asleep in Dust's arms.

Maybe you'll wake up from this wonderous dream.

Or maybe you'll find out that there is good in everyone after all.

#dust sans #murder sans #sans x reader #sans x yn #yn #utmv #dust sans x yn #undertale au #sans au #undertale

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rancidpancakebatter · 1 year

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"Uhluhu" - [M.M.]

Pairings: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader

Summary: Matt tells he loves you, and you want to say it back

Word Count: 1.6k words

Content: Like nothing. Safe for all.

( Masterlist )

A/N: Sorry, I've been on a bit of a hiatus. Finals are coming up and it's super stressful so I haven't gotten to write much. I found this in my drafts so I'll let yall have it. Hopefully, it will hold you over for a bit.

You had been dating Matt for several months now. You met him as the devil first. He was limping through the alley, and you heard him curse as he tripped over a trash can. When you looked out your window, you saw him collapse face-first in grime. You called out to him but heard no response. So against your better judgement, you climbed down your fire escape to check on the stranger.

Matt woke up with a familiar feeling of deja-vu. He woke up on a soft towel draped over a couch, shirtless, with gentle hands tending to his wounds. His waking up was not peaceful in any way. He bolted upright with a large gasp ripping from his chest. You fell back on the floor in surprise at his outburst.

He rattled off a lot of questions, and it took you a moment to respond to them as you tried to coax him into lying back down. You told him your name, where you had found him, and that he was about to bleed out from a bullet wound.

“Luckily for you, it was a clean shot. I don't know how to fish out a bullet, but I was able to find a decent tutorial for stitches. You should be fine if you rest.”

Matt learned to trust you over time. You never asked for his identity or pushed him to talk about his past. He respected you for that.

One night you got a text from him. It was only an address. You made your way up in the shaky elevator and knocked tentatively on the door. You were surprised when a blind man answered and greeted you by name.

He asked you a bunch of questions about The Black Mask and what you knew of him, but you refused to answer, going as far as to threaten him. He chuckled at you as he opened a beer.

“Trust me, honey, I’m not someone you wanna pick a fight with.”

You bristled at the nickname, but something about his voice was familiar. You raised the candle you grabbed from the coffee table higher, ready to swing if he got closer.

He walked past you and opened up an armoire in the corner. You couldn’t see what he was doing. He threw something at you that you struggled to catch it. You ran your fingers over the familiar dark material. He heard your heart race before it started to settle again, and he knew then that you had connected the dots.

“Really? A candle? What was your plan there?” He asked with a teasing condescension you’ve come to love.

You chuckled as you set it back down. “I was gonna use that right hook you taught me.”

It wasn’t long until he asked you out, the next day if you remembered correctly. He introduced you to his friends one night at Josie’s. Foggy and Karen adored you, and It was funny to see Matt’s lifelong friend tease him.

“I mean honestly, what do you see in this ruffian?”

“I dunno Foggy, I guess he’s charming. In his own…weird…brooding way”

Dating Matt has changed your life. You have never known true admiration- devotion- like his. Anything you ask for, he would deliver (if he had the financial means to do so). He had been working on a healthy life balance for a while and with you, he felt he had it. And he felt the need to pay you back for that in any way he could. Flowers, home-cooked meals, cuddles, you name it.

You were a well-known writer for The Bulletin. You often got to work from home. For the past month, you’ve been working from Matt’s. He had joked a few times about how you “moved in,” and if he noticed the way your heart raced when he said that, he didn’t mention it.

You had been burned in the past. Pretty severally. So your relationship with Matt seemed almost unreal a lot of the time. While you didn’t have the crushing catholic guilt Matt did, you still had some baggage you were carrying around.

Last week Matt told you that he loved you. He assured you that you didn’t have to say it back, that he still meant it either way. He’s said it every night as you drifted off to sleep and every morning as he left for work since then. Those three little words.

You wanted to say them back- you really really did. You knew that if you spoke them, you would mean it; it would be the truth. Truthfully you did. But what a terrifying truth. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You wanted to move in officially. You want to wake up to him every day. You wanted the good and the bad and the ugly. You wanted him, devil and all. But no matter how many hours you spent hyping yourself up, when he came home, you just couldn’t do it.

You decided to change that today. You couldn’t let him go any longer thinking you don’t feel the same way. You could say it; you had to say it.

You spent all evening cooking chicken piccata with homemade noodles. You went to the farmers market this morning to get fresh, local ingredients because you know Matt can taste the preservatives on grocery produce. You even baked fresh bread, made fruit tarts, and currently, you were tossing a salad.

You had put on some of Matt’s vinyls, and when he walked in, he was almost overwhelmed. He could smell your cooking from the front entrance, and it only got closer as he approached his apartment. He could hear you humming and singing along once he got to his floor, and your gentle footsteps could be heard against the kitchen tiles.

You heard the door open and were sure Matt could hear your heart rate pick up. You walked away from the stove and saw him taking off his coat.

“Matty!”

You ran into his arms, and he didn’t hesitate to catch you, spinning you around and holding you close. You melted into his embrace as you buried your head into his neck, taking a deep breath and letting his woodsy cologne wash over you. His hands were pressed flat against your back; you could feel his warmth soaking you to the bone. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Your sauce is starting to stick.” You could hear the smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you and liked to rile you up.

“Oh shit,” you mumbled as you dropped down from his arms and raced back into the kitchen to stir.

He followed after you at a much more leisurely pace, leaning against the island as you worked.

“Let’s see here, I smell…chicken, lemons, garlic, raspberries, bread, parsley, and…is that fresh capers?”

You grinned, “Yes, bloodhound, these are fresh capers. I wanted to make you a nice dinner. Now go get changed and comfy. It’s almost ready.”

You felt his hands on your waist and leaned back into him on instinct. He took the opportunity to place a kiss on your temple.

“On it boss.”

He stepped into the bedroom, and you began setting up the island. You arranged the plates and placed the glasses of water (and an opened beer next to Matt’s). By the time he returned, you were taking the rolls out of the oven.

The power Matthew Murdock held was entirely too dangerous. He emerged wearing a v-neck and his trusty grey sweats. You knew he felt your stare. He could probably hear your heart rate pick up at the sight of him. His smile grew into that smirk you knew very well, and you knew he knew.

Dinner was great and went off without a hitch. He told you about his day, and you did the same. You talked about big and small, and all the things of the world. He continues to complement your cooking, praising you after every bite. You brought out the fruit tarts, and the both of you munched on them happily.

Matt set his fork down and looked at you curiously. “What’s all this about?”

You frightened confusion, and Matt decided to play along. “The food was wonderful, but why did you make a three-course dinner? What’s the occasion?”

You set your fork down, wiped your mouth with the napkin sitting you your lap, and place it on the counter. Matt could sense your anxiety and wondered if something was wrong.

“There’s no… occasion, per se. It’s more of an announcement.” Matt tilted his head, and you continued.

“I uh-” You cleared your throat, trying to force the words out. “I…”

Matt was patient, silently reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. His own anxiety melted when he felt your pulse slow.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why it’s so hard to say,” you admit with an air of defeat.

A knowing smile makes its way onto Matt’s face.

“You want me to guess?” he asked, giving your hand another reassuring squeeze.

“No, no. I want to say it. I want you to hear it come from me.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You had been practising saying it all day, saying the words over and over again.

You forced out the words on your exhale. “Uhluhu”

Matt tilted his head, ”What?”

You took another breath and squeezed his hand, “I love you.”

His face split into a grin. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. You suddenly felt light.

“I love you, Mathew Murdock. I love you.”

You couldn’t stop saying it.

“I love you too.” He said, oh so quietly, but his words dripped with their truth.

Tag List: @barbecuetiddy, @heejinw0rld, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @purple-amaranthe, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz,

#rancid writes #marvel #daredevil #daredevil netflix #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock fluff #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil imagine #daredevil blurb #daredevil fluff

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starstruck-cupid · 1 year

Text

The Sweater

Part 3 of untitled Charlie fic. Please help me name it.

( part one, part two )

(edit: name change. Formerly unnamed)

A/N: I'm very tired so this might not be my best work. I really appreciate all of the support! It means a lot that people are enjoying what I've written. I hope everyone is well and enjoys this story. I know it's going slow now, but it'll speed up soon.

TW: use of the word god (once?), mentions of stalking, mentions of absent parents, mentions of panic attack, mentions of passing out, possible insinuations of being drugged, reader being forced to drink water

//////////////////////////////////////////<3///////////////////////////////////////////

"What the fuck?" I whispered in a dumbfounded manner.

After blankly staring at my phone for a minute, letting the video reply over and over, I look at Charlie. He's asleep. I'm not sure when he fell asleep, but he's out cold.

I shouldn't tell him. He's going through enough. It was probably some stupid joke. Putting my phone down, I turn my attention back to the movie. Past me was smart for picking something long. I run my hands through Charlie's hair in a failed attempt to calm myself. I couldn't shake the stiffness of my muscles.

Today was Sunday. Tomorrow I'd be back at school, and I could fully ignore this incident.

After a few hours of snoring and staring at a sleeping Charlie, the charming boy finally woke up. Slowly looking up at me, Charlie noticed my thoughtful face.

"What's wrong?" concern bled out of his voice.

"Nothing," I said, knowing he would see right past my lie.

"You know you can tell me anyone, right, bunny?" He knew that I would tell him anything after hearing that name.

It always reminds me of the first time Charlie and I actually talked. I was too high to remember if I was wearing a full costume or not, but on the top of my head sat a pair of black bunny ears. That was the first thing Charlie pointed out when we were left alone, and it's stuck with him for the last 3 years.

"Can you stay the night? I'm afraid to be alone." I anxiously asked.

"Too many horror movies?" He knew that wasn't the case, but he was too nice to make that knowledge known. "Let me go home and grab some stuff."

As he slides out of the bathroom window, my anxiety rises again. With no one else in the house for a while, I was afraid the unknown person would come back. I was used to being alone. My dad was always gone, trying his best to keep money coming. I love him, but the feeling of isolation was one I was far too used to. Charlie was the only help.

I need a bath. No, wait. I crave a bath. I go to grab clothes, settling on a random horror movie t-shirt, a flannel, and a pair of pajama shorts. So Charlie knows I'm bathing; I open the bedroom window and I close the bathroom window. Usually, once I was in, we'd open the door and we'd continue our conversation, but with the recent state of him and Kirby, I decided he probably needed a small break from me. Before shutting the bathroom door, I quickly wrote a note stating that I was indecent.

Turning the lights off, lighting the candles, and running the water, I was finally able to relax for the first time all day.

My phone started ringing.

At first, I ignored it. If it was anything important, they could call the landline. The people closest to me know I hate phone calls, so they won't call.

Immediately, I hear it ring again. Getting out of the tub with a sigh, I quickly wrapped my towel around myself and walking into my bedroom.

Begrudgingly, I answer "Hello?"

A deep, robotic voice replied, "Hello." Something about it was familiar.

"Who is this? Can I help you?"

"You know who it is." I heard a blunt, almost threatening reply.

"No, I don't."

"You sure about that? Aren't you supposed to be a movie buff?"

"I guess," I sourly replied in confusion.

"Don't you know the movie Stab?" That's when it clicked. This is the Ghostface voice.

"This isn't funny." Are you the same person who sent that video? I could have you arrested!" I angrily replied to the prankster.

"The people you surround yourself with won't make it much longer." There was a pause. "You, though? I'd like to keep you around for a bit." Then he hung up.

Suddenly, everything felt cold and hot at the same time. I felt exposed, uncomfortable in my own skin. I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe? Everything feels so far away.

Attempting to make it to my bed, I fell. As I fell, trying to grasp whatever was around me, I hit my side. Still sore from falling the previous night, I hissed in pain. Everything hurts. Where is Charlie? He could fix this. I can't move. Why can't I move?

I hear Charlie come in soon after. I could tell because he shut the window, which had been squeaking recently. As soon as he realizes I'm on the floor, he runs to me, forcing me to take sips of the water he brought.

Then everything went black.

Fluttering my eyes open, everything feels so weird. Like I snorted a line of melatonin. God, what time is it? Finally regaining my vision, I look at my clock. 10 pm. How long was I out for? When did I get dressed? I can hear the shower.

Slowly getting up, I shuffle to the door and knock. The shower promptly shuts off. I hear shuffling. Soon enough, Charlie opens the door, only wearing a towel, loosely tied around his waist.

"I'm sorry," I shot out quickly but quietly.

Charlie doesn't say anything. He just hugs me. Charlie, hugging me, in only a towel. What I'm feeling right now seems so foreign to me. Sure, I've felt this way before, but not about Charlie. Never Charlie.

Realizing I'm not hugging back, Charlie, with his hand on my cheek and thumb on my chin, he pushes my face up a bit to look at his.

"Are you okay?" a concerned tone echoing through my ears. I didn't want to tell him. It was just a stupid joke. There's nothing to concern him about.

Instead of telling him, I just nodded. Unable to let out a sound. I didn't want to lie. I couldn't lie to him. I was fine now, so it wasn't a lie.

He silently points to the bed. Understating what he meant, I shuffle over. Pulling the blankets back, I slide under. I need this. Charlie, still in only a towel, walks to my stack of DVDs. Quickly grabbing the first Stab movie, he puts it in and beelines to the bathroom to get dressed, leaving the door open.

I did not want to watch this. I couldn't tell Charlie that.

After some shuffling from the bathroom and the sound of the movie ringing out, I finally closed my eyes. I am safe. Charlie wouldn't ever let something happen to me. As I near sleep, I hear him attempting to silently walk to my bed. As the sound got closer, I felt the bed dip behind me.

Charlie and I always shared, usually ending up snuggled together. After a while, we just gave up on keeping space between us.

I felt his arm slip under mine and wrap around my waist. For the first time, I don't have to convince myself that I am safe. I can feel it.

I wanted this every night.

#charlie walker #charlie walker x reader

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hirsheyskisses · 1 year

Text

Novel.

A Whole New World: Pt. 1

Summary: in this new world, you find yourself to be faced with a strange man. He claims to have friends, friends who can help. Help you from what? None of this, nothing in this world feels like your own.

Length: medium.

An: any questions or ideas? Ask away my sweets!

"Oh? Are you finally awake?"

Though soft, and cautious, the sudden voice caused you to practically leap to the ceiling. Your eyes locked onto a man, a man who stood just peeking around the corner at you.

Nothing about him appeared to be immediately threatening, but that didn't change the fact that you'd either been kidnapped, or some inter-dimensional portal had thrown you into his rather dusty house.

Let's be real, it's probably the first option, you think to yourself.

You didn't say a word. Instead, you eyed him. Your hands were raised in front of your body, prepared to perform self defensive tactics should the need arise.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I don't even know how you got here,"

The male rounded the corner fully, allowing you a full view of him. As the sun glistened through, you made mental note of his appearance: he's slim, but doesn't seem weak. A two toned blue hair, dyed, you decided, golden earrings, piercing blue eyes- and heels? You dig it. Doesn't change the fact you don't trust him. He wore a tight black shirt and pants, but over that was a white cloak with what appeared to be card designs.

"Yeah right," you scoffed, "you do a horrible job kidnapping me and come up with an even worse lie! Atleast come up with something a little less lame than 'I don't know how you got here.'"

Was passing off your captor a good idea? Definitely not. But you did it anyways.

"Hey now," He complained, "you didn't even give me a chance to explain what happened! This is breaking and entering.

"Besides, if I was gonna kidnap you, I would've tied you up or something so you can't escape."

He tapped the side of his head as though forcefully visualizing the thought of 'logic' in your mind. Well fuck. He had a point, but that didn't make you trust him.

"I can guess by your reaction you're just as confused as I am. Or, was. You've been out for a couple of hours, and I had time to discuss with a friend possibilities of what could've happened.

"Allow me to introduce myself- I'm Ike Eveland. A novelist - you just so happened to be thrown into my house."

Ike, his name was. He stared at you expectantly, and you realized he wanted you to introduce yourself as well. Understandable.

"(Name.) (Full name.) ...nice to.. meet you? My memory feels fuzzy. ...so you're.. not a kidnapper?"

This time Ike let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "No. I just happen to be who you stumbled across. Say, where are you from?"

It was concerning how comfortable Ike looked about this whole situation. Your mind felt fuzzy and you could barely even remember the answer the question he asked. Why was he so okay with this? What did he know that you didn't? More importantly, why didn't he call the cops on you?

"...From (location). Are we anywhere near there?"

"...huh? Where's that?"

"In (district/state) , (country). Why?"

Ike suddenly looked confused. You didn't understand why, so you threw out, "on (continent)." That made him even more confused, and he motioned down the hall. "...follow me."

As the he led the way, you realized what a long hallway this was. Dark, lit by candles, with doors that branched off into more halls, and the open rooms leading to boxes of many different themes. Your curiosity was gradually getting the better of you, and it took all of your self control not to ask a torrent of questions.

Ike walked in silence, deep in thought. The only sounds from him were the slight tap, tap, taps of his heels.

Soon enough he approached what you assumed to be an office: a rustic looking desk stacked with books, quills, and ink. He rummaged through papers before pulling out a map, spreading it out, and,

"Point to me where it is you come from."

"Well I come from-"

Slowly, you trailed off. Looking at the map, you realized something: the shape of their continents. They didn't look anything remotely similar to what you know! And.. Kingdoms. Kingdoms and Queendoms and lone territories covered the map instead of states or districts or sectors.

"...where AM i?"

You finally asked. Slowly but surely, fear settled in your gut.

Ike released a soft sigh, shaking his head. "That confirms Shu's suspicions. You're not even from here. I can tell from the look on your face," He was staring at you in total disbelief.

Whilst you were staring at him in absolute terror, too shocked - too scared to speak.

This had to be a dream.

"You're here, in Tamron Queendom. More specifically, Zhilford. Close to the palace, actually, less than two days travel." Ike explained, pointing at the map and where it was labeled Zhilford.

"...this is a dream. This is.. Ike, pinch me."

You were staring to shake. Ike mightve laughed at the request had he not seen the look of fear on your face. He reached over and gently pinched your arm, and watched your face fall completely.

"Hey. Listen, I'm not the one who should explain things. I only know Shu's suspicions, and he'll be back with the others in a bit. ..why don't I get you some water? We can ask each other questions, or you can have a look around."

Ike said kindly. Something in his eyes felt so reassuring. The former distrust you felt from him was evaporating, but you latched onto just a bit of that feeling. You couldn't relax. Not just yet.

"Sure, sounds good.. ...thanks."

Your voice was quiet. Ike could only imagine just how vulnerable you felt. You couldn't even process how he might feel.

Both of you went to the kitchen in an awkward silence. He got you a glass of water, and you sat by the island before finally, you had to ask.

"How are you.. so comfortable? You don't seem that shocked about this.. I mean. I get you're still in your world, but you must be confused. ..right?"

Ike hummed, as if in thought.

"Well.. I am confused. In many ways. Confused about how our lands don't seem to match up- curious how you got here. But magic does many unexplainable things."

"Magic?"

"Well, indeed. The world practically runs from the power of magic. Sorcery, witchcraft, or even the simple belief." Ike replied, taking a dip of his water.

"..but magic isn't real. It's just something made up to make kids have more imsgination."

"...huh?"

Ike looked absolutely dumbfounded by your comment, almost as if you'd slapped him.

"...magic is very much real! What world could you possibly come from where magic isn't real?" He asked, and you felt.. oddly defensive.

"I come from a world where one could say technology is our magic. We don't make portals or potions or fight with magical fire."

You explained sheepishly. Ike simply stared before adjusting his glasses.

"....magic is real. My friend, the one I said could explain better, is a sorcerer. Ones a former demon king, as well."

Had someone said this to you where you were from, you'd have laughed it off as some cringe kid. But now, you were almost finding it believable.

"Sorcerer? I hardly even know 'er!"

"I see our sleeping beauty is awake. You gave us quite a fright."

"Ohoo, you're awake? Nicee, man!"

"Pog!"

Four voices startled you out of your staring at Ike, and your head snapped around. Four unfamiliar faces peered back at you. Once again, that feeling of pure fear was rising in your stomach, and you slid off the island chair and slinked a bit closer to Ike.

The red-headed one in- what looked to be a cloak picked up on your unease quickly. You could tell from his step back. The other three, not so much.

"Names Shu Yamino! I'm the sorcerer, anddd.. you were indeed thrown by a portal here!"

"Mysta Rias, at your service!"

"I'm Luca! It's so pog to meet you!"

One was about ikes height, with- an odd bit of hair that you personally thought looked like a banana. The other wore what looked to be a fox hat and a big grin, and the third a very large man with tattoos, a fluffy cloak, and an even bigger grin than the lasts.

"I'm Vox Akuma. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The final voice- it was a dangerous voice. If this is a world where we consider fiction real, you thought, then he must be a siren. His voice, so deep and smooth, threatened to pull you into a state of calm so smooth you thought you'd die.

"Stop crowding them! In case you'd forgotten, they're still very overwhelmed." Ike finally spoke up, ushering them back a few paces. "Shu, your suspicions were right. I've never even heard of where they're from, and (name) doesn't even recognize our map. They've never heard of Tamron Queendom, let alone Zhilford."

Shu nodded, turning his attention to you. "The night you came crashing in here, I could feel an odd shift in energy. A bit of research led me to what happened - a shift in space, if you would. Alternate Worlds have always been a possibility. I'll give a bet that even your time had ideas and theories."

When you nodded, Shu continued on. The others were paying close attention as well.

"What could've happened, though I'm not really sure- was a spell gone horribly wrong, or a large gathering of magic in one space until bam!- space gets split open, and whatever is in that space gets dropped to the nearest world.

"In many worlds, but for this scenario I'll use ours, and even in this Queendom, we've gotten odd technology. We've never seen it before, though some we've been able to recreate. So advanced and confused. It's strongly believed they were due to openings in space.

"You, in any case, are a living example of it. Portals themselves are even harder to create. If you truly don't recognize the map, then it confirms the theory."

Shu inhaled, "so long story short, space go "weee" and snatch you. Make sense?"

Your head was absolutely spinning. It made sense but Jesus, he was so confident in his explanation! So many questions, but,

"...will I be able to go back home?"

The question all five of them had truly be dreading. The all looked downcast, and you understood. But then Shu perked back up and said,

"I'll do my best! I have connections and it'll be.. good for me to learn."

"Don't you worry bout a thing! You've got us now!" The large one, Luca, threw an arm around your shoulders and stared at you with the largest of grins. Mysta jumped in, "yeah bro! We can learn all about eachother."

"You aren't alone. We made the decision to help you assuming you weren't a crazy person. Which, you clearly aren't." Vox reassured. You noticed, and were thankful for, his respectful distance. It was all so, so overwhelming.

"..thank you."

The smallest of smiles finally found its way onto your face. Ike smiled as well, "who wants to show them around? I've got some errands to run."

"If it's all the same, Ike, I wanna tag along with you. Missed some shopping on my way here."

Which left you with the three jokingly crazies. Mysta, Shu, and Luca.

Luca was the first to perk up, "I'll do it! I claim this!" "Awh cmon man, no fair! Rock paper scissors me. Right now."

Mysta demanded. You couldn't help but snicker a bit- they treated this like some sort of honor to do. You met eyes with Shu and he grinned, waving a farewell as he whisked down the halls with a quick farewell.

"Rock, paper.. scissors!" Mysta threw rock, Luca threw rock. "Again! Rock, paper, scissors!" Luca threw scissors, Mysta threw paper. "Ohh damn it!" "Yes! Pog!" Luca and Mysta both said in unison.

You chuckled softly and Ike quickly spoke up to prevent a sulking Mysta, "you can show them around Zhilford later. Sound fair?"

"Oh finee. Ike said your name was (Name), right? Catch ya later!"

As the others made their exit, you felt that same sense of unease. Completely alone with another stranger.

Luca was still smiling at you, not the least bit bothered by your unease.

"Let's go! This place is huge! We actually only recently moved in," Luca explained to you, glancing around. "This be the kitchen! And over there," Luca pointed to a rather large room, "is the dining room." Three exits through the kitchen: one from the hallway, one large opening to the living room, and then a separate dining hall. Got it.

"Alright. Got it."

"Living room.." Luca carried on explaining rooms as they went. Bathrooms, pantry, storage rooms, apparently this place was an old abandoned castle the five had bought recently.

"And coming up, we have the library."

As the blonde man opened the door for you, you felt your jaw hit the floor. It was huge! Books of all different sizes and shapes and series with shelves that went to the roof and so many books.

You were in heaven.

Luca laughed, "you look even more awestruck than Ike did! Most of the books came with the place- but there's multiple empty shelves in the back Ike wants to fill up."

You glanced back at him with a childish smile, "I remember the first time I went to a Barnes and noble-" at the look of confusion on his face you added, "-big book store. It was heaven."

This was even more so heaven because one of these books may contain anything- even a hint- on how to get back. Luca must've thought the same.

"Say, (Name), what do you do where you're from?"

"I worked as a baker. What do you do?"

"Ohh, a baker? That's cool! Vox is the best cook, but I'm not so sure he can bake. I'm a mafia boss!"

He crossed his arms with pride, but that sent a shiver down your spine. "Mafia.. boss.. right.." You muttered, and Luca smiled in response. "Ya don't gotta be scared. I know I'm big n scary," he puffed out his chest a bit, which he had a rather- large chest- "-but as long as ya don't give me reason to think otherwise, you're under my protection!"

He reassured you, holding a hand out. Unsure what he wanted, you gave him an awkward- low high five? Which caused Luca to break into a fit of laughter as he grabbed your hand and shook it.

Of course that's what he wanted-

"I think you'll fit right in."

#luxiem x reader #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji x reader #ike eveland #luca kaneshiro #shu yamino #mysta rias x reader #vox akuma #mysta rias #niji en #nijisanji #nijien #nijisanji luxiem #a whole new world

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thescribeoflostmemories · 2 years

Note

Lets see,, Yan!Pantalone with a fallen deity (your typical chinese deities if you are familiar with it) fem!reader. So back when Pantalone was still in a bad state, reader tried her best to take care of him, either protecting him from threats, occasionally splashing him some luck with food, money, etc. Then again, he was not the only one who was favored. He heard that you appeared in one of the kid's dream and that made Pantalone's upset and envious. He was not favored and blessed with a normal life nor a vision by the gods from his world, and when he realized you were looking after him, it made him so happy, taking it as some kind of special treatments that's only reserved for him only to find out that it's not. You didn't show yourself to him but instead to someone's else? He'll take note about this for the 'future encounter'

Years passed and he's one of the harbingers now. He was on his trip for his work until he heard rumors about a temple for a fallen deity down the town. Pantalone was familiar with all the roads and could easily found you sleeping next to an altar. It's the spot where the homeless children would usually hang around, a spot he used to hang around. What should he do to confirm his suspicion? Simple, he only had to take a look at you and matched your appearance with what the kid once told him. It was a long process to make him speak up and he was glad you didn't realize it was he himself who beat your 'favorite'. Everything about were true to his description except for the fading wounds around your whole left face & body

You opened your eyes and met him. Bingo, it's you. The rest is up to you i guess *peaces out*

IDK IF IM REQ IT CORRECTLY IDK WHY I WROTE SO MUCH FOR ADDITIONS

"I'm just returning the favour."

"A mere friendly reminder bubbles; kindness, is a slow and insidious killer" -Scribe

Don't sweat it bubbles, it makes it a lot easier. Also big fan!

R+18 usual yandere stuff, light sexual themes (implied!), MDI. Should I even put this as restrictive?

Ps. I did this instead of my assignment.

(Yan! Pantalone x Fallen deity! Reader)

¶¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¶

You remembered your humble, venerable and opulent temple. Sitting proudly between the ever so advancing buildings that threatened to tear your land down. Once bustling with life now fell to ruin as time marches on. Your 'Brothers and Sisters' from all different directions of wealth led astray, leaving you all alone in this desolate home. Time has little to no meaning to you as a deity, guarding the temple is no easy feat.

They took everything from you, just as how much you gave to the poor and unfortunate souls that you used to watch over carefully using your round fan. Being the least reliable one, your siblings did most of the work. While you hid away from the prying eyes of people, only to appear in dreams using the fan.

Your body aches as you lift your face away from the rotting wood table, it used to hold candles and other things for one session of prayer. Opening your dull (color) eyes to see someone has entered the premise of your pitiful abode. It is not a child, but a man with luxurious black hair, pitch dark attire. You had noticed that his hands are adorned with cold colored rings to match his imperial like image. All you could make out is the awe-strucked look upon his face, it doesn't seem like he's from around here.

"If you are here to seek treasure, I'm afraid there's nothing left for you here." Your gentle voice sounded hoarse from your years of slumber to recover.

Gaining a chortle from him, he replied; " Dear, you claim that I seek what you thought of but it is not the case. It's unbecoming of me to see such a lovely woman like yourself in a rumble like this. " He lightly smiled, slowly getting closer to you.

You sat up properly, tattered red and gold robes shifted to your stance. Headdress jingled slightly from movement. It was then he had seen clearly the slow convalesce of your current condition. Even with it, you're just as beautiful as the moon.

He never felt so happy in his life. Forget gold, he struck a diamond mineshaft. That poor, helpless look on your face gives him joy and an excuse to give you all the riches in the world has to offer.

Your mind muddled, trying to recollect where you have seen this man before. His smile is familiar, yet comes up with nothing. "Forgive me but, who are you?" A genuine question left your lips, he frowned a bit.

A prospect came to mind that put him at ease, "I am Pantalone, your unwavering follower. I have come to help you." He bowed his head before extending his hand to you once there was no space between them. It was no lie that he is an admirer of your works for he had bought and commissioned statues of you made in gilded gold with the exact description he was given beforehand. Though that would soon be forgotten since he has found the real deal. Worth more than what he could imagine. Immaculate, pious, and charitable…

"Pantalone…" Hearing his name out from your mouth nearly made him shiver in delight.

Seeing no reason to be here, clinging to those haunting memories would only hurt. Yet, something is holding you back. What if they come back?

"You won't get hurt once you're with me, darling. My promise to you, that every single day will be filled with nothing but joy." Pantalone widened his lips once he saw the faint hesitance.

An offer that you couldn't deny after the fall of your Godhood. Dainty hand emerged from the long red sleeve to hold his own. Sealing her fate to him, a tie that could never be severed.

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The Regrator's plan seemed simple but a rather tedious thing. He wouldn't want to kill the golden goose before it rewards him. Right now he has you within arms reach, next to him.

Just as he promised, daily you were showered in praises and extravagant gifts. From exotic clothing to matching shoes, down to the little things. Everything you wore screams 'mine'.

Of each day, he'll admire the crowning jewel among his sparkling collection of gold, you. He isolates the fair maiden from the others, saying that the world is a dangerous place. One where people could swallow a person whole, greedy people would take advantage of a sweet little thing like you. Awful people that could restrict you, do awful things that you didn't want. Just like what your 'siblings' had warned you of and it only reinforced your thoughts to stay, ironic.

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Our dazzling protagonist had resigned herself to her fate in his hands. Deft hands arrange the hair pins that perched proudly on her head. "Now that looks lovely, just like I imagined you would be." Indeed she is. Pantalone had longed to see you, his vying envy had been satiated. He would have rubbed it in that fatso's face, but oh well. Not like he could boast about it when the guy's six feet under. Thinking of it now it's rather silly of him to be so riled up about others meeting her in a dream, when in reality the Regrator had won a miracle instead!

For now, he's glad he has her in his home. Preparing tea for him to calm his nerves while wearing the gifts he bestowed upon her. Demure woman shyly covers half of her face from him, eyes batted at him so innocently. Her beauty could even shame the Tsaritsa herself.

"My dear jewel." Pantalone sighed lovingly, caressing her face. His plan is going into motion. The look upon his love's face, so sweet like lace.

"Mm?" The fallen deity runned her cheek more to him, touched-starved. She felt his thumb on her soft lips. Cheeks dusted with pink hue. That made him smile at her bashful attitude.

Leaning closer to her ear and whispering. "Please, be mine." Followed by a kiss.

Another stepping stone to fully have the vision he truly desires. Even if he has to spill blood in order to satisfy you. Afterall, what kind of money would it be if it wasn't built upon blood and tears?

He wouldn't be hesitant in ending the life of someone if it meant to keep her to himself, like that fatui agent guarding her door for interacting with her. A lowly agent and you, having an affair? Perish the thought! Normally, he wouldn't resort to dirtying his hands but there's a first time for everything. Similarly to how he'll take your firsts.

Assured himself that this is what you had in mind… The reason why you didn't show yourself to him, why you appeared in everyone else's. So he can have you all to himself.

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From then on, you're accompanying him nearly everywhere. To the masses, they'll never see the beautiful face that hides behind the silk woven veil. Only he, the one and only loyal follower of yours, has the privilege to do so.

When alone, Pantalone is very hands-y. He'll sing praises to Celestia above of how a wonderful, kind and hardworking pearl you are. Visually drunk from kissing you all over on his lap, like a little puppy he had gotten as a birthday gift.

One day, he slipped up. And he indulged a little bit too much than normal. Like usual, it all started with him pulling you to his lap.

"Mine.. mine… mine.." He uttered a mantra to himself, as he attacked her neck with kisses down to her collarbone.

"Ah… ! P-pantalone!" Ruby colored lipstick smeared on his lips as he hungrily kissed her, worshipping her as she's meant to be. Pulling away, leaving you breathless. A string of spittle connects both of you, thinning out until it vanishes.

"Please… you're all I've got." You could feel his warm breath on your skin. "Let this follower take good care of you, my goddess." He mumbled, face on your hair savouring the moment.

The sweet scent of his cologne made you feel dizzy. "What..?" It feels so suffocating when he does this.

"My little jewel.. I love you. Don't leave me again… There's so much I have to repay you for!" Pantalone gave such a risqué smile, showing those pretty, hypnotic eyes behind his lashes. Finding it's so hard to deny him when he has done so much for you until now.

" Ah… " Squirming underneath him, back against the mahogany wood. Quills, documents, maps all disregarded to the side in one swipe of his arm.

"I want to be your everything just as you were to me, my pearl." He purred before capturing your lips with his, commencing another steamy make out.

True to his word. Your body is littered with love marks the next day, surrounded by frivolous wealth. Waking up to a fabulous exotic ring on your finger.

Do you remember the once humble, venerable and opulent temple? Now in ruin, a safe haven for thieves that stalk the night. Those peaceful days of watching over children turned to a hopeless man's toy for indulgence of your touch. He would always make sure you'll only know his touch, and yearn for it.

"Mm, looking at that gravid woman my goddess? Just say the word, and I'll provide it for you. Like I've always done."

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Enjoyed that one bubbles? I know, I did. Hope this satisfies you.

A/n: you guys have no idea how many times the story from my side has changed due to the blackout last night. First time being asked so I don't mind any criticism here, bubbles. Side note there's a blackout here and I've manage to post it in time 🥹

#pantalone x you #reader insert #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #pantalone x reader #yandere pantalone #ex-goddess! Reader

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mommyofkittens · 3 days

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A Court of Fallen Heroes: Chapter 10 - The Bloody Blade

" What do you know of the Deadly Nightshade? " Aoife's voice echoed in the basement room where most of the palace's laundry was washed.

It was a small chamber, barely big enough for the five of us who gathered to change in the smelly uniforms of the palace guards. They reeked of fermented sweat and rusted iron, and the metal cuffs pinched your skin as you pulled them on. Kallus had the idea, thinking it would be much better if we covered our own scent not only with what was left of my potion, but with the unwashed stench of fae men.

" What would a blonde like you want with the Nightshade? " Nimue cringed, her thick lashes framing her lilac pupils perfectly. " It's deadly. "

The witch stood with her back straight as if it was nailed into the wall. Her lilac and herbs perfume wafted through the room like an aphrodisiac, overpowering the other, more disgusting scents. I move a little closer to her, the nothing in my stomach ready to spill up my throat at any moment, and take a deep breath. Not only did these clothes stink, but they were sticky and stained with God knows what.

" Did you touch it? " I ask her worriedly, looking at her smooth palms. " I hope you didn't put your hands in your mouth afterwards. "

Niven raises her eyebrows and leans into a corner, her oversized black shirt half unbuttoned, straining to tie a cord around her waist. Kallus is silent, only poking his head out from behind the curtain we have improvised to change in as much privacy as possible. The man looks at her questioningly, as if guessing what she's thinking, but his mouth remains tight.

" I didn't touch it. I was just asking about it. " Her plucked eyebrows rose up to her unwrinkled forehead, scolding us. " I happen to have it in my garden, I want to know if I should use it in my tea or not. "

The young woman looked like a deity poured down from heaven in the light provided by a few bitter candles. Even tired from a full day's work of washing the stinking clothes of the castle's inhabitants, her hair, tucked under that ugly hat, looked just as shiny, her complexion just as clean, and her blue eyes darkened by a few shades.

" We're breaking into a prison and you want to ask about tea? " Niven's smile spreads across her sweaty face. " Are you nervous? "

Aoife is silent for a while, looking at me, threatening me not to open my mouth, not to explain more than necessary. There was a glimmer of hope in her sky-blue eyes, a glimmer that I didn't want anyone to extinguish. I suspected that the maid who had witnessed the humiliation during dinner had already informed the blonde that Draegan had asked her back to his bed, but I didn't know that she knew I had been there and that I was technically supposed to take her place tomorrow night. The real problem was that she had no way of stopping him other than letting him fall asleep and sneaking out of the room untouched. I didn't even know what I was going to do tomorrow night, the thought left me completely cold and empty. I hoped he would see my naked body and squirm and then let me go. But Aoife might have a much better idea, one that we could both do in secret.

That pain in my chest comes back, as if my heart is detached from the surrounding organs and falls into an endless void. Both men looked at me tonight like a zoo animal: one with a pair of eyes that had killed me so many times, and one with a hope that brought me back. Eris had sacrificed another human for me. I had sacrificed someone else for my own goals, which I put above all else. That's not what I was supposed to do here, I wasn't supposed to kill them, I was supposed to save them. And yet the first innocent life had just been lost because of me.

" I'm stressed when we have to steal from the most dangerous, unpredictable, mad-man in the continent, yes. " Aoife puts her hands on her hips, perfectly hiding the fear she knows she wears on her body like a coat.

" Atropa Belladonna is deadly, in the right dose. " I explain, pulling those huge, man-made pants up my thighs. " If you use too little, it can cause paralysis, pain, vomiting, muscle cramps, all sorts of horrible symptoms. "

Nimue throws her fierce eyes at me and crosses her hands on her chest. " You finally made your homework? Is it from those books you've been stealing from me? "

" I borrowed them and yes, I learned from them. A lot actually. "

The witch's smile spreads like a serpentine river across her thin, almost proud face. " I knew you were a good thief. But I wonder how you got that map. I wonder what you paid. "

Even though we had become close in a very strange way, there was this... awkwards connection between us, laced with bitterness, a hint of animosity and trust. Nimue still looked at me like I was about to grow a second head. But the good things had come after she'd saved us from Thaibar that day, when all the guards were looking for Aoife. I still wished I knew the limits of her powers, what kind of witch she was, if there was such a thing, what she could do, and if I could learn more from her than just potions and rituals, if I could steal some raw magic.

Niven glares at me, holding the huge helmet under her arm, then drops her head. She knew about Eris, about him catching me with the map in Draegan's bedroom, and she also knew that I'd met him to take it back. She also knew what he'd asked for in return, and she knew that I approved. But I gained so much more: crucial information. Eris had told me that the prison still wasn't on very good terms with Draegan, and that they didn't approve of his leadership over the kingdom, which is why it would have been easy to get in, based on the fact that they wanted to get rid of certain prisoners he had also sent there. In addition, Eris had secretly stamped the letter Kallus was holding, requesting the release of a prisoner for a short period of time.

Little did he know that the ultimate price was a woman's life. Outrageous or not, part of me was glad that someone had gone to such lengths to keep me out of Draegan's fingers. The other part felt a dark cloud over her head, like an impending curse about to break in her temples: she would pay for the death of an innocent life. I would have gladly paid anything if I knew it would have saved me a quarter of this suffocating feeling.

I don't know what I was dreaming about, I don't even know why I had such high expectations. Whenever I read romance novels and the protagonist mentioned that she was breathless when she saw him, I preferred to roll my eyes and say that she was easily impressed. I had a bad habit of thinking that I would be harder to surprise, that I wouldn't be so easily struck by the beauty of anyone, male or female. All my life I have been firmly convinced that there is no such thing as a perfect human being, that this concept is really in the eye of the beholder, the one who describes or paints a muse who for him or her represents the sum total of subjectively excellent qualities.

That's what I like to think about all these characters I read about in fantasy books. From the first day I started working at the palace, I had noticed how flawless these supernatural creatures could look: fine complexions, shining like porcelain, pointed ears, silky, shiny hair, dazzling eyes, full or thin lips, tall, athletic, well-shaped bodies, with roundness where it belonged and an appropriate amount of muscles, with a slightly icy aura about them, as if they refrained from blinding us with their natural light.

I got used to all that. Then came Eris Vanserra. Nothing but cool and cheeky flirtation, wide grin, fiery brown eyes full of promises, high cheekbones with thin, tight lips, slim waist with just the right amount of muscle in the places that mattered. He smelled of nutmeg and the fires we made in the forest of Thaibar, and he dressed exactly as an heir to the throne should. He was unexpected in every way. The misunderstood anti-hero turned pale when he returned the map to me and I told him I trusted him enough to explain why I needed the map. I don't know if it was the fact that I had the courage to put my trust in his hands that shocked him the most, or if it was my idea to break into Hybern's prison to free one of its most dangerous prisoners. But I could feel his temper change, as if for the first time someone had placed their life in his hands and he was afraid not to break it.

Well, I was impressed with Eris and what he did to protect me as best he could. But the winged one had me head over heels after I saw him once. And my infatuation cooled as quickly as it came.

If I had butterflies in my stomach seeing Eris so close, Azriel made me hold my breath. No, literally lose it. And with my breath I lost my logic, my train of thought, forgot where I was and what I was doing, what I was saying. I felt no dopamine coursing through my bloodstream, just a tremendous desire to impress. A blanket of silence had settled around me at that moment, my ears were completely sunk in and all my attention was focused on him, my body was painfully numb and any emotion had been silenced. It was as if I was in that oasis I had fallen into for the second time a month ago, completely calm and at peace. Yet I had been as dumb as a virgin in front of the most beautiful man I had seen in two worlds. He spoke to me, but I ignored him. I didn't have a good enough sentence to say to him. I could have given him a sign, pulled him aside, asked him to help me.

I couldn't even look him in the eye. And I didn't want to. They melted and froze me in the few seconds I allowed myself that luxury.

He was so tall and imposing, so grandly contoured, painstakingly carved as if by two right, expert hands, merciless to those who might see him and be blinded by his beauty. He had a strong chin and a sharp jaw, lips full enough to be kissed if the opportunity arose, with a Cupid's bow cut roughly to perfection. All framed by wide, slightly arched eyebrows and thick, glossy black hair that grew slightly over the ears and high forehead. The piece de resistance were undoubtedly the eyes: hard, enigmatic, surprisingly gentle, yet agile and unforgiving, quick to take in every detail, like whiskey through a glass in a smoldering fire, like amber unraveling in the sun's rays.

Not to mention that I shuddered at the sight of his famous shadows. They weren't just shadows, they were more than that. They were like slippery tongues of darkness, rising and dissipating like smoke, concentrated at a particular point on his intensely forged body, playful and subtle, the more you looked at them, the more you realized that they were living elements, with a consciousness of their own, capable of inflicting wounds like any sharp knife. I could feel them studying me closely, as if they wanted to take a close look inside my mind. They sniffed at me like guard dogs, eager to protect their master from any threat. Fear gripped me as I noticed them moving around my waist, where I held the dagger I had stolen in my dream. Fortunately, I retreated in time, or I fear they would have shreded my clothes there to see what I was hiding and how deadly it was.

I had decided by then, however, that I would not be approaching Azriel anytime soon. I didn't have the courage, not after seeing his monstrous wings rise like mountains from his back: black and violently muscled, with scars and bony fangs piercing painfully through the shiny wing membrane.

I don't know what I expected from him. The same protection Eris had offered me so quickly and without question? More attention? If I was the main character in this story and had to help this world, that didn't mean I was a beauty, that such an imposing man with so many other options would notice me. I sighed inwardly as I realized how ridiculous I was, trapped in my own fantasy with him. But I already knew he was taken. I knew his heart belonged to someone else, and there was no way I could compete with a beauty like Elain, even though I hadn't seen her yet and didn't know if I ever would. So, with an empty heart, I put aside whatever love subplot might have happened during my journey here and moved on.

Then, during dinner, when he looked at me so disappointed, so silent and angry, like a father who disagrees with his daughter's actions, I felt like the sky was cracking in my head. It was as if he was expecting me, a mere servant to do something, to save them. Did he realize that I didn't belong in this place?

I had still hoped that he would somehow save the day, as he had at the meeting of the High Lords, when he defended Feyre, or when he freed Elain, or when he saved Gwyn from Sangravah. I had waited for him to intervene when Draegan slapped the first handmaiden, when he invited the second into his bed, when he kissed me disgustingly, or when he killed the fourth. But none of that happened, and I returned his gaze just as sourly, allowing myself to watch him as disappointedly as he had studied me for minutes.

" Nimue, it doesn't make any changes to the plan if we know how Cyan got the map. " Kallus talks slowly, pulling me violently from the thoughts that had gripped me like ivy. " We should go over the details again if we want everything to work. "

" I have another, I'd say good question, if Kallus allows me to make assumptions: how much can we trust the information that you heard from Eris Vanserra? " Nimue helps me strap something to my arms, the same suspicion lacing her words. " They say their lineage is descended from foxes. How much can you trust a fox? "

" It's all the information we have in a time that's running out too fast. My father has heard the gossip from the continent: that Cyan's landing has brought anomalies to the surface that others consider the end of the world. " Niven mumbles worriedly, tucking her map into her armor. " Many say the Devourer rebels in his tomb between worlds, others that a Dark King stirs the forests and lakes between the continents. "

" It means they felt it too. " Aoife whispers, staring into the flame.

" The Night Court also sent his Spymaster here. " Nimue spoke again, considering me. " It means they might suspect something is wrong too. "

" The Shadowsinger is the one we should fear, not Vanserra. " Kallus concluded, not taking his eyes off Nimue. " He hears and feels things no one else can, he might have sensed the change in the atmosphere and it took some time to find the place the energetic charge came from. It won't take him long to find us, to find you, Cyan. "

" The one from the other world surely knows your fate. " Nimue concluded, clenching her fists. " Amren. "

Amren, of course, how could I forget her. She had been... something, something very powerful before she died and was brought to life in the books. An angel, most readers in the other world suspected. She should have been the first to figure out what was going on and how to find me. That's exactly why I shouldn't have been afraid of them, especially if they were trying to find me, maybe they wanted to help me.

" We must find this woman and save her. If there's anything left to save. " Kallus rubs his overgrown beard and looks sternly at Nimue, a whole conversation unfolding between them. "I looked some more and managed to find her name: Malou - the Bloody Blade. "

" That Bloody Blade? " Nimue asks sternly and it's the first time I see her shocked by something.

We all look at each other, dazed, as if a ghost had suddenly came among us, as cold as a raging winter, entering our bones. The candlelight dances and I can feel the strands of hair that washed over my face dancing in front of my eyes. I stare at the door, expecting some huge creature to enter and crush us all. For minutes we are silent, aware of each other's presence, but no one steps through the door.

" The temperature has dropped, do you feel it? " Niven asks, pulling the sweaty armor closer.

" There's a spirit with us. " Nimue concludes, closing her eyes and extending her palms. " It's harmless, but she wants to listen. "

" Who is it? " Aoife asks, drawing a piece of cloth over her shoulders.

" The last true, living Valkyrie is with us. " Kallus sighs, happiness filling his features.

" Is she the one we're going after? " I ask, overcome with adrenaline and excitement. " Why is she a spirit? "

I feel her surrounding me, like a curtain fluttering in the wind, almost suffocating me. I feel her unpleasant eyes on the back of my neck, sniffing me. I feel compelled to stand as straight as a tree..

" One of their most important powers was their ability to cultivate different elements around them to improve their own strength. It's called Cultivation, it's a sub-power of Thriving, something only an extinct cult could do. It gives the wielder enough power to astral project. The Valkyries and the Eyes of the Mother were closely related, being the protectors of the Mother herself. But a group of beings brought their downfall far too many years ago. " Nimue explained as she looked around, as if she could see the silhouette of the one walking freely among us.

" If she is Malou and still has this ability, it means -" Kallus was interrupted by Nimue, who smiled triumphantly.

" That she's still in contact with one of the Eyes. It means one more is alive and waiting. "

" Do we have to find her too? " I ask enthusiastically.

" Only Malou can lead you to the last of the Eyes. They share a bond that allows them to use their co-dependent magic. " Nimue explains, equally excited as she looks at all of us. " That's how she survived all these centuries... It's wonderful... You were right Kallus, there is hope for us. "

" After everything is over, we'll celebrate. " Kallus allowed himself to chuckle softly in that darkness, and with that, I allowed myself to feel joy as well.

We can do it. We can get out alive.

With that hope still imprinted in all five of us, we quickly recapped the plan we were supposed to follow. Aoife had been another important part of it, bringing us another item we couldn't have gotten into the prison without: the key. It was a single one, made of a hard, black material that would open all the cells. There were several sections in the prison, categorized according to the danger level of the creatures imprisoned there. So all the wardens had one. The problem was that we didn't know exactly at which level we could find Malou.

Kallus suspected that she was in section 'S', the highest level of security, where the walls were carved with runes on the inside, preventing any magic, designed to weaken the inmate himself. They fed off their life force, their energy, their powers, so they were always on and they never failed. That's why we had Nimue, who had been working for days on a symbol and the ink we needed to use. It was a diamond with elongated corners cut by a straight line in the middle. I'd seen it before in the other world, used by self-entitled witches on the internet. I'd used it myself, but it never worked.

Kallus was to provide transportation from the prison to the palace and then to the farm. Then, right after all that, we were to run away with Aoife's uncle. That evening. Malou was supposed to be one of the most important prisoners Hybern had kept forgotten in a dungeon for so long, and her absence the next day would set off a lot of alarm bells.

" May we not shrink from our purpose. " Kallus whispered, looking at Niven with his sad, green eyes, now shining like emeralds in the candlelight.

" May we not falter under darkness's terror. " Niven goes on, grave as a tombstone, looking at her father as seriously as if she felt this was the last road.

" May we finally rest when we are claimed. " Nimue seemed to end, placing the palm of her long-nailed hand over her heart in a final prayer to anyone who would listen.

Aoife lowered her head, respecting the silence and the prayer they had said for all of us. There's no stopping us now as we sneak out the door, finally ready to finish what we started a month ago.

After everyone has left the laundry room, I stop Aoife with a hand on her shoulder. " Brew this tea tonight and put a cup in his wine. It should kill a man in less than ten minutes. I don't know what effect Nightshade has on faes, so you might want to add another cup just to be sure. And whatever happens tonight, don't let him touch you or the other girl. " I whisper and hand Aoife the most precious thing I had with me, the black leather sheathed dagger I had stolen in my dream.

" How do you know I have it on me? " Aoife looks at me puzzled and taps her apron pocket.

" No offense, but you smell like dead rats and you have pink stains on your shirt. Nimue know you have it, too. So don't falter tonight. " I place my hand on her cheek, encouraging her, and walk away.

As if she didn't know us, Nimue quickly sneaks back to her hiding place on the ground floor of the palace, where the doctor's office is. Her purple velvet gown covers her hips, swaing them as elegantly as a proud cat. Kallus and Niven retrieved their swords and set off in that robotic way we saw the guards walk.

A sudden pull binds my legs and stops me in my tracks. For a few seconds I am unbalanced, pulled down by the weight of the armor. Tingles spread across my shoulders, as if thousands of butterflies had flapped their fine wings against my cold skin, and suddenly I realize why.

" I've seen you before. " A deep, deadly voice speaks a few steps behind me.

I turn a fraction of an inch and see him again, the same man of my dreams, the same man I had lusted after not only in the other world, but here too. He grabbed Nimue harshly by the arm and demanded answers. Azriel was a few heads taller than the brunette, broader in the shoulders, and this time he was clean, his Illyrian skins now washed. He felt me watching him like a hungry animal and turned his head to me far too slowly, defiantly. Azriel had something murderous written all over his face, and he focused all his attention on me.

" In your dreams, maybe. " Nimue answers proudly, unnafected by the Spymaster.

My legs are racing, and with them my heart, as if they were competing to see who could go the furthest. All this infatuation mixed with disappointment and hatred and anger, and even though I knew that I shouldn't blame him for the girl who lost her life, but myself, my expectations demanded more and more from someone I didn't know at all. Azriel had his reasons for being here, and the way he was looking at me right now, I had a feeling it wouldn't be long before he realized who I was.

Once we reach the stables, Kallus uncovers the imperial carriage the guards used to transport the prisoners. " I have been looking for one of these all day. Get in, I'll talk if anyone asks too many questions."

Outside it was raining heavily, loudly and violently, like a bad omen, and suddenly I felt the need to be held, to be protected and to hide.

" Wait! " I shout, stopping them before they get into the pitch-black carriage. The two horses whine and kick their hooves, but I don't hesitate as I throw myself into their arms like it was the last time. " No matter what happens tonight, I have the utmost respect for your family, Kallus, you have helped me more than others have in a lifetime, and I will forever cherish what you gave me: another chance. "

" Don't say goodbye. " Niven whispers and I can feel those tears straining her soft voice. " This is not a goodbye, Cyan. We'll make it. "

" I know. But I feel like I never had a chance to thank you and tell you that you have a place in my heart forever. " The hole in my stomach grows bigger and I regret that I can't say 'I love you' to these people, but I hope they read between my words.

" I love you like my own child and I would do anything for you, Cyan. We'll make it through the night. " Kallus says in a final tone, sucking back his own tears. " Now hurry before someone sees some guards bonding in the barn. "

As Niven and I go to close the door, someone calls after us. " Chief Carambian, head of palace security. Identify yourself and your purpose in taking a royal carriage. "

Kallus presents a paper, torn and signed, then speaks in a deep, dark voice I have never heard before. " The king requests that a prisoner be brought to the palace. Tonight. "

Through the open window of the carriage, I watch the other man carefully read the letter and then approve it. " You have clear path. "

We stop stalling and set off at a fast pace. The horses gallop furiously through the backyard, stopping only for a few seconds, while Kallus is forced to show the false letter to the guards at the gates. The prison is a few miles away, in the opposite direction from Thaibar, hidden in the woods. At this late hour, only the lanterns attached to the cart illuminated the beaten path. The trees seemed taller and more menacing than those in the forest near Thaibar. Many of them had no leaves at all, just twisted trunks, as if they were in pain and had no one to comfort them. Outside it was still pouring heavily, soaking the path and making it slippery as Kallus turned. It smelled of wet leaves, cold and muddy, and the silence was so ingrained among the long branches that we were the only ones to break the seemingly sacred silence.

We had that hope that we would make it tonight, that the first step of our plan would happen without anyone getting in our way. Even though my breath came in short and quick, like an asthma attack, even though the feeling of impending doom seemed to creep over my skin, the adrenaline I felt was more alive than anything else, burning my body from the inside out. I don't know how Kallus was able to stay out in the pouring rain, but he assured us that it was better for him to drive alone; too many people would have drawn attention to us.

Sleep soothed my eyes, but I couldn't close them, I was too full of conflicting feelings. I don't even know what time it was, one, two in the morning? By now Aoife must have been in the imperial bedroom, pouring poison into glasses. The thought provokes a physical reaction of nausea in me, so I glance at Niven out of the corner of my eye to reassure myself. She's asleep, head down on the opposite couch, mouth open. She slept the entire twenty minutes we'd made it from the palace to the middle of this wilderness.

There is a knocking on the metal roof of the carriage and Kallus calls from outside: " It's time, girls. "

" Wake up, Nivy, we're here. " I shake Niven gently, pulling her hair away from her face and helping her out of her dream's grip.

" I'm up. I'm up. " She mumbles, wiping the saliva from the corners of her mouth and pulling her hood over her head. " How long have I been out? "

" Barely twenty minutes. " I answer as I open the door and jump onto the earth. A wet sound comes from the impact and I dive a little into the mud.

" Here, take the declaration and Nimue's ink. You remember the sigil, right? " Kallus jumps out of the driver's seat as well, pulling all the tools out of his pockets, then continues when I nod. " Whatever you do, whatever they ask you, just say that Draegan sent you and that if they have anything to say about it, to come to the castle for answers. Malou might be in the last cells, just ask them to show you the Valkyrie. I'll wait for you in the carriage and keep an eye out. You have to understand that if you reach the basement level and something bad happens, you'll most likely be trapped down there. Move quickly and stay alive. Let's hope our Valkyrie is holding strong. "

We both nodded, then poured what was left of my potion down our throats, then added a second one that Nimue had made to glamorize us. We needed to sound and look like men, not two twenty-year-old girls, so Nimue had prepared two extra bottles. I don't know how long her magic lasted, but I guessed no more than an hour or two, so we had to move very quickly.

As far as I knew, there were two parts to the prison, the above-ground part, where the humans or not-so-dangerous prisoners were kept, and the underground part, where all the creatures and nightmares we were supposed to run away from were trapped.

" May we not falter... " Niven whispers as we step out, away from the cover provided by the trees, and thousands of crossbows are aimed at our heads from the outer wall of the prison.

" Amen!... " I mutter, already frightened.

We advanced robotically, with the spears we had obtained from the palace in full view and with our backs straight. There was no turning back. The rain pelted down hard and furiously, seeping through the seams of our armor and soaking into the sweaters we had put on underneath to make us look more massive. Huge drops of water made a disconcerting sound as they made contact with the obsidian on our shoulder blades and helmet crest. The boots, five sizes too big, were playing havoc with my legs and the soles of my feet were already getting wet from the puddle that was forming beneath us by the second. Niven was no better, only a head taller than me, but much, much skinnier. She'd needed two pairs of pants and two blouses to fill the armor to the brim.

" Legitimize yourself! " A voice shouts out of nowhere as we reach the huge gate. On the outside, it is lit only by two massive torches, which illuminate the rusty and bleeding spears coming out of the gate.

I could feel the magic sweeping over me, from my ankles to the top of my head, raising my temperature and sharpening my vision. I felt more massive, as if I had grown a few inches taller, but also heavier, as if I had gained weight. I could feel my jaw tingling under the balaclava, and was surprised to find that I had grown a beard, and my ears were painfully pricked by the roundness of my helmet. We had already transformed.

" General Charon. " I scream as loud as I can, feeling the witch's brew constrict my lungs.

" Chief of the palace servants, General Carambian. " Niven shouted back, raising her head to be heard.

A few horrible seconds of waiting pass, then a deafening screech almost makes me duck. The gate opens painfully, creaking on all sides and dragging heavily on the ground. Five fae await us at the entrance, shining swords, seemingly freshly sharpened, lying murderously on their arms, torches in their hands.

The man who looked at us questioningly could not have been more than thirty years old, though he was a fae, which could mean he was easily five hundred years old. He was bald, his pointed ears protruding past the edge of his occipital bone, and his eyes were small and wrinkled, set in the center of his hateful face. He didn't smile, but his lips were thin and parted in a harsh, implacable line.

He walks toward us, with his torch blowing in the wind and shows his sharp fangs. " It is past midnight, Lord Charon, what does His Highness desire at this obscene hour? "

" We are not to judge King Draegan's orders or desires, so read for yourself. " I reply with how much coldness I am capable of, considering my underwear is shaking on me, and hand him the same sheet that Kallus had shown the stableman.

" You wish to escort an ' S ' classed creature to the palace?! " His voice sounded hoarse, as if he had eaten forks and knives all his life, and his throat was not in the best shape. " I have to refuse. I can't let such fae out. It's dangerous. "

" Sire. " Someone speaks behind him, and the man turns his head to the side. " Sir Lisko, if the Master wishes, we must obey. "

" The prison still does not answer to its own self-appointed leadership. " Sir Lisko spits, obviously irritated, then stares at us for a second in silence. " Why would he want such creature free inside the palace. "

" The creature must be bound and gagged. " Niven's words come out with a raspy, purely masculine timbre, and I smile under my mask, begging to get inside faster and get it over with. " King Draegan wants a spectacle for a guest - The Autumn Court's Heir and The Night Court's Emissary. "

" You see, sire, he already has connections across the continent. He'll free us soon. " The same voice speaks, changing Lisko's mind.

" Fine. You have one hour to take whatever you need. " He turns and gestures for us to follow.

We obey without comment and the joy begins to grow in me. I hope that luck will be with us all the way.

First, we crossed the small courtyard, where it seemed that the prisoners were allowed to go outside from time to time, judging by the number of tables and chairs arranged one on top of the other, balls and obstacle courses, probably made for training. Lisko, as the other man called him, lifts the latch on the huge, tree-covered building and invites us in. We enter the above-ground prison without much fuss, only to be bombarded with moans and groans.

Darkness reigned over the smelly, cold cells, and for a second I wondered if anyone was alive in those cages. Not even the moon shone through the holes in the prison stone. At this late hour, everyone was probably fast asleep. Only the few candles in the walls lit the way for the guards. Niven looks around too, and I can feel the tension in her muscles and her disgust. There was an overpowering smell of closed air and unwashed bodies, feces and rotten food. All I could see were limbs: crippled hands half covered with blankets eaten away by rats, legs with gangrene that looked like they had been eaten by bugs. I almost vomited when I saw a man relieving himself between the sheets that should have been his bed. Someone screams above us, and I jump, stifling a scream of my own.

Was it a prison or a sanatorium?

" Don't be so scared, Charon. They're as good as dead and doped up. " Lisko says proudly as he grabs a set of keys from nearby and unlocks some doors.

" What did they do? " Niven can't help but ask as she watches a woman write in stone with her fingernails melted and bloodshot.

" You may think we put all people in jail, but there are real criminals here. " He answers, then we stop in front of a cell where a man is fast asleep with his back to us. " He killed his entire family in a manic episode, then he ate them one by one. " We walk a few steps and stop in front of another cell where a child was lying in rags. " Don't be fooled. He raped his aunt and hung her in the attic, then stole her money and lost it gambling. He paid whores to please him, then cut out their tongues when he wasn't satisfied. He's barely fifteen. "

The boy's sardonic grin is all the confirmation I need as he bares his razor-sharp teeth like a hungry shark.

" So you don't have innocent humans here. " I ask as I watch another man satisfy his needs under the covers.

Lisko's wrinkled face turns toward us, cold and emotionless. He opens an obsidian door that leads to a staircase.

"I'd say it's too late to seek your penance, General Charon. Freeing one prisoner doesn't make up for all the innocent lives you've taken. " He doesn't wait for me to answer, so he rolls his eyes and speaks again. " If you want to expand the cells under the palace, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the prison is full. I thought you'd put all the people you torture in there. "

I try not to be too impressed by the way Sir Lisko, the last fae I would have expected, spoke with such disgust of the things Draegan and Charon had done to the humans. As if he really cared about the innocent lives lost within the palace walls. I look at his disheveled hands and my eyes widen when I notice the gold band that marks him as married. Could his wife be human?

" We do. " Niven agrees for me and steps in front of me. " We need to find the Valkyrie. "

"I don't know if she's still alive in this pit. You'll find her remains in the last cell on the left. Just stay in the main hall and you will be fine. I don't get paid enough to go into that hole with you at night. If you have what you need, I'll be waiting upstairs. " Lisko announces, and before he closes the door, he tells us one more thing. " Don't listen to the voices. "

When the door behind us was unlocked, the silence washed over us, broken only by our intertwined breaths. It was hard to carry armor that weighed half as much as you, so I was out of breath every few steps. I picked up a torch leaning against the stone wall and stared tensely at Niven. Her helmet was turned toward me, as if she, too, was watching me in confusion.

" We'll manage. " I speak and the echo answers me with the same words.

We make our way down the spiral staircase, descending for minutes as if driving into the center of the earth, and at the bottom we would find the lava boiling. Occasionally we'd come to a window that once let in fresh air, but was now covered over. I looked down, careful not to slip on the broken steps that were missing large chunks of material. Not even the spiders lived here.

Niven stops abruptly, both palms pressed against the narrow walls of the stairs for balance. " Did you hear that? "

A shiver ran down my spine and I suddenly became much more alert. This was everything I didn't want to hear while I was buried in a grave. I frown from behind my metal helmet and sharpen my ears. Too bad the potion didn't give me their fine hearing as well, just the sharp look, maybe I'd hear the thing Niven was talking about. My heart raced, pounding so hard that I could see my chest heaving under those powerful beats.

" I don't hear anything. I'm only really cold. " I say as we walk down a few more steps, then she stops again.

" Strange, I'm really, really hot. But I hear them talking. "

" Don't listen to them, Nivy, you heard the guy. "

When we finally step onto level ground, the fog engulfs my ankles, and with it, panic settles in my chest, sinking its insatiable claws into my heart. Pitch black. A deep blackness, as if I could cut it with a knife, surrounds us and with it the smell of decay. I refrain from any sarcastic comment and just clench my jaw, trying to find the courage to continue. I swallow dryly and raise the torch even higher, trying to shed as much light as possible into the wide corridor. I would never have dared to venture into an underground graveyard alone, filled with creatures that had magical powers and probably loved the taste of human flesh. I probably reeked of fear, a smell I'd always heard creatures of the dark loved, as if it were an aphrodisiac for their nostrils. I look back and am relieved to see the stone wall, it meant we could start somewhere, that this was the main corridor Lisko had told us about and we didn't have to wander lost through this cursed place.

" Do you still hear them? " I ask skeptically with a sigh as we walk down the muffled corridor.

The cells were hidden in the darkness, and I didn't dare bring the fire near them, not wanting to disturb whatever was in that darkness. It was enough that I felt thousands of pairs of eyes in the back of my head, watching me far too closely for my own liking. I was sure that, unlike the inhabitants upstairs, those down here were not sleeping, but hunting at these hours. I stayed as close to Niven as I could, the same distance from the cells, to reduce the chance of being grabbed by one of the tentacles. Sometimes I even felt ghostly touches on my back and forearms and forced myself not to look back. I had heard that it is not good to look back when someone is calling you, whistling at you, or when you feel unseen touches, so I preferred to stick to my earthly teachin

" Yes, they want you to set them free. They promise to obey. We both know they won't. " Niven encourages me not to listen to them either..

" What if they're innocent? "

" I don't trust anything that thrives in the darkness. "

When we finally reached the end of the haunted corridor, it took me a few seconds to work up the courage to put my flame in front of the cell. I knew the underground prison wasn't empty, not by a long shot, even if I didn't hear any voices. Niven probably heard them because she was one of Mother's benefactors.

" Maybe is on another hallway. " Nivy whispered manfully from behind me, turning her head. " But there's no light anywhere, we could easily get lost in this labyrinth. "

" It can't be. " I say, waving the torch back and forth as desperation begins to overtake me. " She can't be dead! She's here, she's close, my intuition never lies to me. "

But as I searched for the uninhabited piece of land, staring in shock at the perfectly made bed and the unused dresser, hope seemed to leave me as quickly as it had come. I could feel it inside, the certainty that I would find it here, still alive, that reality seemed to be playing tricks on me.

" You finally came after me, mighty Benefactor? " Someone is talking, and for a second I think the fire is casting shadows on the walls as I see a pile of clothes jerking around, trying to turn around. " I died long ago. Buried in my own grief. "

" Are you?... " I ask in a whisper, as if I could wake the dead. " You were the one listening, back in the palace? "

Niven comes closer, mouth agape in shock and hope and triumph, and before I can stop her, she lunges for the iron bars, clenching them into tight fists.

" Malou? Yes, but I'm not a Valkyrie anymore. " An endless sadness poured from her timbre, which seemed so, so old. " I could never be one again, after what I've done... You seemed quite thrilled to come and die here for my sake. "

We had come this far and planned how to get in and how to get out, and we were so blinded by the idea that the woman might be dead that we hadn't thought about how to convince her to come with us. I wasn't being absurd, I had considered her mental situation, but I hadn't prepared any emotional speech about life and death, I had relied on her desire to be free again. But what if she didn't want to be free? I knew from my experience with my father that a conversation with a traumatized person is a constant back and forth, and that it is very difficult to reason with them.

" Please, I need your help. We need your help. " I manage to speak slowly, as if the woman was deaf. " Something bad is happening outside, and we need you by our side. "

The woman laughs, jerky, hoarse, then coughs as if her lungs are filled with pus. In this cold place, I wouldn't be surprised if the creatures ended up with bronchopneumonia from these precarious conditions. I wasn't even sure if they were being fed or even offered a glass of water.

" Oh I know. I've heard about you're coming - Ves-per-tus. " She takes a long pause, then continues. " I used to guard and train women like this. Tragic miracles... The world may need you, but it does not need me. The world has been nothing but cruel to me and my sisters. So why should I make another sacrifice for something that erased me? "

" The world has changed, some parts have been rebuilt by people with hope. Kind people. They fight for the minorities, they try to help, they try to dispel the darkness. " I try to convince her, not knowing if what I said was the truth or a lie, but thinking of Prythian, I knew some of my words were sincere. " You've been locked up for too long and the world has moved on, but you don't need to be caged just because you're afraid of the outside. You deserve freedom. "

She fully turns and for the thousandth time tonight I allow myself to be surprised. An old, chocolate, wrinkled face looked back at me as if I had insulted or slapped her. I could see how her white hair framed her bony face, how it accentuated her glassy eye, crisscrossed by a deep, still reddish scar. Her cheeks and chin were adorned with tribal tattoos, now faded to gray marks. The real, healthy one, however, betrayed so many emotions in the blackness as deep as the one in prison: grief, regret, and such low self-esteem. Her lips were still round, fleshy, and well-defined, but they had become discolored with age.

" The prison is sucking the life out of you. " Niven explains, still gripping the bars. " You are not alone. You are a legend, Malou. My family and I have waited centuries for this glimmer of hope, please don't say no. "

" I do not need the mercy of the Benefactors. You have chosen to wait and be crushed by the ever-growing forces of darkness. You never fight, governed by that pathetic law of not harming anything that moves. We lost the battle once because of you. I let myself be captured. I don't deserve freedom. I deserve to rot in this cell. " Malou spits angrily and approaches us. " Now get the fuck away from me. Every glimmer or nice word you tell me will make me vomit in my mouth. "

Niven squirmed, apparently shaken by the old woman's words, but I didn't have time to ponder all that had been so casually thrown in her face.

" Malou, I know you may feel hopeless and alone and tired, but you are a warrior at heart. I was alone too, I was dead inside too, but there's a way home for all of us, even for you. You have to fight again. We have to fight again. Don't let your potential be lost in Hybern's hands. "

" My home is lost. I don't want to be a blade again. No one came to help us when we needed help. I lost the most important battle - the war. "

" No, it's not. You can find it again. Home is not a place, you can find it in someone else's heart. And I know for sure that you still have a piece of what you call home that is lost somewhere in this world. Fight by my side, let's rebuild what was lost. I beg you, I will give you all that you need, all that you desire. But I need you, the Mother needs you, everyone needs you. You may not feel like a Valkyrie, but you're a strong woman. You have the power to begin again. I'll be beside you in this war. "

She puffs, then a wry smile spreads across her dry lips. " It's easy to throw words, child. Wars are not won by a handful of trained warriors. War means blood, colossal losses, dying loved ones, strategic battles, and sacrifice. Are you ready to make that sacrifice when the time comes? If you had to kill ten people to save one important man who has all the advantages over the enemy, would you do it? When you find out what I've done, what I've had to give up, you won't need me anymore. And more than that, you're just a human now. You're still not a Vesper. You don't have anything I want or need. "

" That's why I need you. You can teach me everything you know. "

" No. " Malou almost screamed, snarling at me with her sharp teeth. " It takes years, years! Even more, to train one fucking soldier. But a living Vesper? That takes centuries. All the arts you must master to fight the darkness are no child's play. You won't be able to save anything. We will die under your clumsiness. "

" You have to give me a chance. " I say, her words tearing the hope out of me piece by piece, slowly killing me. " Don't die without putting up a fight. Don't give up. Stop running from the past, stop hiding in the darkness, you are a creature of light, a symbol. You have a chance to right your wrongs, don't kick it away! I'll go out there and do my best, even if I die. But I'd like to have at least one small chance of winning. "

Malou looked at me with her healthy eyes and frowned so hard that the wrinkled skin between her eyebrows formed a deep crease. Obviously I've pushed all her buttons, because I see something change in her hard look. The 'no' becomes a 'maybe if...' inside her and I feel her change as she stands on her two feet and stares limply at us and back at the greasy cell. I feel the frustration seeping out of me, my patience wearing thin.

" The Mother calls your name into battle and you refuse? Your comrade, your Carranam is still alive, still suffering, Gods knows where, waiting for you, and you choose to be nothing but trash to Hybern. Their punching bag. You are no longer a Valkyrie, indeed. "

" Nivy... Don't say that. " I place a hand on her shoulder, trying to stifle any harsh words, but she shakes away from my touch.

" Don't stop her, she's right. " The old woman stands on her emaciated feet, dressed in a long robe, sweeping the stone floor. A new light appeared in her eyes, as if the thought of her Carranam had restored this last hope. " If you become a Vespertus, if you manage to survive the literal heartbreak, I would want one thing, but you must do it with your hands. No one else. If I protect you with whatever power I have and train you in the old ways, you owe me one thing. "

" Whatever you need. " I promise, feeling in my gut that I was making a colossal mistake.

" My word is law, and so shall yours be. When the time comes, at the very end, my life will perish under your sword. You will sacrifice me so that I may finally be with my sisters. "

" What? " I look at her in shock, overcome with horror. " Why would I kill you? "

" Because she can't kill herself. " Niven concludes nervously. " The Mother would never allow such a sacrifice. It's an insult to her for you to take your own life. So if her work on the material world is not done, the Mother will not call her to the skies. The only creature that can end their misery is the Mother herself, or... "

" The Mother's own daughter, blood from her blood. " Malou smiles, satisfied, knowing she had us trapped, we couldn't refuse when her agreement to come with us was depending on this bargain.

Niven's words settle in my head and I look at Malou, her cunning face still strong. That's why I couldn't kill myself, because my life was in Mother's hands and she wouldn't let me go.

" That's why you couldn't do it either. " Mallou approaches me and smiles sadly. " That's why you couldn't kill yourself. "

" Have you... " Niven turns her head, and I refuse to look at her, overcome with shame.

" How did you know? " I ask her with all the emotions churning inside me.

" I'm almost as old as time, I know a lot of things. Accept my offer or I won't come. "

I look at Niven, who is as dizzy as I am. I realize that I'm running out of time when my skin starts to tingle and my facial hair starts to fade.

" Tic- tac. " Malou whispers, covered by the shadows.

" I'll do it. " But I will decide when the time comes.

Malou slips her hand through the iron bars like a snake and steals a dagger from Niven's armor, which makes Niven fall on her ass. She cuts her palm, then hands me the bloody blade. " Seal the deal! "

I don't think too far ahead as I throw down my glove and follow her gestures, feeling the sharpness of the knife nick my skin. Pain shocks my shoulder and almost immediately dark blood spurts out, spilling everywhere, running through the cracks in the stones on the floor. Malou grabs my hand aggressively, digging her unkempt nails into my blouse. A cold thunder rumbles in the distance, as if what we are doing now is against nature, as if we have broken the laws of the universe. I feel the clap of thunder as if it had struck me, a strange energy coursing through my whole body, invigorating and exhausting me at the same time.

I refrain from screaming, the pain from the cut pumping through my muscles. I feel her dry skin rub against mine, our blood now bound together for what seems like forever. Tongue of darkness climbs up our arms, marking the bargain. Malou just grimaces, apparently gripped by this strange, piercing pain as well. Time stops for a few seconds and I watch silently as the black ink sprouts in my palm, closing the cut. A snake blooms from under my skin, while a bird, a raven, entwines itself on Malou's old palm.

" I am the eye of the crow that watches over the head of the mighty serpent. " We say in unison, our voices possessed by thousands of ancestors.

Niven stares at us dumbfounded, but doesn't linger long and begins to draw the seal on the cell door. Something crackles in the walls, disabling whatever was keeping Malou exhausted. The woman gasped, as if a pain had been removed from her soul. She quickly opened the door with the stolen key, then hurried to support Malou, who was barely holding on.

" I won't always be like this. " She admits when I position myself on the other side and we start walking down the corridor. " I just need time to recover my strength and youth. "

We'll wait for you here, when you need us the most. We'll feed from your blood, your sacrifice and we'll live. We won't forget your taste.

I turn my head back when I hear the voices speaking to me. Malou looks at me with her different eyes and warns me not to pay attention to them. And so I do, throwing the voices out of my head, ignoring this warning and promise. Climbing the stairs with such a heavy weight becomes even more difficult. The magic begins to wear off when I notice that my height is beginning to decrease, Malou's shoulders are now suspended at different heights.

Lisko opens the door when I knock on it with my boot and has Niven sign the register, leaving proof that someone had released the prisoner, then slips the King's letter into a file as well. He accompanies us to the gates in the torrential rain, along with five other guards, but he doesn't say much, as if satisfied that we've taken a nuisance off his mind. The gates close roughly behind us and I can hear the locks turning. The torches outside die before my eyes, extinguished by an unseen magic, leaving us alone in the woods.

" Father! " Niven shouts into the night once she reaches the carriage. " Father! We're... here. "

Her voice trailed off as she opened the door and saw the horror. Blood. Blood everywhere and Kallus nowhere. The red liquid was dripping from the horse's neck, their life stolen from them. I turn my head from the scenery, unable to witness that cruelty.

We were trapped here.

" He's not dead. " Malou shouts over the pouring rain, leaning painfully on my shoulder. " I would've smelled it. But he's far away from this place and I think he's hurt. Badly. "

" Kallus! Where are you? " I scream, shaking violently, surrounded again by that doom.

The emptiness in my stomach grows, and I feel like banging my head against a tree as I watch the desperation with which Niven surrounds the carriage, shouting wildly through the forest. Angrily, she throws her helmet to the ground and falls to her knees, screaming again and again, calling her father. I see her shoulders moving convulsively, as if she can't catch her breath, as if she's crying and laughing at the same time. I don't even dare look into her eyes. I am afraid it will break me, so I hide my eyes when she turns to look at me.

" He is gone. " Niven says, crying, and as I watch the night creep through the wicked trees, I know the truth: Kallus was the price I had to pay.

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roseofdarknessblog · 10 months

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Enemies to Enemies (Colt Grice x Reader + the Warriors)

I was battling a pretty bad writer's block once again... why do they happen so often lately? But anyways, I managed to come up with something. So here, enjoy some silly moments with our lovely Warriors.

♡ @chaotic-on-main ♡

„Are you sure this is a good idea?“ Colt asked, handing you a bottle of vine, while you were adjusting the roses in the wase for like the millionth time. Every detail had to be perfect. Otherwise, all of this would simply go to waste. „I think you’ll just make the whole thing worse.“

„Oh, please. What could be worse than their constant bickering? I’m getting tired of them both, but mostly Galliard.“

„Want me to remind you something?“ he teased you.

You furrowed your brows. „No, don’t! Otherwise, I’ll tell Zeke about how you lost his favorite baseball bat,“ you threatened the blond boy, adjusting the nicely polished cutlery before taking a step back to look at the table as a whole.

Everything looked even more perfect than you previously envisioned. Yes, it was a dumb idea and a complete waste of money and time, but... hey, miracles sometimes do happen, right?

„I didn’t lose it,“ Colt mumbled under his breath, averting his gaze.

„Then where is it?“ Zeke’s missing baseball bat was all the smoke between the Warriors for the last couple of days. Everyone knew about it. Well, except for Zeke.

„In the sewer.“

For a second you thought you hear him wrong. „Excuse me... what?“

„I have nothing to do with it!“ he exclaimed immediately, while his cheeks started to get a little red. „Ask Gabi and Falco. I’m sure they’ll be more than excited to tell you. At least Gabi, Falco is scared to even look at Zeke since then.“

„That’s why he’s avoiding him, now it makes sense. Or... no, it doesn’t but who cares?“ You waved your hand at him, hugged his right arm, and dragged him to stand next to you. „So, what do you think? Do we need anything else?“

The little round table in your family’s garden looked perfect. A white tablecloth, two lit candles, vine glasses and vine, plates, cutlery, and even some pink and purple confetti you had left from the time you were in charge of organizing a birthday party for Zofia earlier that year. If somebody looked at this arrangement, a romantic dinner would be the first thing to come to their mind.

But surely not a dinner for two people who couldn’t stand each other. Or at least one of them had to constantly bully the other one.

„I still think it’s a stupid idea and I really don’t know why I’m even helping you.“

„Because you love me,“ you said and kissed his cheek.

The very special „romantic“ dinner the two of you planned, was meant for Porco and Reiner. It was you, who came up with the idea, because getting shot at the nearest battlefield started to sound more appealing than listening to their constant stupid fights and taunts. While Reiner was the one, who held back most of the time and never started a fight first, Porco looked for an opportunity every chance he got. Yes, he had his reasons, you understood that, but if nobody did anything, those two would end up arguing right during your next military operation.

Good thing neither of their Titans could talk.

„Now... did you tell them to be here at seven?“ you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder.

„Yep.“

„Okay, so I guess we’ll just wait for them.“

Colt nodded, looking at you skeptically. He had every right to worry about how this evening would play out. But he surely didn’t think about Zofia and Udo rushing over and hurry both of you over to his house, because Falco and Gabi got stuck down in the sewer while they were trying to retrieve Zeke’s baseball bat.

At first, you wanted to stay at your place and wait for Reiner and Porco, but when you saw the panic on Colt’s face, you joined them.

When you arrived at the place, the guards from the Internment zone gate, who the kids befriended fairly easily, were already there, laughing their asses off, while Gabi was screaming at them angrily from down below. The two of them got stuck there after half of the old rusty ladder, they used to climb down, simply fell off and the remaining part was too high for them to reach.

„Are you sure you got it?“ you asked Colt, while he was throwing them a rope and was about to climb down to grab that stupid bat from Gabi, before helping them both up.

He mumbled something about not needing you to watch his every step, while he simultaneously cursed his little brother and Reiner’s cousin. Maybe that’s why he almost fell down as well when another step from the ladder broke off. All in all, it took you almost half an hour, until the incident was over.

Only then you realized, that your little rescue mission became an interesting comedy for some of the Eldian people passing by or looking out the windows of their homes. The only one, who was happy about it, was Gabi. She grabbed the baseball bat again, hoisted it into the air, and then bowed for everyone as if she just finished a theatre performance.

She and Falco smelled more than horribly but were still in a better condition than Zeke’s bat. Returning it to him in this condition would equal a war crime.

„I still want to hear how that bat got down to the sewer, alright?“ you asked Gabi, while all of you made your way back to your house. They both needed a shower and a set of fresh clothes Zofia and Udo agreed to borrow them. It was better than letting them go home in such a horrible state. This way the parents didn’t need to know anything. „I’m sure it’s a very interesting story.“

„Definitely!“ she shouted in excitement and started walking backward, just to look right at you, while she started talking again. However, she was cut short, when you arrived at your house. Going around, you peeked over the fence into the garden, almost forgetting how to breathe for a second.

„Look!“ you said to Colt excitedly and smiled so wide, your cheeks started hurting.

Right there, at the table, you so nicely set up sat Reiner and Porco. They were talking about something, while their vine glasses were half empty. If you didn’t know better, you would say this was truly a typical romantic dinner.

„I knew it! I knew it would work and you didn’t believe me!“ you teased Colt, jumping a little with joy. Only that your joy was short-lived, when you looked over at the boys again, as you heard a quiet sob and a roar of laughter right afterward.

„Ehm... are you sure they’re having the time of their life?“ Colt asked, trying to suppress a smile. Right next to him, the Warrior candidates were complaining that the fence was too high and they didn’t see anything. „Because I think Reiner...“

Only when you looked really closely, you saw the truth. While Porco was grinning and drinking the vine with a very satisfied look, Reiner was shaking his head and wiping away tears, while probably contemplating every single decision of his life, which lead him there.

And no, it really didn't help when he noticed you and Colt peering from behind the fence with apologetic looks on your faces. Embarrassed and probably red even behind your ears, you waved at him.

„Do you think serving the food we prepared for them would help?“ you asked Colt in a hushed voice, still waving at Reiner and now Porco as well.

„About that... I guess I forgot to turn the oven on when you told me. Otherwise, your house would be already a pile of ash, since we rushed off without thinking about anything else.“

„Oh...“

There really didn’t seem to be a way to save the whole night. Definitely not, when you suddenly heard Zeke’s voice from behind you. While he was walking up the street to your house with Pieck by his side, and already shouting something to both you and Colt, Zofia quickly pushed Gabi and Falco into the nearby bushes, hiding the baseball bat there as well.

It was better not to try your luck anymore.

#cringelord69 #23cringefest #colt grice x reader #colt grice #reiner braun #porco galliard #gabi braun #falco grice #zeke jaeger #pieck finger #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

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frozenwolftemplar · 8 months

Text

Writer's Month Day 17: At a Wedding

(oh gosh, 17 already?!?)

Fandom: Tangled: the Series

Rating: G

Summary: Eugene talks to Cass at Trevor's seal wedding and comes to some sobering realizations about the aftermath of the debacle at the Great Tree.

So...I *meant* to write just something fun and silly, but then Cass's Burned Arm showed up and it became Angst. Oops? This plays with some of the themes I touched upon in 'Burned but not Broken' , including societal attitudes towards a disfiguring injury, albeit from Eugene's perspective. This is perhaps one of the pieces I'm most proud of for this month, so I hope you'll give it a glance.

+++

“Ugh!” Cass glowered out at the rapidly darkening sky though the open flap of the tent. “That’s the whole day! I told Raps we could only stay for an hour tops."

“Cass Cass Cass Cass...” Eugene shook his head patronizingly as he leaned back against the cake table, arms crossed casually across his chest. “It’s Rapunzel. At a wedding. For animals that could arguably be called cute by someone who can overlook the fact that they smell like fish. Did you really think you’d be able to drag her away before they started literally kicking guests out?”

Cass stabbed her slice of cake with an asperity previously unknown to desserts in answer.

Eugene edged a little further away from Cass, one wary eye on her fork all the while (because if anyone could turn a utensil designed for nothing tougher than pudding into a deadly weapon, it’d be Cass). “I’m just saying, look at her!” He gestured towards his girlfriend, deep in animated conversation with a dandily-dressed man who, judging by the way he kept pointing at the banners and bouquets and ice sculpture (nice, but it couldn't hold a candle to those giant swans Rapunzel for some reason thought were tacky), must have been the decorator. “Something like this is a Rapunzel paradise!”

"Guess it’s true, then," Cass remarked ruefully, popping a forkful of cake in her mouth. "One man’s Paradise is another man’s Hell."

Hmph. For someone chowing down on sugar-drenched dessert, Cass sure was sour tonight. “What number slice of cake is that for you?”

“Second.”

Eugene arched a brow and glanced at the neat stack of empty plates behind Cass on the table, definitely more than two high, but thought better of it when she glanced out the flap again. If the sky could've been murdered with a look, she’d have done it.

Eugene frowned. Cass had been no stranger to speaking her thoughts on Rapunzel's thousand and one detours, but did she always have to be so huffy about it? Especially when today's detour was a non-life-threatening, magic-free, surprisingly good party considering it was a seal wedding? At the very least she could be grateful Trevor went with a normal, human-edible cake flavor instead of halibut

Showing people how to look on the bright side was usually Rapunzel's forte, but he'd picked up a few pointers over the years.

“Look.” Eugene straightened and moved to stand in front of Cass, slicing the air with his hand and doggedly looking away from the hand holding the fork (because she was punishing that cake and yeesh). “I know you’re eager to get back to hoofin’ it on the road for hours on end and sleeping on bare rock.” (God, he missed the caravan). “No doubt in part because it's been absolutely destroying my hair and complexion. But it’s been a rough trip for all of us, between Pincosta and that whole curse business, not to mention the Hell that went down at the Great Tree-“

At the mention of that latest misadventure, Eugene found his eyes involuntarily drifting down to Cass's right arm, the one responsible for the tremble rattling the cake plate, and his tongue froze. All thoughts of forcing rose-tinted glasses on Cassandra disintegrated as the cake and other dainties sitting in his own stomach soured.

The Tree had been Hell for all of them, but most of all for her.

He hadn’t seen the burn; he’d been pretty out of it when they escaped the Great Tree, and by the time the fog cleared from his head she was already wearing the impenetrable armor that concealed it from view.

Rapunzel had seen it, but the one time he tried to press her for details, she’d uncharacteristically clammed up and said it wasn’t their business (which was odd, because since when was other people’s personal lives *not* Rapunzel’s business?). The only definitive he got out of her that the injury was *Cass’s* fault (which was somewhere odder since he’d seen Cass in battle and it was the one time he would deign to admit she was actually better than him at something).

As far as what lay beneath the armor, he had been effectively kept in the dark by both girls. But he wasn’t blind; when you’re the best thief in the Seven Kingdoms, you learn how to pick up on things. The perpetual wince lurking just under Cass’s carefully neutral mask, the way she fumbled her way through basic training exercises as she tried to force some semblance of her old swordswoman skill into her clumsy (don’t tell her he said that) left, the way she hung back dragging her feet behind the rest of the group instead of assuredly striding out front, snapping at him and Lance to pick up the pace.

And when she, the committed early riser, strode into camp just as the rest of them were getting up? He caught the dampness in her eyes.

It was bad. The sort of injury you don’t come back from, and the thought that Cass, capable, snarky, dauntless, cut-that-out-Fitzherbert-or-I’ll-make-you Cass was now a cripple...

Never in his life had he thought he’d feel sympathy for Cass, or want to hug her of all things, and yet here he was.

Cass followed his gaze, and for a moment he saw something flash across her face. Fear, maybe? Shame? Grief? But it was gone the next minute, replaced by a teeth-baring grimace that sent a passing waiter doing an about face.

“And?”

Her spat remark, a dare for him to say anything about what the armor hid, brought Eugene back. Because of course she wouldn’t want that. Once word got out (and it would, secrets were impossible to keep in Corona), she’d be trapped in a world where everyone looked at her with pity in their eyes, if they bothered to turn them her way at all. Nothing would be as it was, and as much as he wished he could stop that from happening...the best thief in the Seven Kingdoms also knows when things are beyond his control.

But things between them? Yeah, *that* he could make sure stayed exactly the same.

Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms smugly over his chest once again and slipped on a cocksure mask to match her defiant one. “I’m just saying, Dragon Lady, it wouldn't kill you to kick back, relax, and have a little fun.” (That arm might, though- he kicked aside the intruding thought).

The growl he could practically see building in Cass’s throat tapered off and the grimace became a (relatively) tame scowl. “We did that in Hookhand’s caravan earlier today. And even if we hadn’t spending an entire afternoon at a *seal wedding* is absurd!”

...Fair point.

“And as for fun, the last wedding we went to was way more fun than this!”

Eugene blinked, incredulous. “Seriously?!? I was bound and about to marry against my will, Lance was dying of poison, and you all had to fight your way through a crime boss’s pack of goons to get to the altar.”

Cass sighed wistfully, scraping her fork across the plate to collect the last lingering globs of icing. “Good times.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Not as much that’s wrong with whoever spent all this coin on a *seal wedding.*”

Eugene swept his gaze around the tent, taking in once again the silk tablecloths, crystal stemware filled with forty-year vintage, and the pile of ostentatiously wrapped presents, all of which he’d shaken and none of which held anything worth less than a pouch stuffed with silvers.

“Yeah, that's fair.” Then, as Cass set aside her picked-clean plate onto the stack and gingerly crossed her arms (he pretended her didn't notice the wince), added with a mostly-real grin, "Hate to see what Trevor does for a baby shower."

The sound she made wasn’t quite a laugh, and she didn’t grin like he’d hoped, simply looked a little less severe, but he decided to count that as a win.

There was more that needed to be said, weightier things, quieter things, deeper things than jokes and teases and those little put downs neither truly meant that marked their conversations. He could see that in her downcast eyes as well. But Eugene kept mum.

That’s what Cass would want, after all; she hated people prying into her life, she’d told him so herself. And while placing a standing offer on the table that if she ever wanted to talk he’d be happy to listen (he really would) wouldn’t qualify as prying...well, he was committed to providing her with normalcy, right? Yeah. And touchy-feely soul bearing conversations weren’t what ‘normal’ looked like between them. That was it. This decision was what Cass would want.

(and no, this wasn’t the coward’s way out; *no one* short of Rapunzel and the Captain would *willingly* make such an offer, that’s his story and he's sticking to it).

Still, he might have said something more, he might have...

But Rapunzel appeared, babbling excitedly about the decorator Eugene just *had* to meet because he had *so many* ideas for their wedding, and dragged him away without so much as a glance Cass’s way.

He did, though, looking briefly over his shoulder.

The gaiety of the wedding seemed to shrink from Cass, leaving her in a gray, shadowy hollow, crippled arm curled protectively against her chest, and a pang lanced through his own.

Never had she looked so alone.

+++

Author's Note: I love Eugene; I think we all do. I'm not trying to cast shade on him or anything like that. But for some people, it's hard knowing what to say to a person who's life has just been irrevocably changed for the worst, and that's what I was trying to capture here, while also accounting for his failure to really mention her injury in canon. I hope you enjoyed!

#tangled the series #writersmonth2023 #writersmonth #tts fanfic #cassandra #eugene fitzherbert #in which i write #my writing #fanfiction #tts cassandra

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sabo-has-my-heart · 1 year

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For the 750 follower event:

10. Waiting together in a small shop for the horrible storm to calm down and the electricity to work again definitely brings people closer together. + 5. “I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try not to.” + Usopp with a male reader?

(More of a premise, if you want to go with it: Reader has been slowly falling for Usopp for a while now, but is nervous about messing things up with his best friends. And then they get stuck in a shop waiting for the storm to pass and the lights to come back on, and the staff have fucked off to take a break, so its just him and Usopp, and it's just... nice, listening to Usopp talk, telling stories by candle light. And then maybe things go to a confession and a kiss from there...? 👀)

Anyway, thank you 💛🍰

Hey! thanks for sending this in! I don't have much on Usopp so it's always interesting to write for him. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Male!Reader, love confessions, male x male romance

Word Count: 1245

He’d been your closest friend since you’d joined his circle of friends. It had started out fairly simple, an accidental run in at a small shop. It was one he, apparently, frequented. It had been funny, listening to him make up an excuse, telling you some grandiose lie. You hadn’t called him out on it, but you were pretty sure he knew that you knew he was lying. From there, things had just fallen into place, inviting you to meet his friends, growing closer to him… crushing on him. Was he the most honest of sorts? No. but he was sweet, kind, funny, interesting, and his stories, while obvious lies, were always entertaining. You desperately wanted to ask him out, often finding yourself daydreaming about him, but each time you thought about asking him out a nagging voice in the back of your head stopped you. What if you messed things up? What if he hated you? What if he was disgusted by you? What if, what if, what if. It scared you, you’d rather hide your feelings away just to stay by his side than risk losing him. At least this way, he was still your friend.

Walking down the isles of the same small store, you glanced out the window, the weather hadn’t been too bad when you’d gotten here, strong winds and fairly heavy rain, sure, but nothing that you couldn’t deal with. Now, however, it looked almost like a typhoon outside. You could see trees bending under the heavy wind, trunks threatening to snap, you could hear the windows rattling in their frames. Looking over at Usopp, you sighed.

“We should stick here for a while, until the storm passes. There’s no way it’s safe to go out in that.” you said, gesturing to the storm just outside the window. Usopp’s nervous laugh made you smile slightly as he tried to stand up tall and look confident.

“Are you kidding? I’ve faced heavier storms when I was little! You couldn’t blow me away with weak gusts of wind like that! But I suppose if you’d prefer to stay here, I don’t mind. The great Usopp will make sure you’re safe!” he said, trying to look brave. You just smiled and shook your head, finding his tough guy act adorable.

“I’d like that, thanks. Storms are way scarier when you’re alone.” you said casually, as if he was doing you a huge favor by staying. It was somewhat true. You did want him to stay and storms could be scarier if you were alone, but you also didn’t want either of you to attempt going outside, didn’t want either of you to get hurt. The lights overhead flickered before dying, leaving the two of you in the dark as the employee behind the counter started grumbling.

“Usopp! Hold down the fort! I ain’t workin in the damned dark!” the man said, heading towards the back. To do what, you could only guess.

“So uh, it’s just you and me now, huh?” you asked, rubbing your arm nervously.

“Yeah, but don’t worry! They have candles on the next aisle. I’ll pay them back later.” Usopp said, easily navigating you around the store, lighting a couple of candles so you could see.

“Thanks, I don’t hate the dark or anything, but it’s more comforting to have a little light during a storm.” you said, grabbing one of the stools from the other side of the counter and sitting down.

“Even if you were, I could protect you from anything that might try to hurt you. I once took down a lion twice the size of a normal lion!” he said, making you laugh.

“That must have been amazing. I bet everyone was impressed.” you said, humoring him as he went into another tale of his ‘amazing adventures’. Honestly, you could listen to his stories for hours… or days… weeks? Months…. Years? Your entire life maybe? The thought pulled you out of his latest story, simply staring at him for a moment. Your entire life? You could just sit here with him, listening to him talk, listen to his stories, just spend time with him for your entire life? To be honest, you’d never considered the idea. How could you when you were too nervous to confess? Too worried about ruining your friendship.

“Hey, Y/n! What’re you thinking about?” Usopp asked, noticing that you were no longer paying attention. You stared at him for a moment, not entirely certain what to say.

“You.” you said softly, staring into his eyes.

“W-what?” Usopp asked, his cheeks starting to turn pink. Had he heard you right?

“You, I’m thinking about you, Usopp. I…I can’t stop thinking about you…no matter how hard I try not to.” you admitted, looking away from him. This was it, this was where he would reject you, where he’d tell you that you’d ruined a perfectly good friendship.

“You’re… please tell me you’re not joking, Y/n.” Usopp said, starting to fidget, looking away as well.

“I… I’m not joking. Usopp, I… I like you, a lot.” you said, rubbing your arm nervously.

“Why not say something sooner? I uh, you’re really, I mean… ahem… the great Usopp would never turn down someone as spectacular as yourself.” he said boldly, falling back on his usual grandiose claims. You chuckled and shook your head, smiling at him.

“I’m not sure if you’re serious or if you’re joking around like always. Please, Usopp. Be straight with me, do you like me back or not?” you asked, swallowing hard.

“I, o-of course I do. Like I just said, you’re spectacular.” Usopp muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking away again. You sighed in relief, still smiling.

“So I… haven’t ruined our friendship?” you asked, feeling less and less nervous by the minute.

“Of course not! Even if I didn’t like you back, we could still be friends! Not that I don’t like you back, because I do, I’m just saying.” he said, slight panic in his voice. You just laughed, grinning like an idiot as you looked back at him.

“I get what you’re saying.” you said, stopping him from rambling on.

“Oh, that’s great. So uh… since, you know, you like me and I like… I like you, would you like to maybe go get something to eat after this? N-not as friends but as, ahem, as more?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“As your boyfriend?” you half teased, enjoying the blush that spread across his entire face.

“Y-yeah. I mean, if you want.” he said, glancing at you before looking away again.

“Yeah, I’d like that… come here, there’s something I want to show you.” you said, enjoying how cute he looked as his head tilted to the side. Usopp leaned closer, his eyes widening when you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into a kiss. You normally weren’t so bold, but after telling Usopp how you felt and not being rejected, you were feeling really good. You weren’t sure when either of you had closed your eyes, only that when you did, the lights were on again, making you laugh. Looking out the window, you smiled, the wind and rain having let up.

“We should get out of here before the storm decides to change its mind and start back up. Grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the store, still grinning like an idiot.

#one piece #one piece usopp #op usopp #usopp x reader #god ussop #god usopp x reader

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callofdooty · 1 year

Text

Somehow I Feel Hopeful

Also posted onto AO3

Fandom: Call Of Duty: Ghosts

Summary: Written for Whumpril Day 11:Nightmares | Bedside Vigil | "I'm right here."

"Despite the pain tearing him apart, both inside and out, he held onto his confused anger, his disbelief. Rorke, who held himself so high, was now something he'd once hated. Was it too far to call him a hypocrite? Clearly, they'd done something to him, morphed him into a monster (the one he was always capable of becoming) but Ajax couldn't help but feel angered by it. Betrayed. They trusted him. Believed in him.

And they left him to die.

No. They looked for him for weeks. They'd searched high and low for him. Elias would have turned the whole world upside down looking for him, and Ajax would have followed suit.

But they didn't. Rorke (and his own mind) reminded him coldly. And so, there he was. Holding onto threads of hope. Hope that his team - his family - knew where he was. Hope that they'd get there in time."

OR: Ajax survives the events of Struck Down; he and Keegan find comfort in each other.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Alex V. "Ajax" Johnson/Keegan P. Russ

Warning/labels: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Vaguest allusions to torture, talk of death/dying

He barely made it.

If they’d gotten there an hour, a minute, a second later–

But they didn’t. He reminded himself. They’d gotten there in time. Ajax was here. Ajax was alive. And Keegan had been driven up the wall with every agonising moment he wasn’t by his side. Just knowing wasn’t enough. He needed to hold Ajax’s hand in his, needed to see Ajax alive and awake and not seconds away from dying - he wanted to see anything other than that.. Dreadfully resigned look he’d had back at the stadium.

That… That’s a sight Keegan knew he wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. It’s already been the subject of many nightmares. Well. As many as you could get when your idea of “resting” was intermittent naps between busy work and fretting endlessly over the well being of another.

Now that he was here, hunched over in an uncomfortable chair, he’s started to realise just how exhausted he is. It always seems easy to just keep going - burning the candle at both ends - when you’re kept so occupied. But after sitting there, doing nothing but waiting… The Nothing started to feel less like nothing, becoming a weight that fell and pressed onto his head and shoulders, draping over him like the world’s shittiest weighted blanket.

He can’t stay awake forever, though. And waiting until Ajax finally woke up was a gamble. So he rubbed his hands across his face with a sigh before leaning back into the (still uncomfortable) chair, arms folded across his chest. It wasn’t so much being lulled to sleep as being dropped off of a canyon into it. He was out like a light before he could even realise.

It was a welcome surprise that he wasn't plagued by vivid, morbid visions this time around. At least, not any that he could recall. When he came back around sometime later, he wondered briefly whether it was a lucky break, or he’d become desensitised to them already. How long he was out was any guess. Maybe an hour, maybe twelve. No part of him seemed any less exhausted and weighed down.

The lingering grogginess threatened to pull him back to sleep. He's not exactly sure what drew him awake, or at least he wasn't in the moment. But then, his attention was drawn quickly to Ajax, who twitched, flinched. Almost immediately, it was followed by unsteady, panicked breaths that pulled Keegan right out of his chair to stand at Ajax’s bedside, mind already whirring with worry.

Ajax's mutters were hardly coherent, barely understandable, but it doesn’t take a genius to know what - who - Ajax was muttering about.

Before Keegan could do much else, Ajax shot awake with a small gasp and Keegan was quick to carefully push him back down, holding his shoulder to keep him from moving too fast; from hurting himself. The muttering continued, with Ajax continuing to plead with someone that wasn’t there (anymore.) A rush of anger attempted to choke Keegan right then and there, but he swallowed it back, pacifying it with concern and love rather than the seething hatred collecting in his chest like smog. His touch remained gentle despite the internal struggle.

Ajax. Focus on Ajax.

“Shh… Shh, Ajax, it’s okay.” With his free hand, he gently cupped Ajax’s face, lightly running his thumb over his cheekbone. The broken pleas stopped, but the panicked heaving didn’t ease up just yet. It’s hard to watch. Hard to stomach. Ajax shouldn’t be going through this. He doesn’t fucking deserve this shit. All Keegan can do is hope his efforts are enough. “I'm right here, sunshine. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“Keegan…?” Ajax’s eyes finally opened, watery and red and tired. The sight of Keegan seemed to be a relief, if the tension that melted off of him was any indication. Wasting no time, he reached up and pulled Keegan in, the both of them instantly wrapping their arms around each other.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. Noone’s gonna hurt you here.” Keegan rumbled, holding Ajax as close as possible, as protectively as possible. Whether it was the words, the touch or the sight; Ajax's panic receded, slinking away to hide and wait out for another time to strike. It wasn’t a fix-all, but neither expected it to be. The momentary reprieve was enough, at least for now. After the shit they’ve gone through…

“Keegan…” Ajax whispered again, voice hoarse and barely anything above a whisper, “I… It’s…” A pause. The words escaped him, too heavy to hold onto. His brows furrowed for a moment. He tried again. “It was him…”

Rorke. The enraged beast inside Keegan’s chest yowled, clawing at his lungs, his heart, the prison bars of his ribcage. It was a wonder how he kept it at bay; a hitched breath being the only thing to show for its frenzied efforts. Placated with future bloodshed and justice, the fleeting rampage stopped and he refocused, waiting for Ajax to continue at his own pace.

“I- H-He…” A shudder, “He’s not… He’s not the same…” As Ajax spoke, he seemed to struggle with himself, teetering on the edge of despair. Whatever they did to him, Keegan doesn't even want to imagine. To have Ajax, of all people, in this state... Ajax, who sees the light in any situation, Ajax who's always fighting back... “They did something. They changed him… He…” A spark flashed in Ajax’s eyes, and the panic rapidly returned, tears falling as his words fell apart again. “F-Fuck, Keegan, I-He-... I told him… I-I told h-him– I’m s-so sorry…”

Fear lurched inside Keegan’s gut. As much as he didn’t want to admit, those words were nothing short of terrifying. The more the Federation knew, the more fucked their chances became. And now with Rorke on their side...

No. Not right now. No panicking. There's still time.

“Hey, easy sunshine. You did your best. It could’ve been any of us.” At least, any of the original Ghosts. Even hearing the name - the desperate, choked out warning Ajax had given at the stadium - had him feeling like he’d been submerged in Arctic waters. His blood froze - the world froze - in an instant. He could only imagine what it was like to experience it first hand. Alone. He’s pretty sure even Merrick wouldn’t have been able to walk away from that bombshell unscathed. "We'll figure it out, alright? Like we always do. We can talk about it when you're doing better."

As Keegan spoke, he resumed the small, soothing movements of his thumb from earlier, wiping away the tears that fell into its path. And Ajax looked up at him with a look so broken yet so filled with trust and love and hope. A look that simultaneously broke his heart and put it back together again. A mix of adoration and relief - sweet, sweet relief - surged through him, and he gently pressed a kiss to Ajax’s forehead; an action that proved comforting to the both of them. In the fragile, quiet moment, they looked one another in the eyes, wordlessly communicating as much. The love there was less like a feeling; more like an indisputable fact. Logic. Common sense. Not in a way that felt mandatory or forced, but in a way that felt… natural. Like breathing. Grass is green, the sky is blue, Ajax and Keegan love each other; more than words could ever truly describe. “Get some rest, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Ajax was hesitant, and Keegan couldn’t blame him one bit for it. After going through all of that - torn down and hurt by someone once thought to be safe, someone held in such high regard - it’s only natural the idea of sleeping would be off-putting. He looked like he had so much to say, but each passing moment only seemed to drain him further. Struggling against his eyes that were closing against his own will, he gave a weak tug to Keegan's shirt.

"Lay with me, please?" He muttered quietly, hopefully. And who could decline such a thing? It was a tight fit, and a delicate dance around all of Ajax's injuries, but they made it work, carefully slotting together in the way they always did. Ajax buried his head into Keegan's chest, shakily sighing. "Never been so... scared before..." The confession is hushed and fragile.

...

And, above all, it's enitrely, terribly honest.

Nothing could quite compare in Ajax's mind. Even the memory of Sand Viper didn't feel as foreboding as this. Getting caught was one thing, it already had his nerves going. But getting dragged out there, surrounded by the enemy, only to come face-to-face with the man he once considered an ally? Not just that. He'd been a guide, a leader, a protector. A man that fought with righteous fury over his teammates getting hurt, now looking down at him with that brutal, seething hatred. A hatred he only ever directed at his enemies. A hatred that very few survived the receiving end of.

'You look like you've seen a Ghost.'

His blood ran cold. Anxiety and genuine fear dropped in his chest, several tonnes constricting his lungs, making his heart skip. But in the face of his world being flipped, in the face of a nightmare, Ajax pushed back. He had to. He held himself strong, defiant, all traces of fear shoved deep down in favour of something stronger.

And a prideful part of him wants to say that it lasted quite a while. Despite the pain tearing him apart, both inside and out, he held onto his confused anger, his disbelief. Rorke, who held himself so high, was now something he'd once hated. Was it too far to call him a hypocrite? Clearly, they'd done something to him, morphed him into a monster (the one he was always capable of becoming) but Ajax couldn't help but feel angered by it. Betrayed. They trusted him. Believed in him.

And they left him to die.

No. They looked for him for weeks. They'd searched high and low for him. Elias would have turned the whole world upside down looking for him, and Ajax would have followed suit.

Rorke probably felt the same way all those years ago. But that didn't matter anymore.

With time, the threads broke. The pain was too much. The information was bare bones but enough, forced out of him at his breaking point, and the second it was, he was cast aside. Left to die in a room tinted red, his hazy thoughts wandered to Grim and Torch, their faces crossed out on the far wall. A sinking feeling hit him. Had this been their fate too? Were they just as scared as he was? Trapped, knowing so much but unable to do anything except lie there and tremble, nerves set alight by an unending agony, not all of which was physical.

This is it. I'm going to die here. He'd thought to himself.

Terrifying that he became so resigned to the idea.

"Ajax!" The call had brought him back a little. It seemed distant at first, but then Keegan had been there, pulling Ajax up and into him immediately after. Amongst the overwhelming, foreboding sense of doom, he was comforting presence, and even now, Ajax knows that if there was any place in the world he'd want to die, it would be in Keegan's arms.

Is such a thought selfish? Maybe it is, but Ajax is only human.

The sight of Keegan and Merrick gave him one last valiant rush. With a newfound desperation, he tried to warn them. Rorke is behind it all, Rorke was hunting them all down, Rorke knew too much, too much and it was all his fault and--

"Ajax...!" he was pulled from the memory by Keegan's soft yet urgent voice. He's still shaking. He's still in pain. But the looming sense of dying ebbed away as he, once again, grounded himself, holding on tightly to Keegan's clothing. The front of Keegan's shirt had been soaked by tears, and it took a minute to register that they were his. Far too lost in his memories - dreams? - that he hadn't even noticed the next wave of sobs tearing through him. Keegan pulled him closer, muttering more assurances that Ajax melted into, exhausted and shaking.

A dull sense of frustration trickled creeped up inside him as well. He hated feeling like this, hated feeling so fragile. Shattered into pieces that barely even reflected everything he thought himself to be, everything he aspired to be. Everything that he was. He's been through many horrors, unknowable horrors that noone should ever have to witness, and yet this is the thing that tears him down the most. The thing that renders him to ashes, and it was someone he thought could never hurt him.

Fuck.

He could feel himself spiralling again, so instead he held onto Keegan tighter, trying his best to banish the thoughts that plaguing his mind, latching onto the last scraps of positivity he had.

Alive. Safe. Here. With Keegan.

Here. Alive.

Another chance. A fighting chance.

They'll figure it out, like they always do.

He can't do much else in the moment, other than bury his face into Keegan's chest and take comfort in the contact (contact that he thought he'd never have again.) So that's exactly what he does. He lets himself have the comfort.

"We're gonna be okay..." he feels the statement more than he hears it.

"Everything's always okay when you're around." He replied sleepily. Keegan huffed.

"I'll do my best to live up to that." A promise. One that neither of them were sure they could fulfill, but would try their best to nonetheless.

"Already are." A few moments passed, and Ajax settled down once more to sleep. The ache of his body was getting to him, but before he dropped off, he muttered one more declaration, yet another thing he thought he'd never be able to do again. "... I love you."

"I love you." Keegan whispered back, tracing soothing patterns across his back, "Love you more than anything else in this world. 'nd we're gonna make it that son of a bitch's problem as soon as we can."

"'s that you asking me on a date?" Not the response he'd been expecting, judging by the way he laughed.

"Yeah... Yeah, I guess it is."

"Good... Looking forward to it..."

"Get some rest, Sunshine."

Yeah. Pain. Aching. In the comfort of Keegan's arms, Ajax finally lets himself rest again.

#alex ajax johnson #keegan p russ #keegan russ #call of duty ghosts #whumpril2023 #whumprilday11 #angst #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #fluff #keejax #ajax/keegan #alex ajax johnson/keegan p russ

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sohemotional · 1 year

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107

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

Brittany had a white sheet over her head with two holes for her eyes and was shining a flashlight up into her face as she spoke in a “spooky” voice, waving her hands around. Rachel jumped back in alarm.

Rachel, Tina, Finn, Mercedes and Mike were all staring at the girl weirdly as she took out a Ouija board, placing it on the floor of her apartment on Halloween night. She pulled the sheet off of her head, grinning widely at her friends as she observed their panicked faces.

“B-Brittany are you sure that’s a good idea?” Her roommate, Tina stuttered.

“Yeah, relax, Guys. It’s totally fine. I play with it all the time when I’m bored and like, it doesn’t even work. Nothing happens.”

“What? All the time?! Brittany, you shouldn’t play with that thing!” Rachel yelped while Finn looked around awkwardly as the short, intense brunette grabbed his hand tightly. Her eyes darted around the room nervously as if expecting to find ghosts lurking in the shadows. “Don't you know what that is? There could be… demons in here now!”

“Wait a minute. Brittany, what are you expecting it to do?“ Mike asked, raising an eyebrow. “When you play with the board, I mean.”

Brittany took a bite of a mini chocolate bar. They were almost out of them, thanks to Finn, who had chocolate smeared all over his face. Rachel sighed as he grinned at her, not realizing he had melted chocolate all over him.

“I dunno. Grant me three wishes?”

“That’s a genie, Brittany and you’ll get that with a magic lamp. You need a magic lamp for that,” Rachel intoned in flat voice, becoming more annoyed with her bimbo friend. “We’ve all seen Aladdin. Wait a minute, what am I saying? Magic isn’t real.”

“I dunno this thing just kinda sucks," Brittany shrugged, "Here, you try, Tina. You must know all about this stuff already.”

“Whoa, whoa Britt, you know I’m all about the horror movie aesthetic but using an actual Ouija board is a little much, even for me, and these black candles you have are seriously adding to the creepy vibe. Not to mention it's literally Halloween night.”

“Fake goth.” Mike muttered sarcastically under his breath, earning a growl from his girlfriend as he pretended to be disappointed. “If you can’t even master Ouija boards, then when are you gonna move on to seances?”

“Hopefully never. You and Tina need to go to church. You too, Brittany. Especially you.” Mercedes declared as Rachel nodded beside them.

“Look Tina, just move the pointy thingy around. It’s just like instant messaging but with a board game.”

“Oh hell to the no. I’m leaving!” Mercedes announced, making the sign of the cross with her fingers. Finn ran with her, giving a manly scream and Rachel took off after them, flabbergasted, as the planchette began to move on its own. Tina gasped, staring at it in awestruck silence. Mike was a little unnerved but he thought it would be too unmanly to run away.

“It’s spelling something!” Tina shouted in a mixture of fear and excitement. Lord Tubbington began yowling as the room felt colder.

“Yeah. It’s someone texting me through the board thingy again. I know all of them already and I guess they get lonely so they all wanna talk. One at a time please, Guys.”

“Brittany?! They talk to you all the time?”

“Yeah, like it’s hard? I mean sometimes they give me the silent treatment but usually it’s getting them to shut up that’s the problem.”

“Oh my God, oh my God” Tina shrieked as the words “H-E-Y G-O-T-H" were spelt out, Mike reading out each of the letters helpfully as it moved to them quickly.

“Rude!” Tina gasped in outrage.

“H-A H-A H-A"

“Hello?” Brittany called out, as casually as if she was having a phone call with a friend. “Who are you?”

Your worst nightmare

“Oh yeah, you’re sooo mean and threatening” Brittany rolled her eyes while Tina screamed.

I am

The planchette started moving again but in slow, labored movements rather than the quick, erratic ones they had just seen.

Not. Liar.

Shut up

Go to hell

You first

“Oh my God the ghosts are arguing with each other!” Tina shouted. Brittany just tilted her head to the side, not really noticing a problem and she thought of something.

“What are you wearing, Mean Ghost?” Brittany asked in boredom, laying on her back with her arms behind her head.

No sexting

“Why not? You sound cute.” Brittany gushed.

The planchette quivered on the board as if the ghost was unsure of how to answer that one. The entire room shook as if they were having a mini earthquake for a few seconds and Tina screamed again, Mike eventually slapping his hand over her mouth and hushing her.

“Brittany, are you seriously flirting with a ghost?” Tina deadpanned after her panic had worn off a little.

“Why not?” The blonde shrugged, turning to the board again and speaking loudly. “Are you cute?”

This time, the planchette leapt off of the board and the lights flickered a few times, making Tina jump into Mike’s arms. Then everything was still and the crazy energy seemed to vanish.

Brittany shrugged with a giggle. “I guess I must have scared them off.”

Brittany kept playing with the board whenever she had any free time and next time the friends sat around at the apartment, Artie, Brittany’s ex-boyfriend was with them.

“Hi Guys and girls! I wanna talk now so like, move the planchette okay.” Brittany ordered the imaginary people. Spirits. Whatever they were.

H-I B-R-I-T-T The planchette spelled out.

“Hi, Hottie.” Brittany murmured seductively, causing her friends to raise their eyebrows.

"Oh wow, Brittany. I hope we're not interrupting anything here," Mike joked, "Maybe we need to give you two some time alone."

The entire board flipped upside down, the lights flickering like crazy and Brittany had a feeling this was the bashful, mean ghost she talked to before who freaked out and left after she called them cute. She set the board back up.

“Hi, Mr. Shy Guy.”

The board was still for a long moment.

“Wow, you’re pretty awkward.”

Girl the planchette corrected, then Not shy

“Oops, sorry. So like, what do you want to talk about?”

Artie leaned over, putting his arm around Brittany casually at some point. Out of nowhere, a force knocked his arm right off of her shoulders. Artie yelped, looking around the room in confusion as he tried to figure out what could have happened.

Ha ha ha

“Hey that was not funny… you, you demon! Brittany… I think you have a poltergeist… I’m going to leave.” Artie groaned.

The planchette moved super fast again as Artie wheeled away at full speed.

“Don’t come back, Wheels.”

“I think you have a jealous ghost, Brittany.” Tina giggled.

___

Brittany tried to talk to the ghost again when she was alone. She had a feeling she would talk to her more openly when her friends weren’t around and she was right.

“What’s your actual name?”

Santana

“How old are you?”

Twenty-five

“Me too.”

“Why are you here in this house?”

Lonely

“You can always talk to me, Santana.”

You too

A long pause.

You are the most beautiful girl

“You’re so romantic.” Brittany sighed. If she could date a ghost, she had a feeling this Santana would be her soulmate. Sometimes Brittany would hear a low, hazy voice singing a beautiful song, soothing her early in the morning or feel a gentle breeze, or a presence beside her when she was alone and her roommate, Tina was out.

She even woke up after feeling a pressure at the foot of her bed, a hand touching her arm to wake her up from a nightmare. She knew it was Santana. Brittany was never afraid of her. She kept calling for her to come back and she always did. Whenever she had a bad day, Santana would appear in some form and it would cheer her up.

---

Brittany gasped when she came home one day to find a ring of salt encircling the living room, along with some guy chanting from a book and Tina burning some sage.

“No, no, Tina, what are you doing?!”

“I called an exorcist and got this stuff for good measure. Brittany, I’m sick of this ghost. She’s constantly hiding my shoes, she jumps out at me at random times and I swear I heard laughter when I was looking at myself in the mirror. She even laughs at my singing! She has got to go. All of the knocked over vases she does just to annoy me... If this doesn’t work, I’m calling Mike’s mom to ask her to do an ancient spell.”

“No wait, Tina, please don’t scare her off, she's just bored and lonely. I’ll talk to her!”

Brittany rushed to get out her Ouija board, locking herself in her bedroom and setting it out on the floor.

“Please come back, Santana.” Tears came to her eyes as she kept asking for the girl and didn’t get a response after a long time had passed. Just when Brittany had given up, the ghost appeared before her.

Lord Tubbington began meowing at a high volume, moving around the apartment at a high speed she hadn’t seen him use in ages. Brittany gasped as an ethereal form appeared, translucent before her and a cold wind blew. She wasn’t afraid, just fascinated with what she saw. It was the form of a beautiful girl with black hair, high cheekbones and dark, deep eyes. She was the most stunning person Brittany had ever seen.

“Brittany, I’m here,” The ghost whispered in a soothing, low and raspy voice. Brittany would never forget her beautiful voice. “Don't cry."

“Santana? I thought you... I thought you were gone forever. That’s really you?”

The ghost nodded and leaned in close, kissing her. Brittany gasped, not expecting it but closed her eyes when she realized what the ghost was doing. She felt the slightest soft pressure against her lips and leaned into it. It felt as intimate as a kiss as it would have been if Santana was standing before her in the flesh.

"I love you, Brittany."

“I love you too. Please don’t ever leave me.” She whispered and felt a hand touch her face.

“I'll always protect you. I’ll never leave you alone.”

When she opened her eyes, Santana was gone. She found her M&Ms re-arranged in a heart-shaped pattern and smiled.

#Brittana #Brittany S. Pierce #Brittany Pierce #Santana Lopez #Brittana fanfiction #Halloween fic #Glee #Thanks so much for sending this prompt Anon #my fics #Brittana AU #The ghosts are more scared of Britt than she is of them

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waterlilylullabies · 10 months

Text

𝓑𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓼: 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝔀𝓸

A Ballad from The Venus Lounge

Warnings: Violence against women, swearing

The Dreaming

He finds her first in the dreams of her mother. Thalia, the joyous one. He remembers her laughter, suspects he will never forget it. But her dreams grew sombre with the birth of the child, the colour slipped from them, the silence,

profound.

In these dreams the child is an infant, red faced, squalling. Then a little older, dark haired, toddling. He delved deeper and deeper, searching for a name, but even in sleep Thalia is careful not to speak it, calls the child; her baby, her pet, her beauty.

There is one nightmare however, a sky on fire, unspeakable horror. She whispers the child’s name over and over, then the skein of Thalia’s life is cut.

But he has found her.

The Waking World

Cassie drops into the bar stool beside Belle with a contented sigh, she fishes in her clutch bag, pulls out her lipstick and begins to touch it up using the back of a spoon as a mirror. Evelyn, who had been drying off the cutlery strewn across the counter with a towel snatches it back.

Cassie gives her a sweet, reproachful look, but knows to pick her battles, so she turns to Belle, “Sweetie you’ll never guess what I saw outside.” Cassie is beautiful and her enthusiasm is infectious, Belle can’t help but smile “Go on, tell me.” Even Evelyn is dawdling in her work, just to catch the story.

“A pervert bird!” Cassie laughs. Belle wants to ask what she means, but they hear Venus’ car pulling up outside so they each endeavour to look busy.

Venus had been christened Mary Patricia Bernadette O’ Malley and this had been her greatest misery in life. The day she turned eighteen she had the name expunged from all public records and had it replaced with Venus Lovelace, which was equally ridiculous, but far more evocative. She affected a French accent at all times and was immaculately groomed. She was as out of place in shabby little Pleasance as it was possible to be and that was exactly how she liked it. A single candle shines all the brighter in a darkened room.

She bought the local dive bar on a whim, with money from her most recent (and most successful) divorce and transformed it into The Venus Lounge. The clientele were still the same old tired faces and there was nothing to be done for the dank stench of loneliness that lingered in every room but Venus worked hard to give the place a rarefied air. She liked her girls (her staff, all female, all pretty) to be talented, she wanted writers, dancers, singers, artists. Venus felt that their wide eyed hopefulness might brighten the place up a little.

“Bonjour mes enfants!” She trills, her heels play a rapid staccato across the tiles. The women mumble their hellos. Venus is plotting something. She scans the room.

Evelyn, Cassie, Belle.

Belle.

Mais oui.

Venus click-clacks towards the table Belle is wiping. “Ma chérie, I would speak with you. In private.” Evelyn and Cassie toss her a look.

Venus’ office is decorated with pictures of herself. There is a plate of macarons on the desk, either fake or very ancient, Belle cannot be certain which, but refuses them immediately when they’re offered.

“Ah ma chérie, I am going to ask you a favour” Belle begins a mental audition of viable excuses.

“You will of course refuse, but that is why I will give you this now.” Venus slides a sizeable stack of cash towards her “and this after.” She waves a larger stack in her left hand, just out of Belle’s reach.

Belle wonders how illegal this favour is likely to be.

“What do I have to do?” She asks, she cannot keep the suspicion from her voice. Venus sighs. “Jane, she has left. I have no singer.”

Jane had been threatening to leave for weeks, she wanted to marry her boyfriend Donny a former patron of The Venus Lounge, but he wouldn’t agree to it as long as other men leered at her. It didn’t seem to bother him that not six months earlier, he had been one of the men leering.

“Venus, I don’t sing.” Venus waves her hand as if she is swatting flies “Nonsense, everyone sings and besides, I don’t even really need you to sing, I only ask that you hold the microphone and look pretty.”

It is a lot of money, enough to leave Pleasance, which has been proving more difficult than Belle had initially thought.

“Why not ask Cassie or Evelyn?”

Venus makes a vague noise, her gaze trained on a portrait of herself done in oils, hanging above the door of the office.

“So they said no?”

Venus bristles “Yes, but I wasn’t going to pay them half as much as I’m paying you!”

Belle picks up the money, feels the heft of it.

“One week Belle and then I’ll find a replacement for Jane, unless you like it of course…” Venus is smiling now, she knows Belle will agree.

“One week” says Belle and pockets her escape route.

The Dreaming

Dream’s Raven shifts uneasily from foot to foot, glancing up at The Dream King with a look, that had he been human, would have expressed extreme discomfort.

“So… This is a kidnap mission?”

Dream of the Endless is affronted “Matthew we are retrieving the Siren from The Waking World and bringing her to safety in The Dreaming”

“But you’re not going to explain any of this to her? You’re just going to do your sand thing and bring her here?”

“I doubt an explanation will make the situation any less… Unexpected”

That may be true Matthew thinks, but Dream of the Endless’ threshold for the unexpected is likely to be a hell of a lot more expansive than the average human’s.

“Sir, maybe just try? Talk to her first? I mean it can’t hurt.”

Dream sighs. “Fine.” He is pouring out his sand and then they are moving, falling, twisting through worlds.

The Waking World

“There’s the bird!” Cassie shrieks, gesticulating wildly to the high window of the ladies toilet. The bird in question is a raven, who to his credit and the women’s delight, has the decency to look almost mortified at being caught spying on them and takes flight immediately. “Stop squirming” Evelyn chastises, slapping Cassie’s head gently with the back of the hairbrush. She is working Cassie’s hair into a bouffant that on any other person would look comical, but on Cassie looks like a golden halo.

Venus peeks her head around the door.

“Vite, vite, mes enfants! It is busy tonight.”

Evelyn and Cassie hurry towards the door, not bothering to clear away the mess behind them. Women don’t come to The Venus Lounge, the ladies toilet is their impromptu personal dressing room.

Belle, stands for a moment, surveying herself in the mirror, gathering her nerve. She would have sung for a lot less, but Venus doesn’t need to know that.

She doesn’t hear him come in, but she sees his reflection in the mirror. Their eyes meet in the glass and she turns, heart pounding.

The most important thing, the thing you must remember in these situations is not to be afraid, fear is blood in the water. Whatever happens, do not give them your fear.

She puts her hands on her hips, hopes he doesn’t see them shake. There is a weight to his gaze that makes it hard to meet his eyes but she does it anyway. “You’re not supposed to be here” she smiles, in a voice she hopes is casual, sweet, mollifying. He doesn’t move, he opens his mouth as if to speak but closes it again

Venus’ head pops back around the door. “Belle they are waiting!” Belle, still shaking, hurries to the door, “Sorry Venus I was just talking to-“ she turns to gesture to the dark haired stranger, but, he’s not there.

In the alley beside the bar Dream of the Endless is giving his raven a dressing down. “Your plan is too difficult.”

Matthew squawks. “I never said that you should approach her in the ladies room! What did she say when you told her? Did she freak out?”

Dream is silent and in a small voice he murmurs “I did not tell her. I felt.. Uncertain”

“You’re not sure it’s her?” Matthew flaps his wings anxiously, Dreams lack of confidence perturbs him.

“It is her, there is no doubt. But, it suddenly seemed like a terrible burden, this knowledge, and I-“

Dream sighs heavily “At any rate she has not used her powers.” Dreams coat flaps in a breeze that tumbles old newspaper down the alley. “How can you tell?” Matthew asks.

“All magic leaves a mark, it lingers on the user like a scent, if she had used her powers she could not stand in that bar without risking being torn apart.”

“Fuck.” Matthew sighs “So how would she use them, her powers I mean?” Dream casts his eyes over the flashing neon sign of The Venus Lounge. “Through song”.

From the bar comes the screech of microphone feedback. “Uhh, boss, maybe you should go back inside.”

Cassie and Evelyn have planted themselves behind the bar but Belle, thinking of the money in her duffel bag, moves further towards the makeshift stage in the centre of the lounge.

Venus is standing under the flickering spotlight, microphone in hand, the patrons look up wearily. Belle wonders why Venus bothers, all they want to do in here is drink and forget. But now she’s introducing Belle as The Venus Lounge’s very own Nightingale and folding herself elegantly in front of the piano.

Belle ascends the stage to half hearted claps and a giddy whoop from Cassie.

Venus whispers to her “Sing something sweet dear, I’ll follow along!”

Belle clears her throat, trying to think of ‘something sweet’. Mimi had been sweet. Mimi sang a song about a rodeo and a rock and roll band and a kiss. The song made Chester cry.

Remembering them feels like choking. She wants to climb down off the stage and hand back the money, but she has to get out of Pleasance by Summertime or she never will.

So she sings.

Had singing always felt like this? She doesn’t know, she hasn’t sung since she was a child when she would sit in the bath with the woman called Mother and their voices would bounce against the tiled walls.

Singing feels like… Like nothing else, it feels warm and good and right. It feels like jumping from a pier, like the first drag of a cigarette, it feels like being held and loved. It feels like standing exposed on a hilltop, it feels like everything.

Belle does not notice that Venus is not accompanying her, that the woman is simply staring, not quite at her, but through her almost, as if she is trying to see inside Belle to where the music was coming from.

Cassie and Evelyn are holding each other, having dispensed entirely with the charade of being anything other than madly in love.

The patrons are staring too. Some of them are weeping, some of them are on their knees but all of them have their eyes fixed on Belle.

Dream of the Endless watches too, tries to think through the song but the music is quicksand.

The song ends.

Everything happens all at once.

Venus leaps up from her stool, her hands reaching for Belle’s throat, the men rush the stage en masse, their hands open and grabbing and Evelyn and Cassie are twining their fingers and leaving through the front door. The man from the bathroom is moving towards the stage and he has something in his hand.

Silence falls, the men’s eyes have rolled back in their heads but before Belle has time to scream the man has grabbed her wrist and she is spinning, falling and rising in a whirl of sand.

Authors Note: Thank you for reading, feedback welcome!

PS. For anyone who’s interested, the song referenced in this chapter is Papa Was a Rodeo by The Magnetic Fields, I do have a playlist for this fic, which I’m happy to share if people would be interested!

#dream of the endless fic #dream x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman #the sandman fic #the sandman x reader #morpheus #morpheus fic #morpheus x reader

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