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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months

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Miguel and Hobie Fighting for Your Love

Summary: Both men knew they were wildly in love with you. But, as you remain oblivious to their feelings, their conflict strengthens. A war is brewing.

“I won’t let you have her.” Miguel’s eyes gleamed between the velvet sheets of artificial night, the dim glow of the control panel at his back, casting a shroud over his front. Hobie stood before him, gripping his guitar by the neck, resting it over the back of his shoulders. His other hand sat in his pocket, creating the illusion of comfort. Yet, beneath his lax exterior, Miguel could hear his heart pounding. Racing. Hobie drew a breath, looked off to the side.

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make, Big Man.” Eyes half-lidded, he returned to Miguel, dragging his stare. Lethargy. Gave a thin smile. “Though, I suppose that if you knew that – really believed it – you’d know that you don’t stand a chance–”

Miguel’s fists clenched, the sound of his suit squealing beneath his grip causing Hobie’s gaze to flicker. He swallowed, shallow. He knew what Miguel was capable of – had seen how many lives he’d gladly put at risk for you. And he’d do it again if it weren’t for the fact that your friendship to both him and Hobie was what kept them locked in a stalemate; a spectral triangle; Bermuda. An anomaly in itself.

Of course, you had no clue that you’d captured the hearts of the two superheroes. The problem was that they did. Their softened attitude towards you, their care for the most banal of features of your life, their seemingly bottomless investment in your close circle of friends and beyond could have been construed as platonic concern. Friendship of the highest degree.

Once they realised that, individually, they were not alone in the pursuit of your heart, a competition was born. Miguel, ever the organised, careful individual he was, orchestrated your time together, manufactured it, monitored it – poured over it with a fine-toothed comb. Many a night had he spent awake wondering what your accidental brushing of hands had meant, whether the warmth that had flushed your cheeks was the result of his presence or the joke he’d just cracked, your laughter Calliopic. Persephonic.

He savoured every hug you shared, no matter how brief, sewing the patchwork memories into the fabric of his heart, the fragrance soaking into his bones. Your phantom warmth wrapped around him tightly, a second suit, whenever he needed it – needed you. He’d find ways of encouraging physical contact whenever he could, his heart throbbing at the feeling of your face pressed into his chest, your arms around his back as he embraced you.

He wondered what your kisses tasted like. Whether you thought of him when you used that chapstick he bought you, ice cream cake – the aroma of celebration. Because, to him, any moment with you was a celebration.

Miguel would offer to take you home after work. Though, not via ordinary means of travel.

He’d permit you to hop onto his back and slide your arms around his neck, taking you on a spin through the city, bringing you to the highest peaks, the pinnacles of human beauty through neon illuminations making the city sparkle like a sea of jewels. He’d feel his heart stutter as you shifted to get a closer look, your chin almost resting on his shoulder, cheeks just touching as you gasped, took in the scenery. In times like these, he was glad of the mask, of his ability to hide the effect you had on him, how you played his emotions like a string instrument.

“I’ve never seen the city like this before,” you told him, voice gentle at his ear, almost carried away by the wind. Miguel heard you. He strained his every spider sense to do so, no matter the conditions.

“Hobie hasn’t done this with you?” He tried not to let the hope in his tone show. You shrugged.

“He’s more of a stargazing kind of guy. Though, I’ll let you in on a secret,” your voice tailed off. Miguel leaned in. You whispered. “I think he just doesn’t want to go pivoting off buildings after a long day of already having done so.”

Miguel felt an idea spark in his brain. The start of a new ritual, routine, for just you and him. This would be for him what stargazing was to hobie – he’d bring you closer to the stars than Hobie ever could!

Whenever he’d return you home, whisking you through the midnight air, he’d place you at your door, imply what a good time he’d had. And, as always, you thanked him, eyes crinkling before parting with a hug.

Miguel would wait until you’d enter your apartment and locked the door behind you before leaving, and even then, he’d find himself perched atop a nearby building, waiting for something, anything to happen – for any opportunity wherein he could prove to you he was a hero. In times like these, he wished with a selfish heart that you lived in a more decrepit part of the city.

He realised how much he loved you – adored you – when you fell asleep in his arms after work one evening. He’d been carrying you to your room when you just nodded off. In his grasp, you were tiny, fragile. Weak. The responsibility of protection, the fierce need to watch over you, to possess you entirely, overcame him, overwhelmed every sensibility he’d cultivated throughout his life.

And so, he watched you. Eneamoured himself with your sleeping features, the trust you displayed to have fallen asleep on him. In his mind, this becomes a core memory. One which he turns into a joke between the two of you, his own fragment of sanctity – the beginnings of close friendship – one he’d use to build a statue like Hobie’s. A statue of you.

Hobie’s eyes narrowed. His nose wrinkled as his lips turned up in a half-sneer.

“You think the odd hug and a second of eye contact constitute as…what? A chance?” He scoffed. “A signifier that she feels for you more than she feels for the common man?” Incredulity danced in hobie’s eyes. Seethed from between his lips. The corner of his lips pulled back, revealed a smirk.

“Get over yourself, Mate. If she were interested, you’d know it by now.”

Of course, Hobie had his own collection of memories regarding you, his own wardrobe of moments sewn together with the thread of mirth to wear and fashion whenever and however he so pleased. He would wear it out to parties, on the town, to the Spidey-Station (as he referred to it with you). Show Miguel that his bare-threaded ribbon was nothing compared to his tapestry.

You and Hobie would wander the city when it was late and dark and quiet, talking about anything and everything that crossed your minds, more often than not leading the two of you to howl with laughter, leaning against each other as tears flooded from your eyes. The story, regardless of how funny it had been, held no weight compared to the joy that sparked in Hobie’s chest whenever you touched, whenever you simply existed with him. Fireworks.

You got him in ways nobody else truly could.

Many times had he come to visit you, only to lay his head in your lap and tell you what was bothering him. Sometimes it was trivial, others it was not. And every time, you’d sit and listen, playing with his hair and the badges on his jacket. And, of course, Hobie did the same for you.

One evening, you’d come banging on Hobie’s door, voice distraught as you called for him. He practically tore the door off its hinges when he heard how distressed you were, and, when he saw you, his heart tore. Your face was tear-streaked and your posture gave the impression of anguish, immortal and unrelenting.

“Hobie,” you cried. “Am–” your sniffing diced your words like meat in a kitchen. “Am I pretty?!”

Hobie blinked, unsure if he’d heard the question. And when he didn’t respond, you wailed.

Hobie knew what this was, for you’d spoken about it at length many times before. Insecurity was a powerful tool, especially when fuelled with sleep-deprivation and alcohol, one which Hobie wished he could destroy. But, while he couldn’t do that yet, he reached for you and took you in his arms. And as you cried into his shoulder, he told you how beautiful you were, how surprised he was that he was able to get a look in with you at all with how many men were chasing after you. And when you tried to say that no such thing had ever happened, he pulled back, gave you a smile, the visage of mischief.

“That’s ‘cause I scared ‘em all away!”

Your veneer cracked, and a laugh sprung from the concrete, the beginnings of life in an apocalypse. What Hobie wanted to say, though, what he nearly said, was everything he felt for you – how no word in the human vernacular could ever even begin to comprehend or compare how ethereal you were to him, how widely his love for you encompassed his very being, everything he said, did and wanted dictated entirely by the thought of you.

He opened his mouth, holding you close again. He could say it all now, while you were drunk – pretend it never happened if the exchange turned sour. But he knew he couldn’t live with your rejection, even if you’d have no memory of it.

He closed his mouth, swallowed the confession that teetered on his tongue like a pill. Consumed his contemplation, obscuring his feelings from you for just a little longer. While he couldn’t say it – not yet – he pulled you closer still, chest-to-chest, one hand at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist. A lover’s lock. And he held you. Tightly.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in every universe, (Y/N). I should know.” he murmured. He felt you nestle into him. You’d heard him. He sighed. “I just wished you could see it, too.”

Both men viewed the other as possessing some unattainable advantage, the beginnings of a fabled proverb blatant in their desire to attain what they thought the other had. What they were both striving for.

You.

For Hobie, the very thing he had prided himself on was his self-believed downfall. Friendship. The two of you had been friends for years, basked in a platonic limelight. Initially, Hobie hadn't needed to worry about how you viewed him, but as he fell deeper and deeper in love with you the longer he knew you, the fact that you’d maintained such a close friendship with him without once giving the indication of romanticism frightened him.

Miguel had only waltzed into your life a few months ago. You didn’t have to see him in a platonic light, didn’t have to bear witness to his deepest faults or his subtlest of quirks. Quite simply, you didn’t know enough about him for his mystique to be shattered.

On the contrary, Miguel saw how close you and Hobie were, how, without saying a word, the two of you knew what the other was thinking. He found your incessant asking of “Do you think Hobie would like this?” when visiting a store to be intimidating. He wondered if you asked the same when you went out with Hobie. If he was the subject of your concern as your best friend often was.

Whereas Hobie knew your every thought and desire, Miguel knew he clutched at straws by comparison, drinking in every detail you afforded him, taking nothing for granted. He’d bring you gifts, stories, regalements from his time out in the field, and his chest would swell whenever you watched him with wide eyes. He hoped, with every fibre of his being, that your astonishment was confined to him and him alone. He prayed that your years of friendship to Hobie was enough to dull any excitement you may feel when he told you similar tales.

This war was simply beginning, no two ways about it. And as they surveyed each other, Hobie and Miguel, weighing up the other’s pull on you, their minds conjoined to speak once and for the last time.

“May the best man win.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

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ominoose · 2 months

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𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐀𝐬 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

Characters: Steven Grant, Nathan Bateman, Llewyn Davis, Jake Lockley, Blue Jones Summary: Oscar Characters characters teaching subjects at school. Warnings: None WC: 1.7k

𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁 - 𝗛𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

His natural passion and accidental ability to hyper-fixate on things means he can teach all the required topics with ridiculous detail, but we all know which subject he dominates best.

The vast majority of the students adore him. Mr Grant’s lessons are always fun, he lets the class make posters (that include all nine members of the Ennead), do Kahoot quizzes, create live re-enactments of historical events. Even when he’s just talking off a power point, his voice, mannerisms and tendency to act things out has the children engrossed and giggling.

The classroom walls are absolutely littered with posters, some bought and some done by students. There's inspiring quotes, positivity kittens and Egyptian puns.

Not only is he a good teacher, but a good mentor. Being autistic himself, he notices any neurodivergent or “othered” kids and makes it a point to find what they’re passionate about and working it into their curriculum. If someones struggling he’ll arrange one-on-one time, asking them what they’re strengths are not just to help figure out how to work with them, but to remind them they have strengths.

While most students do love him, the few troublemakers know he’s not the strictest and thus will absolutely take the piss. Feigning ignorance and struggles as an excuse to why they missed a deadline or didn’t do the homework. Steven, the optimist he is, is always happy to give second, third and fourth chances. It does take that long for him to realise they’re not genuine, and yet he’ll still try, convincing himself that he’ll be able to turn them straight with the magic of friendship.

𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗕𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻 - 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗦𝗰𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲

It would be like finding a needle in a haystack trying to find a single student in the many years Nathan had been teaching that didn’t, at least at one point, absolutely despise him. Mr Bateman was far from the friendliest, lax teacher to his students, bordering on a bit of an asshole really. He had an absolute zero tolerance policy for time wasting, messing around and not giving 100%. All students were expected to keep up, get the work done on time and spend time studying and completing exercises at home. If you didn’t do that, you weren’t trying hard enough.

The common conception of a hard-ass wasn’t ill fitting, but it wasn’t without reason. Mr Bateman was a hard-ass because he wanted his students to grasp every opportunity at their disposal and stretch their potential. Some people were born smarter, some learned quicker from a young age but every single person could better themselves regardless of whether they started at Level 10 or Level 0.

It also shouldn’t be said that he wanted students that simply obeyed. It was a story passed down to students about the time a student, in a fit of frustration and defiance to the teacher that always pushed them, completely disregarded the set code structure and wrote their own entirely new one that completed the aim function. While everyone would expect them to be given weeks worth of detention and a reaming, but Mr Bateman simply smiled, said well done and moved on with the lesson. Apparently the kid managed to get a full paid scholarship into top university, but that was just hearsay. Rumour has it his middle name is Hamlet too, snickering students will whisper.

Besides his rigid teaching style, not much is known about him. The classroom is minimalist, only a coffee flask and a pot of three black ballpoints sit on his desk. The walls are sparse beyond a handful of posters about common coding knowledge.

𝗟𝗹𝗲𝘄𝘆𝗻 𝗗𝗮𝘃𝗶𝘀 - 𝗠𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰

The beginning of every new school year followed the same routine. Kids would hear their music teacher was a published artist, get insanely excited, go to class then realise published was not synonymous with success and wither with disappointment. Mr Davis gave up caring years ago, at least he finally had a steady gig, albeit at the cost of his soul.

Classes were average. Sometimes students were treated to his natural singing voice, something that always sparked smiles and attention from the kids, but usually lessons were Llewyn bearing through kids bashing piano keys and drum pads as he wandered around and did his best to tutor them through it.

To kids that were required to take the class, it was alright. Mr Davis wasn’t a hard ass, although it did drain his soul to see kids blind to the brilliance and potential of music. His homework mostly consisted of practicing at home or listening to different genres. To kids that genuinely enjoyed music, it was bliss. Mr Davis was no dream mentor for sure, he was quite stubborn about what he thought “good music” sounded like, but when he sat with someone he could share the passion with, the kid would feel like an equal.

The classroom was always open to kids that wanted time to practice, he knew what an escape music could be, and would never hesitate to sit and work out a song or even add his guitar to whatever a student was playing.

The room was a riot on a good day. All sorts of instruments littered and surrounded the desks, posters of musicians and notes and the different types of brass instruments lined the walls and there was always something playing in the background. A basket of fruit and cereal bars was always sat fully stocked next to the door, with a “Help Yourself” sign stuck to it. No one knew why, and no one ever thought to question it.

𝗝𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘆 - 𝗦𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵

Spanish was always a full class, no matter what year or whether the students actually cared about Spanish. Students either swooned over him or wanted to be his friend. Mr Lockley knew, although had no clue why, but who cares as long as he was able to spread some Spanish around. The point is, Mr Lockley had no enemies at school.

Like a typical Spanish teacher, the register was taken in Spanish, if you wanted to ask to go to the toilet it had to be Spanish and if you wanted to pass notes in class they had better be in Spanish. He wasn’t the most forgiving, the man expected homework to be in on time and god help you if it was google translate. Mr Lockley would call you out, make you re-do it in his class at lunch or give detention to repeat offenders.

If students had been doing reasonably well he’d bring in some traditional Latin American foods for students to try, turn on a Spanish movie or even treat them to a little story about his past. Remember the Chef in Ratatouille that killed a guy with one thumb? That's the type of nonsense he talked about, albeit a bit more kid friendly. Most of the stories were embellished tales of him saving a grannies purse from being stolen, but some students always wondered about that hardened, broody looking teacher.

Mr Lockley prefers to keep his help to class time, long past learning his lesson about the very obvious students that came to him giggling and blushing behind their hands. On a rare occasion however, he will accept a student that comes knocking, overly apologetic and pleading for just a little help on their assignment, especially if the student is a quiet one. His lunch is set aside and he gestures for the student to take a seat before going over it with them, helping them with pronunciation, never shaming them or getting annoyed if they make a basic mistake. At the end he’ll even teach them how to say shit in Spanish, if they can keep it a little secret.

The classroom has posters of different Latin American countries, verbs and nouns, the different gendered terms. His desk was a little cluttered, a ‘Mejor Profesor’ mug, papers half marked and some drawings done by students hung nearby.

𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗝𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 - 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘆

No one's favourite teacher but everyone knew him and had something to say. If a student had him later in the day they’d need to pray the morning classes were well behaved or pray they knew someone in said classes that could give a heads up on his moods. It didn’t matter either way, you could walk in one him sucking on his lower lip and glaring the entire class down and walk away with him smiling and patting backs. It was every student for themselves in that class. The only consistency was the white lab coat he wore.

There were obvious favourites, usually people who found a good balance of kissing his ass but not too overtly, asking for help while still expressing basic knowledge. If you asked too many questions, he would openly sigh or ignore you for someone else. If you gave an answer he thought was stupid, he wouldn’t hide the hands raking over his face in annoyance. If you were quiet and kept to yourself, you’d skirt by okay until one day in the middle of a lesson he calls your name with a faux chirp, predatory smile and ask a question. Answer correctly and you can rest assured he'll (probably) leave you alone for the next few lessons, answer wrong and enjoy doing exam questions as practice.

Detention for even a hint of a Breaking Bad reference. Openly hated a student named Jessie. Weirdly, students notice it's not the chemistry part that annoys him, it's the inaccurate portrayal of drug transactions and the costs. No one has dared ask why he knows so much about that.

Mr Jones’ door is usually locked at lunch and after class, he'll blatantly ignore any student that knocks and continue eating. On the stray chance a rare student manages to find him outside the class and has the balls to stop him, with his trademark sigh he'll begrudgingly set up a day and time to help them. It'll be a one-on-one session filled with eyerolls and being talked down to, but you'll get lots of extra knowledge and he'll even throw some of his old textbooks at you for free. Weirdly, he won't bother you in class anymore, just giving you a little smile out the corner of his eye.

The classroom has old periodic table posters from the teacher that retired years before him, and classroom rules about remembering to wear goggles or you'll go blind. The only thing on his desk besides several piles of paper is teacher mugs with variations of chemistry puns he pretends to hate.

#steven grant #nathan bateman #llewyn davis #jake lockley #blue jones #omiwrites

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shadow1515 · 4 days

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Too Sweet

Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)

You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for.

Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.

Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.

You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead.

One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you.

Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion.

Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.

“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?

You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you.

“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”

The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying.

You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?

The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue.

“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.

At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”

Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?

“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.

The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”

You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything.

The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this.

Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.

“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”

“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.”

You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could.

The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”

“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”

A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.

Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it.

The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.”

At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face.

Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves.

A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”

His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again.

“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”

Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face.

The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you.

“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”

His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately.

You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.

Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again.

Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.

You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.

“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”

You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.

“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.

The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.

“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.”

His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault.

The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”

So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin.

“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable.

“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”

The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen.

In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips.

The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”

Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level.

You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–

A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses.

“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you.

“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?

Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing.

“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?”

He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.

The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”

Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”

Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper.

It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt.

“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace.

You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin.

You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him.

The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”

The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.

Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.

“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”

His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you.

The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”

Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out.

#dark!fic #shadow writes #fallout show #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #pls read the warnings #minors dni #also i am very scared to post this here...#so if it gets taken down at some point that's why #you can find it on ao3 tho

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 7 months

Text

The Art of Failing [1]

Werewolf!Joel Miller x F!Reader, Vampire!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Warnings: violence and mild gore, mentions of blood and injures, reader is described as active and able to fight, eventual smut, loss of a child, angst to fluff, more warnings to come based on individual chapters

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, self doubt, mentions of blood

Word Count: 10,360

Summary: The Division of Mythological Affairs was created to protect and serve the supernatural community while keeping the knowledge of their existence a secret. You hoped to become an Agent of the DMA like your mother before you. Just as your dream begins to fall apart at the seams, you stumble across a missing persons report that could change everything. You are desperate to solve the case, to prove your ability, and you find yourself with unlikely allies⏤ a werewolf running from his pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. The stakes are high, lives are at risk, and success hinges on the three of you learning to work together.

[a/n: it's here!! i'm so excited to officially share this because it was so much fun to write and i'm even more excited to show y'all the rest]

MIDDAY MADNESS

"failure does not mean your life is over."

Every workplace had that one employee who was deemed irreplaceable.

The employee who showed up early, went the extra mile, and made the lives of those around them easier. The one who had a passion for their work⏤ who was born to do what they do with a smile on their face. You were that employee. Without you, everything would collapse into chaos and madness. Mayhem would fill your 8-storied workplace to the brim until it was spilling out into the unsuspecting streets of Austin, Texas. Riots would break out. Fire would engulf the city. The world would never know peace. Without you⏤

“Hey, coffee girl!” The sharp, angry voice startled you and the precariously stacked drinks in your hands nearly toppled over. You readjusted your hold on the carriers with a breathy sigh. “Where the hell is my cappuccino?”

Perhaps calling yourself the most irreplaceable employee here was a bit of a stretch. You were important though. Your job was vital. If it weren’t for you then your co-workers would be caffeine deprived which would lead to headaches which would then lead to mistakes and errors in paperwork which would, eventually and inevitably, lead to worldwide destruction somewhere down the line. You were needed here. You were vital and a necessity. At least, that’s what you told yourself over and over in the form of a mental mantra. It was either that or get caught in the abysmal, black hole your life seemed to be right now.

“Here you go, sir.” You angled the carrier so he could scoop up the cup on the far left. The man yanked his cup away hastily, nearly knocking over the other drinks again, and rushed away without even so much as a ‘thank you’. You pressed your lips together in annoyance.

You were vital. You were vital. You were vital.

With a brief pause to piece your patience back together, you pasted on a broad smile and began to continue your morning deliveries. For two years, you had been taking coffee and lunch orders, scheduling meetings, running errands, and doing basically every other busy work task put on your plate. It was exhausting, both mentally and emotionally, but it was the price to pay. You wouldn't take this kind of treatment anywhere else and the only reason you still put up with it was because it was just a stepping stone.

Today you were a glorified assistant.

Tomorrow you would be an Agent.

An Agent of the Division of Mythological Affairs.

It was a title not many held and was exclusive for a number of reasons. The DMA was established decades ago to police and protect the supernatural community. It was the responsibility and duty of the DMA to keep the peace amongst the community while also keeping said community secret from the rest of humanity. Knowing that the monsters of myth and legend were real was privileged information. The only reason you were clued in was because of your mother. She had been an Agent herself years ago and you grew up surrounded by supernatural forces. Hell, your childhood best friend was a forest nymph.

As you grew older, you grew more passionate about the world you were blessed to know and the dream to walk in your mother’s footsteps took root. You trained and you studied, desperate to make the world a better place, and thus far all you had succeeded in was mastering the skill of carrying four drink carriers without dropping them.

After delivering the final cup of coffee, you made your way up to the eighth floor. There was about fifteen minutes before you had to get down to the lobby for your next task of the day, and you planned to spend it begging. You greeted familiar faces as you passed them. The separation of labor could be seen in the change of clothes as you got to the higher floors. Everyone you passed now were dressed in nice and expensive suits. It was the upper levels that housed the policy makers⏤ more politician than soldier.

The eighth floor was the nicest of them all with open windows that let in natural light. There were no ugly cubicles littering the bulk of it. Instead, modern and sleek furniture sat around the space and private offices were housed here.

“Hey, have you seen Captain Roberts?” You asked Stacey, one of the secretaries you saw in meetings every once in a while, and she didn’t even lift her eyes up from the magazine she was flipping through. She just pointed to the right towards a hall of offices. You mumbled a thanks and continued on. There were a few different Captains who worked in this sector of the DMA, but Captain Roberts was in charge of the Agents and Analysts you worked with most often.

You were halfway down the hall when an unfamiliar, armored figure stepped out of the conference room to leave. Mandalorian. Your pace stuttered in shock as you stared wide eyed at the intimidating man stalking toward you. There were too many vampire covens to count, but a few were infamous enough to merit memorizing.

The Mandalorians were one of them.

Their signature being the impenetrable armor they wore at all times⏤ faces they never revealed to anyone. It wasn’t unusual to see a Mandalorian or two wandering around the building. They occasionally worked contracts with the DMA picking up on bounties. Not all DMA sanctioned bounty hunters were Mandalorian, but the best undoubtedly were. You didn’t recognize this one though.

His all silver armor was haunting and his gait spoke to strength and skill. He was close enough now that you could see your wide, staring eyes in the reflection of his visor, and you forced yourself to snap your gaze to the floor as you passed. The air was tense around him, it followed him like a dark cloud, and his heavy boots stormed past you without pause. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder to watch him a second more. His worn out cloak whipped around him at the pace he marched out with and a few suited men practically leapt out of his way to avoid being in his path.

You let out a low whistle and turned back towards the conference room he had just left. Being on the radar of a Mandalorian had to be a fate worse than death, and you pitied whoever had pissed off that one. Outside the conference room door, you adjusted your work blazer and took a steadying breath. You were vital, this organization was lucky to have you, and you would be an Agent if it were the last thing you did. You rapped your knuckles against the door and waited until a deep voice called out for you to enter.

Inside the room were three others. They sat at an elongated conference table centered in the room with their backs to Austin street views out the floor to ceiling windows. On the wall across from the windows were large screens designed for calls and it looked like one had just ended. Of the three people in the room, you only recognized one. Captain Roberts, a gruff man in his late sixties, stood at the head of the table with a few folders and papers spread out in front of him. He was built like a grizzly bear and had the temperament of one as well. The red of his beard was graying and you still hadn’t gotten used to his bald head quite yet. He used to have hair thick and long enough to braid, but when his hair started to recede he chose instead to just lose it all.

“If that’s all, I have other matters to attend to.” Captain Roberts cleared his throat and motioned toward you. It was a dismissal on his part, and you stepped closer while the two other suited individuals packed up their belongings to leave. The second they were out of sight, Roberts groaned. “Perfect timing, kid. I hate dealing with Olympus representatives.”

Your jaw fell open and you pointed to the door, “Those were…” You had never met the souls responsible for carrying the messages and words of the gods and goddesses back down to Earth. “Really?”

“Try not to look so excited. The gods are dicks and they live to make my job more difficult.”

“You say that about everybody.” You replied and wandered over to stand by him. Your eyes darted down to the papers scattered on the table. It looked like a missing person report. “I saw a Mandalorian in here earlier.” The report looked like it was talking about a child. You narrowed your eyes and pulled it closer. The Mandalorian was reporting his own missing child. A young boy who had disappeared overnight. “Why were you meeting with a Mandalorian and Olympus representatives over a missing kid?”

Roberts snatched away the reports to tuck them into a folder with a chastising glare. “I didn’t. I was meeting with the representatives when the Mandalorian burst in. Kind of like you did.”

“You were happy with my interruption a few seconds ago.” You argued. Roberts gave you a tired glare, and you nodded toward the folders in his hands. “You know I was talking to Hannah downstairs a few days ago and she was telling me that the number of missing kids has skyrocketed this last month in comparison to previous months.”

Roberts grunted, “What have I told you about being nosy?”

“Maybe I could help.” You offered. “I could⏤” Roberts scoffed out your name with a shake of his head and made a beeline for the door. You scrambled after him. “Roberts, come on. Please.”

“You came all this way up to beg me about a missing persons case?”

“Well, I actually came to beg you about applying for the Agent qualifications exam, but I’m not picky about what I beg for. I’ll take what I can get.”

“No.”

“Roberts⏤”

“I said, no.”

You locked your jaw in annoyance as you both climbed into the elevator. In order to sign up for the qualifications exam you needed the approval of a Captain. It seemed no matter how many times you begged Roberts to write you the letter of recommendation allowing you to sit for the test, he always had some excuse to say no. Any Captain’s letter would do the job and you could technically find another to badger about this, but you were the stubborn kind. Captain Roberts had been the one to qualify your mother, and you wanted him to be the one to qualify you too.

“If you just gave me a chance,” You snapped, “I could do it.”

“We’re not getting into this again.”

“Give me a real reason then!”

Roberts glared at you with a look that would have anyone else cowering or running for the hills. You could see beyond the anger and frustration. Beyond the huff and glowering. Underneath all the rough Captain bravado was someone who cared, but right now it was infuriating. Roberts rubbed his bald head and shook it with disdain, “Your mother wouldn’t want you risking your life like she did.” It felt like your heart had stopped in your chest. Of all the excuses he had plied you with in the past this was the first time he used your mother as one. “She would want better for you.”

“Don’t.” You whispered.

“You’re a bright girl. You say the word and I can get you a job in research. You would be a hell of an Analyst⏤”

“I don’t want to be an Analyst! I want to be⏤”

The elevator doors dinged open and you both grew silent. A small group shuffled onto the elevator making small talk. You stood stiff and straight, arms crossed over your chest, while Roberts pouted on his side of the elevator as well. Three floors down and the group dispersed leaving you alone with the Captain once more.

“You can do better than this, kid.” Roberts said firmly. “You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“This. This is what I want for my life.” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again. You just stared at the numbers at the top of the elevator door, each lighting up as you got closer and closer to the ground floor. “I just wanna help people like mom did.”

“There are other ways to do that.”

The elevator reached the bottom floor and you finally turned to Roberts, “Are you going to approve me for the exam or not?”

Roberts held your gaze for a moment, sadness seeping into his blue eyes, and he sighed, “No. No, I’m not.”

You bobbed your head once, biting back the burning threat of tears prickling at your eyes, and you hurried out of the elevator. Roberts called out after you, making others near the elevator doors glance in your direction, but you didn’t pause in your stride.

There was a small cubicle, amongst a sea of others, down a hall connected from the lobby that you called your own. It was tiny, just big enough to house a computer and a bit of desk space for you to stack busy work all over, but it was yours. The cubicle wall was decorated with pictures of friends, family, and a spattering of Halloween decorations you had put up for the upcoming holiday.

You dropped into the seat, Roberts’ denial ringing in your ears, and your eyes landed on one photo in particular. It was your high school graduation and your mother had her arms wrapped around you proudly as you both beamed at the camera. The sight of it made your stomach turn and without thought you tugged it off the wall where it hung to stick in a drawer. Your mother was a hero who changed so many lives, and you could only wonder what she would think if you now⏤ sitting at a cubicle buried in busy work and covered in coffee stains.

You had buried yourself in errands and paperwork to distract from the bitter rejection of Captain Roberts. The small voice at the back of your mind whispered that all you had to do was seek out a separate Captain for your letter of recommendation. You knew for a fact that the Captain who worked the neighboring district handed out letters like candy. They had the mindset that the test would weed out the ones who didn’t deserve to be there, and you were confident you could pass. It was a quick and easy solution, but it felt too much like cheating in your eyes.

A part of you wished you could kick your pride to the curb. A dream was a dream, right? It didn’t matter how you got there as long as you got there. You blew out an irritated breath of air and leaned back in your seat to stretch your spine. No matter how many times you repeated those words in your head they didn’t seem to stick.

“Hey, pumpkin.” A voice drawled from behind you, and the condescending tone of it immediately made your blood pressure rise. Slowly, you turned in your seat to face the bane of your existence. Agent Miles Jackson was average in height but constantly acted as if he were compensating for something or another. You assumed it was his lack of a bearable personality. The weight of his stare gave his brown eyes a beady quality and his thin lipped smile could only be described as smarmy. He winked at you and the urge to gouge his eyes out washed over you. “What’re you doing here?”

You furrowed your brow, “Working. I know that’s an unfamiliar concept to you.”

“Ha ha. Funny.” Miles snorted. “I meant, why the hell are you still here and not picking up my lunch?” You opened your mouth to complain, but he cut in. “I want my usual from that sandwich place right down the road. The faster the better.”

“Miles⏤”

The man turned on his heel and began to march away before letting you say another word. You glared at his back where his light blue, wrinkled button up shirt was untucked from his one size too small dress pants. You just wanted to throw something at the back of his head. With a huff, you pushed to stand and grabbed your purse from the drawer under your desk. Between the morning you had and dealing with Miles, you were seriously going to need a drink tonight.

It took no time at all to pick up the food. You called ahead on your walk, and the workers there knew you fairly well as a regular. When you got back to the building there was a commotion in the lobby. More people than normal were milling about and a steady flow of people were streaming out of the first floor bullpen⏤ the exact place you were heading. You slipped through the crowd and as you got closer and closer to where Miles’ desk was the noise began to increase.

“⏤'nd you’re not fuckin’ listenin’ to me!”

The words reverberated into the hall stopping you dead in your tracks. Calling it a yell would be underselling the wall of sound that slammed into you. It was a roar⏤ earth shattering, enraged, and excruciating. You rushed into the bullpen, hand clutched tight to the to-go bag of food, and gazed over a sea of desks. The bullpen was where most Agents worked day to day. Usually, the routine tasks involved speaking to concerned citizens or interviewing suspects. A good bulk of the work involved filing reports when not out on the streets working on a case. However, the room was nearly empty and continued to get even emptier as people rushed past you. At the center, with the agent you were looking for, was a man you didn’t recognize.

He was gruff with broad shoulders covered in a worn out flannel. A peppering of gray littered the thick, dark hair atop his head and even spilled into the scruff on his face. The clear details that could be seen from a mile away was the redness in his face, the vein protruding along his neck as he yelled, and the rage simmering in his dark eyes. His anger was volatile and palpable. Your focus seemed to zoom in on the flash of pain, and once you saw it… it was all you could see. This was a man suffering. Amongst all that rage was heart wrenching fear and agony.

“Sir⏤”

“Don’ you fuckin’ ‘sir’ me.” The man snapped and shoved at Agent Jackson. “You son of a bitch, listen⏤”

Miles pointed in his face and the man snarled in response. “Don’t you take a tone with me. Do you know who I am?!” You got closer and you could see the man’s canines lengthen and his brown eyes flickered in shades of a burning gold. Wolf. He was a werewolf. Genetically speaking, there were hundreds of lineages from the initial werewolf. Unlike vampires, who were similar regardless of the coven, wolves differed. Based on what you could see here, this guy was probably from a local pack. The ones around here didn’t necessarily need the full moon and their emotions controlled a lot of their abilities. Miles ran a hand through his hair with a huff, “Now, Mr. Miller, we have your statement. If you’ll be patient with us⏤”

“Are you fuckin' kiddin' me right now with this bullshit!?”

You weren’t sure how this guy got stuck talking to the least empathetic and least helpful Agent in the entire building, but your heart went out to him. While Miles rattled off a long winded excuse, you crept forward to set the food on his desk and your eyes landed on an open report. The wolf’s name was Joel Miller, and as your eyes scanned the page you understood his rage.

“Your daughter is missing?” You gasped. Both men snapped their gazes at you. Miles glared at your intrusion, but Joel’s narrowed eyes held more questioning than rage toward you. You picked up the report to read the details, but all you could think of were the other missing children cases⏤ the Mandalorian this morning and his missing child. The report in your hand was poorly written which you expected of Miles. “When did you last see⏤”

“I already took his statement.” Miles snapped at you.

Joel, on the other hand, pointed his finger at the file with a glare, “Does it not say it in there??” Sensing the tension, you were hesitant to nod your head. Joel filled in the blanks though and snarled at Miles. “You fuckin' bastard. Are you not takin' this seriously!? She's a kid! She's only fourteen! I swear to the Gods, I’ll⏤”

“I assure you that we have what we need.” Miles snatched the report from your hands. “You’ll have to excuse my assistant. She isn’t trained." You sucked in a sharp breath, your own rage beginning to bubble up, at his words. As if you needed extensive training to read a piece of paper. “Pumpkin, you’re excused.”

“I’m not your assistant.” You spat at him. “Have you considered the other missing kids?”

Joel’s eyes widened, “'Scuse me?”

Miles scoffed and shook his head to glare at you, “That has nothing to do with⏤”

“And there was a Mandalorian here this morning whose kid disappeared overnight.”

Miles chuckled and the sound pissed you off further. It had the same effect on Joel Miller who looked close to shifting into his wolf form to leap across the desk and maul the man. Miles motioned toward you, “Well, that’s it then. Mandalorian.” You furrowed your brow. “I would bet my money on this being a blood feud. Wolves vs fangs.”

You shook your head, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“The wolves took the vampire kid, and in retaliation the vampires took the wolf’s kid.” Miles argued confidently. He turned to Joel and gave a slight shrug while scooping up the bag of food you had brought for him. “We will look into the matters, and we will call you with further information.”

“That’s it? You’ll call me?” Joel yelled. The wolf slapped the bag of food out of Miles’ hand and to the ground. “My daughter is fuckin' missin' 'nd that’s all you’re gonna give me right now!?”

Miles slammed his hand against his desk while staring at his lost meal. His glare toward the wolf deepened, a move you found to be hilarious considering Miles was far from intimidating, but you watched as his hand went to his hip where his service weapon rested. Your eyes widened and you set a hand on Miles’ chest to draw his attention to you.

“Stop.” You warned. “That’s a bad idea.” Miles locked his jaw and you tried to defuse the situation. “This isn’t right. Your theory is wrong. A wolf pack would never use a kid as a bargaining token in some rivalry.” You scoffed. “And the Mandalorians are the only vampire coven to allow children in their ranks. They literally adopt kids off the street to raise and care for. But you think they kidnapped a wolf’s child?”

Miles suddenly grabbed you by the arm roughly and squeezed hard enough to make you wince. The sound of a low warning growl filled the air, but all your attention was focused on the loathing rage in Miles’ eyes. He seemed… unhinged, somehow. With his other hand, Miles pointed a finger in your face. “Listen to me, pumpkin.” He snapped. “You need to stop playing ‘Agent’. You’re a bookish errand girl who has no idea what she’s talking about or trying to get involved in.” His words stung even more with Captain’s Roberts’ rejection still ringing fresh in your mind. “It’s pathetic how desperate you are to be an agent like your mommy. Especially considering, you’ll never be what she was. You’ll never be more than the useless, desperate⏤”

Your hand curled into a fist and lashed out before you had even a second to think. Miles’ nose crunched under your now throbbing knuckles and blood splattered down his blue shirt. He cried out in pain and you stiffened in realization at what you had done. “You bitch! I’ll get you fired for this!”

Angry, embarrassed, and frustrated, you spun on your heel to rush away. Miles was still hollering behind you in a rage and before leaving the room you gave one last glance over your shoulder. The goal was to glare at Miles or admire the new shape of his nose, but as if pulled by an unseen force your gaze landed directly on Joel. Once you made eye contact with the wolf, there was no looking away. There was a haunting power in the way he stared back and it seemed to singe a hole through your very being, and you could feel his agony⏤ his devastation and desperation. The embarrassment you felt grew as you realized you were useless to him. Just like Miles said. You mouthed a quick apology and left in a hurry.

Downtown Austin had a district for the supernatural. Not that any human knew that it was for the supernatural specifically. With the right words, a person could find themselves in underground Austin where a market and community lay hidden. As you saw no reason to sit around and wait for the consequences of your actions to find you, you climbed into your car to drive across the city to see a friend. Once parked, it took no time at all to find your favorite bar. It was one owned by a witch and open to any and all who were interested.

Despite being underground, ‘Lucille's’ did not feel closed off or stuffy. The ceiling was high, a spell cast to mimic the natural lighting for the time of day, and the walls and furniture were decorated in greenery making the room feel like a clearing in a forest. Usually when you were here it was late evening or night time so the bar would be lit accordingly, but as it was literally 2 in the afternoon it was pure midday sunlight that shone down on you.

The bar wasn’t empty. A number of patrons sat around enjoying a casual lunch or drink, but you weaved through the tables to make your way to the actual bar. It was made of thick mahogany wood and glass. Behind the bar, the shelf was lined with liquors and raw materials. Jars filled with dragon scales, phoenix feathers, wormwood, and any other ingredient that could be used for spells or drinks. There was a glow from behind the shelf itself that shifted in a swirling of soft colors.

As you sat down on a cushioned bar stool, you saw a familiar forest nymph walking out of the back carrying a box. Her pale green skin was accented by a darker, vine like pattern that encircled her limbs and torso⏤ made even more clear to see due to the loose, white tank top she wore. Her vibrant pink hair was pulled back into two buns atop her head and littered with yellow and blue flowers. She dropped the box with a grunt and her brown eyes landed on you in shock.

“Whoa! What’re you doing here??”

“Hey, Nima.”

“You here for lunch?”

“Not exactly.” You gave her a tight lipped smile as she bounced over with a bright grin. She stood close enough that you could see the slight movements of the vine-like pattern on her skin and it must have been close enough for her to see the misery in your features. Before she could begin her interrogation, you lifted your dominant hand to nod toward your bruised knuckles. “Can I have an ice pack?”

Nima wrapped a handful of ice in a rag for you to set on your hand and listened quietly as you told her about your day from start to finish.

“First off, I’m making you a stiff drink.” Nima grabbed a glass and she knew your preferences enough that you didn’t need to say a word. “Secondly, after you down this we’re getting in my car and we’re gonna go kill Agent ‘Shit for Brains’.” Your lips twitched up in amusement. “Thirdly⏤”

“How many bullet points are in this pep talk?” You asked. “Just so I can keep track.”

“You would make a gods damn brilliant Agent.” Nima paused in drink making to point at you. “I don’t care what anyone else says.” She shook the metal tumbler three times before pouring the drink in the martini glass. The light pink liquid bubbled and fizzed. She set it in front of you and you raised an eyebrow at the glittering light that shimmered from the bubbles that popped in it. Nima shrugged, “So, I added a joy charm to your drink. Sue me.”

The corner of your lip twitched up and you didn’t hesitate to bring the drink to your lips. The fizzing bubbles of the joy charm tickled your mouth and it reminded you of eating pop rocks as a kid. Unlike the pop rocks, it left an immediate light hearted buzz in your brain that made the glow of the lights around you seem a little bit brighter. Coming here had been the right decision. Between the drinks and Nima’s threats against Miles’ life you were feeling a bit better.

Nima stayed with you chatting for a while longer, but when a group of elves noisily wandered in she had to veer away to serve them. You finished the last of your drink, pushed the glass aside, and then folded your arms to lean on the bar with a hum. The joy charm left your brain with the happy buzz, but your heart still felt heavy. All you wanted to do in life was help others, like your mom had, and now you were going to get fired. You couldn’t even provide support for the people who were helping others.

So much for being vital.

You absentmindedly began to count the bottles on the expansive shelf in hopes to keep your mind occupied until Nima could come back and distract you. It was around 116 that you felt somebody sit on the stool right beside you. Any annoyance you felt at a stranger picking a seat so close to you when there were so many other open stools was muted by the effects of the joy charm. You continued to count and at 200 the stranger said your name.

Eyes wide, you turn your head and the sight of Joel Miller’s glare you jumped in surprise, “Gods!” You were sitting up now, half hanging off your stool, while gripping the edge of the bartop. “What are you… How do you know my name??”

“I asked 'round.” Joel replied gruffly. Unsure of what to say, you bobbed your head awkwardly. He had his arm resting on the bar as he faced you, and his hand was balled up in a tight fist. The wolf was wound up tight⏤ ready to snap at the slightest provocation. “Now tell me more 'bout the Mandalorian.”

You scrunched your nose, still in disbelief that this wolf followed you in the first place, “Um, DMA restricts me from giving out the information of someone else. I’m not really supposed to do it without going through the proper channels.”

“Yeah, well, you don’ really got a job anymore, far as I can tell.”

“I still have a job. I haven’t been fired.” You countered with a nod then mumbled. “Yet.”

Joel leaned in closer and you stiffened at his growl, “You think my Ellie missin' has somethin' to do with the Mandalorian?”

You assumed that was the name of his daughter. “I can’t say anything for certain. I mean, I don’t know anything⏤”

“You knew more than that bonehead Agent.”

“That’s not hard.” You mumbled with a quiet snort. Joel did not seem amused and continued to burn through you with his gaze. You cleared your throat and nodded. “All I know is the number of missing persons cases involving children has been higher this last month than usual, and some Mandalorian is missing his own kid.” Joel gave a slight nod and you could see the wheels turning in his head. You shrugged, “But I don’t think it’s the feud between wolves and vampires doing this. I know that’s what Miles assumed but… I just have this weird feeling that⏤ that something else is going on.”

Joel clenched his jaw before speaking, “Why?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, defeated. “I don’t have evidence or a good reason. It’s just a... gut instinct.”

You squirmed under Joel’s continued gaze until he finally looked away. He turned in his seat to face forward and now you were the one staring. With how tense the wolf was, he looked to be made of stone. A handsome statue wearing a scowl that could fill even the gods with a chill.

Nima bounced back over and gave Joel a skeptical glance. She raised an eyebrow at you in question and you waved your hand in front of your neck to signal her to leave him alone. Nima scooped up your empty glass and carried it away.

“Where is he?”

Your head snapped back to Joel, eyes wide, “Sorry?”

“Where is the Mandalorian?” Joel demanded slowly. “I wanna talk to 'im.”

“I⏤I have no idea, man.” A laugh of disbelief left your lips. “The local Mandalorian coven is a mystery. They’re more tight lipped than any other coven I’ve heard about. Only a few people even know where they hide.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s all you got for me?”

You scoffed, “I’m sorry. If I had known you were going to stalk me out of the building⏤” Joel rolled his eyes with a huff. “⏤then I would’ve prepared accordingly. My bad.”

Joel hissed a curse under his breath. His eyes closed and a hand rubbed his jawline before resting over his mouth⏤ attempting to settle himself, you assumed. You glanced over at Nima who was staring at you in concern and you gave her a quick nod and pointed to the wolf beside you. A few moments later, Nima came over and placed a glass of dark liquor in front of you. She mouthed the words, ‘You good?’, and you gave her a tight lipped smile. She shot Joel another wary glance before moving over to her other customers.

You cleared your throat and pushed the drink in Joel’s direction. He opened his eyes and stared down at the drink. Joel sniffed the air then furrowed his brow, “That’s Lavagulin.” You shrugged. That sounded right, but you didn’t know the dark liquor types well enough to confirm it. His gaze turned skeptical and paranoid, “How do you know my drink of choice?”

“Oh, I don’t.” You held your hands in surrender. “Nima does.” You pointed to the forest nymph who was flipped a tumbler with a broad grin. “I don’t know how she does it, but she can guess anybody’s drink of choice. I’ve never seen her fail.” Joel stared for a second more before picking up the drink and taking a long sip of it. You rubbed the back of your neck nervously. “Listen, I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. I wish I could help.”

Joel didn’t respond to your comfort and just continued to drink. You briefly considered calling Captain Roberts. Miles had probably already gone to the man to snitch on you for breaking his nose. There was no way you wouldn’t get canned for the attack, even the Captain couldn’t protect you from that, but somebody should know that Miles was out of line with a citizen. Joel Miller needed real help to find his daughter, and gods knew that Agent Miles Jackson wasn’t going to be of any use. As the thought crossed your mind, you tilted your head. Help. Joel needed help.

“I could help.” You blurted out loud.

“What?” Joel was nearly finished with his drink.

“I could help!” You repeated. Why hadn’t you thought about this before? Joel needed help, and you needed to prove that this was a job you were more than capable of. “My mom was an Agent⏤ one of the best. She had all these connections and…” Joel was now facing you entirely as he had turned in his seat. For the first time since you met him, you saw more than just anger, panic, and pain in his eyes. There was a flicker of hope. You shot him a smile. “I think I can find out where the Mandalorian coven is.”

Joel leaned forward on his seat, “Where?”

“We need to go to my apartment. There’s a journal with a map.” You jumped up and began to root through your bag for your wallet.

“What’s going on?” Nima came back over. “You leaving?”

“Yeah, it’s a⏤ it’s a long story.”

“Everything alright though?”

You huffed when you couldn’t find your wallet, “What? Yeah, no. It’s fine. Just give me a second. I think my wallet is buried under here somewhere.”

Nima shook her head with a frown, “I’m not taking your money.”

“What’re you talking about?” You demanded.

“You don’t have a job. I’m not taking your money, babe.” You winced at her half true comment. The DMA didn’t pay you all that great anyways considering your position wasn’t super high on the career ladder. But then again, if you solved this case and proved your worth then you could be the Agent you knew you were capable of being. Suddenly, Joel held out a few folded bills. Your eyes widened, but Nima snatched the money from his hands with a smirk. “You on the other hand, I can very much take money from.”

Joel ushered you out of the bar as Nima waved after you and demanded you call her later. The wolf said he’d follow behind you in his own truck which you figured he wouldn’t have a problem with considering he had done it once before. You just prayed the plan you had in mind was actually going to pan out.

If you had known you’d have a near feral werewolf sitting in your living room this afternoon, you would’ve cleaned up a little better before leaving in the morning. You scrambled through your room searching for the journal that you knew was somewhere around here.

“You got it, yet?” Joel barked from the other room.

“Almost! Just⏤ Just hang on!”

Finally, you found the journal buried under a stack of papers on your desk. You mumbled your relief and immediately began to flip through the journal pages searching for something that could point you in the direction of the Mandalorians. You knew for a fact that your mother had a connection⏤ either directly or indirectly. You managed to find the vague map scribbled out midway through the journal. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had ten minutes ago. You took a quick picture of it with your phone and began to leave your room only to pause. Frozen in place, your eyes darted over to your bedside drawer. After a second of contemplation, you hurried over and pulled out the handgun tucked away for safekeeping. The only ammunition you had was regular bullets and silver ones. Neither would help against a vampire, especially a Mandalorian vampire decked out in ceremonial armor, but the idea of having it on you brought some semblance of comfort. You tugged on your shoulder holster and triple checked the weapon before safely tucking it in place. The last two things you grabbed before leaving your room was a jacket to wear over the holster, keeping it mostly hidden, and your mother’s old badge.

When you stepped out into the living room, Joel was standing and staring at a few pictures on your wall. His eyebrows were drawn together, deep in thought, as his attention was focused in on a picture of you and your mother from when you were a child.

You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped back to you. You opened your mouth to explain the picture, but Joel closed the space between the two of you back on target, “Where is it? The coven?”

“Here.” You opened your phone to point to the picture you had taken.

Joel narrowed his eyes, “That’s all you got? You don’ got an address or somethin'?”

“An address?” You scoffed. “They live underground in the middle of nowhere. Sorry I don’t have a PO box to type into google for you. We can find it with this. Let’s go⏤”

“We??”

You set your hands on your hips with narrowed eyes, “Yeah, we.”

“You’re not goin'.”

“I’m not letting you and your pack stampede into a vampire coven!”

“I don’ have a pack.” Joel shook his head, and you tried to hide your surprise. “I work better alone. Now give me the map.”

“Fine,” You corrected, “I’m not letting a lone werewolf storm a vampire coven.”

“And how is addin' a human to the mix gonna tip the odds in my favor, sweetheart?” Joel scoffed and motioned to you.

“For one, they won’t kill me on sight for being a werewolf.” You argued. “And two,” You pulled the badge out of your pocket and flashed it to him, “I’m an impartial party. A peacekeeper.”

Joel snarled, “If they do have my kid for some reason, I don’ plan on keepin' the peace.”

“Yeah, see, that sentence proved my point. You need me.”

Joel opened his mouth to argue more, and you were fully prepared to counter anything he threw your way, but then he surprised you by locking his jaw and giving you a stiff nod. You hadn’t actually expected that to work. Joel turned to leave your apartment with a grunt and you hurried after him.

“Also, we’re taking my car.”

After another short lived argument, you managed to wrestle Joel into your vehicle. According to the map, the coven was just outside Austin city limits, truly in the middle of nowhere, and it would take at least an hour to get in the vicinity. Then you’d have to search for it further. The drive was just as awkward as you would’ve guessed it to be. Joel didn't seem like the type of man who enjoyed small talk even on a good day let alone right now. Unfortunately, the more nervous you got the more you seemed to want to talk.

“So, can I ask you something?” You blurted.

“No.”

“Oh.”

An even more tense silence filled the air between the two of you as you focused on the road ahead. Joel sighed and shook his head, “What?”

“You said you don’t have a pack.” You continued on with your line of questioning despite the lackluster permission he gave.

“Is there a question somewhere in there?”

“Is it true?” You asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a werewolf without a pack.”

“Well, now you have. Congrats.” Joel replied dryly.

Your cellphone began to vibrate and the name ‘Captain Roberts’ flashed on the screen. You ignored the call, “So, it’s just you and your family then?”

“It’s me 'nd Ellie. That’s it.” Joel grunted. He shrugged after a beat, “Got a brother too but he’s still in the pack. Tried to leave when I did, but I convinced him not to.”

“Oh, so you left on your own.” You voiced the thought aloud. Your phone began to vibrate again. ‘Captain Roberts’. Ignore. “Why…” You were very, very curious as to why a werewolf would willingly leave his pack to be on his own⏤ or on his own with his daughter, you should say. But, it seemed too personal for you to pry into. “What’s Ellie like?”

Joel paused in thought. “She’s smart, but she’s also trouble. Bit of a little shit.” There was a small smile on his face as he said the words. “Obsessed with these stupid jokes 'nd puns.”

“She sounds fun.” You chuckled. “You said she was fourteen?” Joel nodded once. For the third time, your phone began to vibrate and you hit the ignore button with more force than needed. “What⏤”

“You ain't gonna answer that?” Joel questioned.

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s just gonna be a long conversation about disappointment and it’ll probably end in my termination. Roberts, the Captain, likes me, but Miles⏤ the Agent whose nose I broke⏤ he’s kind of a big deal.”

Joel scoffed, “He’s a big deal?”

“Not in a ‘good at his job’ way. More in a ‘my daddy owns you’ kind of way.”

“Got it.”

“Yeah, when he said he was gonna get me fired he meant it.” You sighed. “It’s all about knowing the right people, and he’s related to the right people so it’s even worse.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“You’re telling me.” You mumbled with a sigh. This time there was a notification about a voicemail being left along with the missed calls. That was not a message you were eager to listen to. The rest of the drive passed in silence, but it wasn’t as tense as the start of the trip. You drove your car off road where the map suggested. The map had a shaded portion where the coven supposedly was, and you prayed they hadn’t recently moved. You drove, scanning for some kind of the symbol drawn on the map, and when Joel spotted it carved into a tree you parked the car. “So, you’re not going to like what I’m going to say…”

“Then don’ say it.”

“I think you should stay with the car.” You said it anyways.

Joel stared at you as if you had grown a second head, “Are you outta your gods damned mind? I’m not sittin' here 'nd waitin'⏤”

“If it’s me alone I can talk to them as an Agent of the DMA and question⏤”

“You’re not an Agent.”

“I’m also not a werewolf.” You snapped. Joel had his jaw locked so tight that you could hear him grinding his teeth against one another. You held a hand out towards him to plead your case. “I’m not gonna say that I get it because I don’t have a kid. I could never fully understand how you feel right now, but… Joel, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you find Ellie. If we go in together it’ll stir them up, but maybe if I’m alone they’ll stay calm enough to answer some questions. I’m not a threat to them. I’m just a dumb human, after all.”

Joel turned away and rubbed his face. The exhaustion and frustration were clear to see. He sighed, “Fine. You have twenty minutes. Twenty minutes 'nd then I’m goin' after you whether you like it or not.”

“Deal.” You agreed.

You reached over him, he stiffened at the closeness, but you mumbled an apology and rooted through your glove compartment. There was a small, travel bottle of perfume that Nima had tucked away for you. It was one you never used, a bit too strong for your liking, but she was adamant about keeping it around in case of emergent night outs when you needed to get ready on the go. There was a collection of hair products and makeup tucked somewhere in your back seat too.

After finding it, you opened the car door and began to spray it all over yourself. It took only two squirts of the bottle when Joel began to cough. He rubbed his nose with a deep frown, “What the fuck are you doin'?”

“I’m trying to get the smell of wolf off of me.”

“You’re ruinin' your scent.” Joel grumbled with no further elaboration. You sprayed yourself three more times just to be sure, and ended up hacking up a long yourself as the strong floral scent hit you like a truck. Joel chuckled, “See?”

“Here’s to hoping the Mandalorians hate how I smell too. I’ll be right back.”

You closed the driver’s side door and marched out to walk past the tree with the carving. Joel called out after you, and when you glanced over your shoulder you saw he had rolled the window down. Joel nodded once, “Careful, sweetheart.”

With a reassuring smile, you gave him a thumbs up that he shook his head at before rolling the window back up. Your reassuring smile falter once you faced away from him and you steeled your nerves as you pressed into the thick of the trees. You could do this. You could handle this. You were vital.

The goal was to follow the trail of carved symbols in the trees. It drove you deeper into the forest and after finding four more you noticed that the path had looped you into a circle so you were back in front of symbol three. Worry briefly flooded your senses as you thought you may have taken a wrong turn and time was ticking down. Joel would be kicking down your car door to come find you and gods knew with the amount of perfume you wore it wouldn’t be hard.

You blew out an annoyed breath and kept on, but you only got a few feet further when a figure suddenly loomed in front of you.

“Gods!” You cried and scrambled back a few steps. The Mandalorian in front of you was towering in height and immensely broad. He wore navy pieces of armor, and you couldn’t fathom how someone so large and dressed in so much metal could be so loud. He stood still, like a statue, and his blank helmet stared down at you. Quickly, you readjusted your stance and cleared your throat. With as much confidence as you could muster, you pulled out the badge and flashed it at him⏤ introducing yourself as an Agent with your last name. “I’m with the DMA, and I’d like you to take me to your leader.” You winced as the words came out awkward. “I mean, I’d like to speak with someone on a missing persons case. I believe it would be in the benefit of your coven. Is there someone in charge I can speak to?”

The Mandalorian said nothing and you tucked your badge back into your pocket. You weighed the pros and cons of opening your mouth again, but before you could come to a conclusion he held his hand out toward you. Hesitantly, you reached out and the second your fingers brushed against his the Mandalorian tugged you toward himself and threw you over his shoulder. A cry of disdain left your lips but the world became a sudden blur of color and sound as wind whipped past you and with a few blinks you were no longer in the forest. He dropped you with no announcement and you grunted as you hit the cold, stone floor.

“Thanks for the warning.” You scoffed and tried to get your bearings. Nausea rolled through you and the room felt like it was spinning. When your brain finally caught up to what had happened, you glanced around to see he had carried you into a cavern. Light spilled from overhead, like a spotlight, and with a glance up you realized he had dropped down into this cave system.

“Come.” The Mandalorian grunted and you struggled to your feet to follow him.

As he led you deeper into the cave, the walls were lit with torches. Doorways into other halls and rooms were carved into the wall, but this Mandalorian led you straight down the center. Other Mandalorians like him began to gather and peer out of the spaces to stare at you and it took all of your might to keep your shoulders straight and your chin held high.

At the end of the cavern, was a circular room that was taller than it was wide. A stone structure was built in the center of the room and the shape and fire burning at it’s center reminded you of an old timey forge where weapons used to be made. The navy Mandalorian you had been following barked out in a different language⏤ Mando’a if you remembered correctly⏤ and a different Mandalorian with a helmet of gold stepped out from a back doorway into the room. The shape of her armor seemed more feminine and around her waist hung a thick metal hammer.

“You are not the Agent described to me.” She said in a smooth and calm voice.

“Sorry?” You replied confused.

She repeated your last name. “You are not her.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh. Oh! Right, no. Um, you’re thinking of my mother. You knew her?”

“Very well.” The Mandalorian confirmed. Two other Mandalorians stepped into the circular room just to stand against the wall with the large navy one, and it made your skin crawl nervously. It seemed like overkill. Just one Mandalorian could demolish you. You didn’t understand why they needed a total of four with you. “Why are you here, young one?”

You nodded, back to business, “This morning I saw a Mandalorian at the DMA headquarters. He was filing a report on a missing child. He was⏤ His armor was all silver. Like a shiny silver, and his under suit looked brown?” You tried to recall any details you remembered of him, but it was really the bright shine to his armor that stayed in your mind. “Anyways, we’ve had a string of missing children and I wanted to speak to this Mandalorian⏤”

The three Mandalorians behind you barked out a word you didn’t recognize and you jumped in place. The leader hummed, “He is no Mandalorian.”

“Uh,” You squinted with a twist of your lips, “He looked very Mandalorian⏤”

They barked the same word again. She spoke once more, “Din Djarin.”

“What?”

“That is the man you seek.” She said. “He has broken his creed. He is Mandalorian no longer. We do not associate with him.” You scrunched your nose in disbelief. Of all the rotten luck. You manage to actually find the mysterious Mandalorian coven only to find out that the one Mandalorian you sought out was excommunicated from his coven. Great. “Is that all you have come for?”

“Technically, yes.” You replied slowly. “Unless, do you know anything about his kid? Or where I can find him?”

“No.” She answered simply and bluntly. Fantastic. Outside the room, you could hear hissed whispers and low growls. Two sounds you never considered good news. “Are you prepared to pay your price?”

You focused back on her, “The price for what?”

“For your life.”

At those three words, you felt your blood run cold. Nowhere in your mom’s journal did it mention any sort of price. The noises outside grew louder and one of the angry growls was unfortunately familiar. You cursed under your breath and turned just in time for two Mandalorians to drag in a thrashing Joel. They forced him to his knees with a hiss. One gloved hand clamped around the back of his neck and you saw Joel’s teeth lengthen as the color of his eyes began to flicker in shade.

“Joel.” You blurted and his eyes lifted to meet yours. You gave a discreet shake of your head, and the burning gold of his eyes returned to a warm brown.

“Your twenty minutes was up.” He grunted.

“Young one.” You spun in place and the leader of the Mandalorians was dangerously close. You tried to take a step back, but her hand wrapped around your throat. Joel snarled for her to let you go, and you held up a hand behind you in hopes to reassure him. Her hand wasn’t restricting your air. It just rested there. A vague threat. “Will you pay your price?”

You swallowed, unable to see a situation where denying her ended well for either of you, “Yes?”

The leader used the hand around your throat to tilt your head up and to the side, exposing your neck, and then she moved quicker than you could see. Her other arm was a blur and you felt a sting of pain against your neck. The room’s air seemed to thicken with tension as she held up a blade smeared with your blood. She released you and began to stalk toward the forge. You rubbed at your neck nervously. You weren’t bleeding out, but it shook you to your core all the same. The leader whispered in Mando’a before flicking beads of your bright red blood into the fire at the forge’s center. The blue flames flashed white before returning to their natural state.

She turned and tucked the knife away. “You have paid your price. Paz will take you above ground.” She nodded to the navy Mandalorian that had brought you in. “The wolf stays.”

“Wait, no⏤” You began.

“He will die for trespassing.”

“Hang on!” You scooted away from Paz. “Can’t he pay the price? Or can I pay for him?” Somehow, through a helmet, the leader managed to shoot you a dry look. That’s how you interpreted it, at least. Paz was stalking toward you as Joel thrashed in the arms of the Mandalorians and your mind raced for a plan. Just as he reached out to grab you, you blurted, “Riddur!”

The room froze and even Joel paused in his rage to stare at you. The leader titled her head. You pointed back to Joel, “He is my riddur.”

“You know what that word means?” She questioned.

“Yes.” You nodded. The Mandalorians were the most family oriented of the vampire covens. The bond between lovers was sacred. ‘Riddur’ was translated to spouse, but it carried a heavier weight than the english word. They may have hated wolves, but you prayed to the gods that they respected the bond enough to let it carry over outside the coven. “Please. Don’t do this.”

There was an agonizing pause where you could feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest. The leader gave a curt nod and you breathed a sigh of relief. “You may take your riddur and leave.” The Mandalorians released Joel and stepped back. You hurried over to his side to loop an arm through his. “But, young one?” You stared at the leader and the gaze she cast your way was nerve wracking. “Do not come here again. The price to pay next time will be steep.”

You nodded and mumbled a thanks before dragging Joel out the way you had come in. All the Mandalorians in the cave continued to stare. Joel kept pace with you and whispered, “Ellie? Did you find the Mandalorian we were lookin' for?”

“No. He’s not here. He was kicked out of his coven.” You replied. “We have to look elsewhere.”

Joel spat a curse out under his breath, but thankfully he continued to rush out with you rather than turn back. As you reached the spot where you entered you suddenly remembered that it hadn’t been you who came in. You stared up at the hole in the ground and sighed, “Joel⏤”

“Hold on.” Joel scooped you up and jumped. You yelped in surprise at the height he managed. It cleared the hold and he landed on the ground by the edge. At the landing, you heard his knees crack and Joel grumbled in annoyance before setting you down. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” You replied.

The two of you sped through the forest and didn’t slow your pace until your car was in sight. Joel glanced your way, “Riddur.” He repeated the word. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, uh, it means spouse?” You offered. “In the werewolf setting I suppose the closer term would be ‘mate’? It’s a bond between lovers.” Joel raised an eyebrow and you felt your cheeks grow warm. “I just knew that Mandalorians took that kind of thing seriously. It was the only idea I had to get us out of there.”

He stared for a long moment, long enough to make you nervously rub the back of your neck, and then he nodded, “Thanks for that. I… I appreciate your help.” Joel grunted uncomfortably. Your lips twitched up into a smile. The two of you reached the car and climbed in. Before you could start it up, Joel cleared his throat. “It was 'cause of Ellie.”

“What?”

“Earlier. I know you wanted to ask why I left my pack. It was for Ellie.” Joel responded. “She… We’re not related by blood. She’s actually… Ellie is only half wolf.” Your eyes widened in surprise, but you stayed silent so he could continue. “My pack didn’ want half breeds. That’s where they drew the line.” Joel sunk in his seat and rubbed his jaw⏤ a nervous tick of his you were realizing. “But she’s my daughter. They didn’ get that so I left.”

You pressed your lips together and started to reach out to touch his shoulder, but at last minute you dropped your hand and shot him a smile. “Thank you for telling me. We are going to find her.” You shrugged. “We need some other way to find the ex-Mandalorian, but we have a name now and I… I‘ll think of something. I swear it, Joel. I’m not gonna rest until we find her, okay?”

“Yeah, alright, sweetheart.” He replied. You started the car and began to turn it around when Joel let out a cough. “You smell awful, by the way.”

“Thank you for that. Appreciate it very much.”

Come hell or high water, you were going to find Din Djarin. As you drove, a few ideas came to mind. Terrible, terrible ideas, but beggars can’t be choosers at the end of the day. You shot Joel another glance out of the corner of your eye and your resolve steeled. This was more than just about redeeming yourself and getting your job back. You were going to find Ellie for Joel even if it killed you.

For notifs on updates, as I no longer do taglists, please follow @theidiotupdates

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#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #din djarin x female reader #pedro pascal characters #the mandalorian fanfiction #werewolf!joel miller #vampire!din djarin

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whatshername86 · 2 years

Text

The Protector

Summary: Natasha x Reader are in a relationship. But Natasha starts to pull away. Flirting with another team member. She crosses a line and loses the reader. When the reader returns, will Natasha get a second chance? Or is it too little too late?

(Word Count 7122)

(Warning: Bad Writing)

Have you ever felt the urge to just stay in bed?

Felt like the alternative is just too daunting to even conceive…

That is how Y/N has felt for the last six months.

Not to say that Y/N’s life was perfect before.

But these last six months just doesn’t seem to be worth it.

Two years ago, this was a different story.

Y/N had started dating the one and only Natasha Romanoff.

Everything was going great.

The both of you planned cute little dates in secluded locations, met for lunches and coffee breaks, planned outings around each other’s schedules, prepared for missions together, and trained together. Most importantly you both were there for each other.

Y/N was warned by her co-workers not to get involved with the Avenger.

That she was cold.

That she had something already going with a teammate.

Back then Y/N didn’t listen.

How could Y/N turn Natasha away, when she asked Y/N to dinner one stormy afternoon? Those green eyes shining with mischief and anxiety while she awaited Y/N’s answer.

Natasha told y/n from the very beginning that she wasn’t interested in anyone else. That there were rumors about her because she is constantly surrounded by Alpha Males. It was always misconstrued that she must be dating one of them. That the public saw a story of the all-American hero’s getting the girl.

Y/N believed her.

Why wouldn’t she. That was then…

However, Y/N started to see a different side to Natasha when Y/N got transferred to the Avenger’s strike team. Y/N relocated from her regular S.H.I.E.L.D. extraction group that she led.

That was a little over eight months ago.

Y/N thought the transition would bring Natasha and her closer.

Y/N was born with the ability to create a physical shield around herself and others. It also made her skin impenetrable.

The mutation made Y/N one of the original candidates for the Avengers. The offer was declined because Y/N didn’t want to be in the spotlight.

Over the years Y/N had worked with the Avengers in small doses prior to the transfer. There wasn’t a lot of one-on-one interaction.

What Y/N did notice was…They always had this aura though. Y/N couldn’t pinpoint what it was until it was too late.

…

THEY WERE ALL ASSHOLES!

Well not counting Tony.

Clint was always to over involved in Y/N’s relationship. Y/N let it pass because that was Nat’s best friend. But it’s gotten to the point that he acts like he has a right to feel threatened. Like he is the only one allowed to be so close to her.

Y/N and Wanda never really disliked each other but they didn’t go out of each other’s way to hang out.

Vision followed Wanda’s lead. Enough said.

Bruce was constantly sending longing glances Natasha’s way and glares over to Y/N. What really took the cake was last night.

Bucky & Sam were always flirting openly with Natasha. Something that she didn’t discourage.

Telling Y/N that it was all harmless.

Steve by far is the worst.

Apparently before we started dating Natasha had been fairly close to Steve. The group thought the two were dating type close. He automatically had it out for Y/N. He had even said point blank to Y/N’s face ‘Why would she choose you?’

Steve really can’t let anything, or anyone go.

Tony was a delight. Y/N and Tony felt like two outsiders. Always called into action and expected to perform perfectly. If there is some sort of silver lining from this whole experience, it’s Y/N’s friendship with Tony Stark.

Natasha well… Y/N had never been so disappointed in her life.

Once Y/N was transferred, she found herself on missions at an alarming rate. It seemed that once she returned, she was being called right back out. These types of missions weren’t even her specialty. There was no real reason for her to go. Other than the fact that Steve kept assigning them to her.

Y/N could deal with the lack of sleep, the beaten down body and the snide remarks from the Avengers as long as Natasha was there upon her return.

Nevertheless, after two months of the same routine, Y/N had noticed Natasha pulling away. It was little things at first. Then came the missed dates. The empty bed. Natasha hasn’t touched Y/N in six months. Not even a friendly pat on the shoulder.

What does Natasha do you may ask?

Well…

She sleeps in her own room now, she stopped sitting next to Y/N during meals, no more training sessions, no more cuddles, no more love…

Instead, she seems to be giving that all away to Steve.

It all reached its boiling point last night.

“Y/N had just walked out of the med bay after Banner refused her treatment.

Y/N might have bullet proof skin. But her body can still break down when exhaustion hits. Bones can still crack.

Banner didn’t even have the time to look up from his ipad. Upon entering the exam room, he stated that he couldn’t help Y/N. That she should just go to bed.

After that Y/N stumbled out of med bay.

Y/N was already fuming when she entered the lounge area on her way back to her room.

Y/N paused when she, heard laughing. A breathy laugh that Y/N would recognize anywhere. The flirty laugh that Y/N thought was only reserved for her.

But here she was in the shadows.

Natasha on the couch with Steve, her giggling while he was planting small kisses on Nat’s neck.

Y/N would like to say that she was surprised by this turn of events but that would be a lie. She wasn’t stupid. She had noticed the two getting closer.

Y/N put on her best resting Bitch-Face before clearing her throat.

‘Is this what you’ve been doing while I’ve been away this whole time?’

The two Avengers nearly snap their own necks with how fast they turned their heads. Natasha’s face had turned pale. She slowly extracts herself from Steve’s arms as she stands.

Y/N holds up her hand to stop whatever excuse is about to leave Natasha’s mouth. ‘I don’t want to hear it. I tried to be patient with you and everyone here’

Y/N shakes her head. Giving Steve and then Nat a pointed look before stating ‘You’re just not worth the effort any longer.’

Natasha started saying something. Y/N could no longer hear any of the words coming out of Nat’s mouth. She no longer cares, and her heart is pounding so loudly in her ears. Whatever love she had for Nat is completely gone. Honestly it started diminishing when Natasha started turning a blind eye to the behavior of the team towards Y/N. Along with her encouraging whatever relationship Steve and her had going on.

Y/N turns around and starts heading out of the room. But before she clears the doorway Y/N looks back at Natasha.

‘If it wasn’t clear before.’

Gesturing between the two of them while standing a crossed from each other.

‘We’re done.’

And with that Y/N left the red head. She can still hear Natasha calling out to her. But she is just too tired to care.”

After last night Y/N knows that she can no longer stay here.

Y/N had been planning on transferring for a while. But had held off because of her relationship.

That doesn’t mean she didn’t start gathering intel and making plans for herself.

With a little help from Tony and Friday, Y/N was able to gather enough evidence.

Y/N gets to leave the Avengers with a giant F U.

And with that Y/N starts her day with a little smile.

She has a room to pack.

Three Days Later – Avenger’s Compound

Tony is sitting at the head of the table as the rest of the team trickles in. On his left side are two lawyers and on his right side is Fury. Hill is standing not too far away but still off to the side just behind Fury. A few agents are hanging around outside of the room and security has moved closer to the conference room as a precaution.

He knows that this is going to be an unpleasant meeting for most of the group. But it isn’t undeserving.

Still a little too late, truth be told.

What they put Y/N through was uncalled for. Professionalism was out the window. He was sorry to see her go but he couldn’t really blame her for leaving.

This team had become toxic and entitled.

This event may be the change that is needed to wake everyone up.

The spider is the last to arrive. Slinking into her seat next to Barton and the furthest away from Steve.

Possible trouble in those still waters.

…

Tony is just here for the show and tell portion of the meeting.

The real performers will be the two lawyers and Fury.

Rogers sits straight on the opposite end of the table. Flanked by Barnes and Wilson.

Everyone is looking around the room.

Most likely wondering why we have two newcomers.

They don’t have to wait long when… Fury raps his knuckles on the table to gain everyone’s attention. ‘Before I begin Mr. Burnes and Mrs. White have a few things to hand out to a few members. Without further ado we should begin with Mrs. White.’ With a lift of the chin Fury directs his attention to the female lawyer.

The middle-aged attorney introduces herself as a representative of the Board of Medicine for the State of New York. She grabs a stack of papers and sets them in front of Banner before beginning.

‘Mr. Banner it has come to our attention that you have withheld care from a patient, this is in direct violation of your Hippocratic Oath that you vowed upon completion of becoming an active medical physician.’

‘Due to your neglect a patient was not diagnosed. And could have been suffering grave injuries.’ She pauses briefly before proceeding, ‘Furthermore, I am here to inform you that an investigation is pending to review your actions.’

Nobody in the room dared to interrupt the woman while she spoke. Tony could see a lot of confusion on the faces of the team.

They didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

It’s a shame that everyone was so self-involved to have not realized a teammate was in pain and hurt on multiple occasions.

‘While we gather our evidence for the case, I am officially serving you with documentation stating that until our investigation reaches a not guilty verdict you are hereby suspended from practicing medicine in the state of New York.’

‘If you are found guilty. Then your license to practice will be revoke’

Bruce has turned slightly green in the face. Fury and Hill moved their hands under their coats most likely to grab some sort of tranquilizer gun.

Tony also started playing with his gauntlet.

Bruce looks up to Mrs. White with an unbelievable look on his face while he asks ‘Who exactly did I not diagnose?’

Mrs. White sends a shark like smile Banner’s way and says ‘Come now, Mister Banner. That will violate confidentiality and patient privilege.’

Mrs. White waves a hand at the documents in front of Banner, before continuing…

‘If this does go to trial then you will have a right to face your accuser.’

‘That now concludes our business regarding the Medical Board.’ She picks up her briefcase before nodding her head to Fury and her fellow attorney.

After a few silent moments for Brucey-Bear, he seems to have calm down from his near Hulk-Out. He still has a pale-green tint to his face though. But it doesn’t look like he’s about to erupt.

Fury points to attorney number two.

…

Now this will be Tony’s favorite.

A man in his late sixties stands.

‘Good Afternoon Avengers. I am Mr. Burnes’ he says as he moves around the table.

He’s moving counter clockwise and away from the team physically.

‘I am an Attorney working in the Human Resource and Legal Department of the Avenger Initiative.’

He raises the pitch of his voice before continuing. ‘Contrary to popular belief the Avengers are like any other employee or employer. You each receive a pay check, medical, retirement and a human resource packet upon joining the Initiative. In this packet Equal Rights of the Employees was a clear document that you all would have sign. Along with a professional conduct clause.’

‘Evidence has come to our department regarding a very serious matter.’ ‘Abuse of Power, misuse of one’s authority over others, hazing violation, harassment and lastly physical & verbal abuse.’

You could hear a pin drop in the conference room.

It took 30 seconds for the team to process what was just relayed before the explosions started.

After a few minutes. Tony looks down and notices that it’s been close to five minutes since the shouting started.

Steve leads the charge. Practically jumping over the table. ‘What evidence?’

‘This can’t be right.’

Mr. Burnes turned to Tony and motioned to the projector in the middle of the table.

‘Ladies and Gentleman. I typically wouldn’t play such evidence but I have gotten permission from the abusee. It has also been publicly shared within the S.H.I.E.L.D. agency since they took part in the investigation.’

‘Mind you this isn’t all the evidence, just a small taste’

And with that Tony hit the play button on his tablet.

‘What the videos showed was the complete disrespect Y/N had to endure while on the team.

Snide, petty remarks from Clint, Barnes and Wilson.

Wanda and Vision looking the other way when Y/N was getting harassed.

Y/N being clearly uncomfortable.

Steve assigning mission after mission. The dates displayed on each assignment. Clearly showing the none existent down time.

Bucky and Wilson sabotaging Y/N’s gear prior to missions.

Bruce ignoring Y/N groaning in pain when he was the mission’s doctor.

Natasha doesn’t say a word through all of the footage as she witnesses the treatment of Y/N. Looking the other way every time Y/N enters the room.

Natasha joking around with Bucky, Sam and Clint after they practically destroy Y/N verbally.

The final frame is a clip of Steve bragging to Bucky that he has kept Y/N away long enough now. That Natasha was his girl again or about to be. Practically tickled pink when describing the last couple of dates, he’s had with Natasha while Y/N had been gone.’

As the projector slides back into the table.

The room is completely silent.

Wanda and Vision have their heads down in shame.

Clint has locked his jaw, still gazing straight ahead.

Wilson and Barnes aren’t making eye contact with anyone else in the room

Steve’s face has turned bright red. From anger or embarrassment, Tony can’t tell.

Natasha looks sick.

Mr. Burnes explains to the rest of the team that these incidences are under investigation. Due to what his department has gathered so far, each member of the team is now under review.

Additional group class or reeducation for the team has been ordered. Possible lawsuits due to the violations could be a potential result. Burnes continues on and describes why each and every one of these actions is a violation of the Avengers code of conduct. Also, if pushed criminal charges could be brought against the team.

With that Burnes hits the bricks.

As the door closes behind Burnes. Fury throws a folder into the middle of the table.

‘Regrettably I’m to inform the group that Agent Y/N has resigned from the Avenger Initiative.’

‘Effective immediately’

He takes in the room.

‘It isn’t very surprising considering what was shown’

Fury turns his one eye to Steve and states ‘Rogers you are no longer team lead’

Steve stands up to argue. ‘This is my team. I have always led it...’

Fury cuts him off and glares him down

‘You can’t be trusted to lead a team any longer. What you did to Y/N violated the position that you were placed in. You could have gotten her killed countless times. The reason for your neglect and actions was to move in on her girlfriend.’

Fury sits down and leans back and states clearly

‘Your judgement is compromised. And since the lot of you can’t act like adults then I’ll treat you like the children that you are.’

‘A new field commander will be selected if necessary. Until then Agent Hill will now lead the team from command. All decisions regarding tactics and personnel will now be filtered through her, and her alone. Out on the field, Stark will take lead.’

‘S.H.I.E.L.D. will also be reviewing the team members for possible alternative placements.’

Fury and Hill share a look.

Hill continues on ‘The team is suspended while the pending review.’

‘Most likely you will all remain on the team’

She looks at the agents right outside the door ‘Y/N is very much a beloved agent. She saved a lot of agents over the years. The inner agency now knows what was done to her. So don’t expect a pleasant greeting.’

… ‘You are all dismissed’

With a flare Tony smoothly stands up and breezes out of the room. He makes a mental note to send a copy of the meeting to Y/N.

That should provide some entertainment.

A Few Days Later – At the Compound

Another lab day for Tony. These have been happening a lot recently. Being around the team has been intolerable.

Maybe a vacation is in order.

In the middle of tinkering with a new helmet prototype, Tony hears the lab doors open.

He finishes up before spinning around, having expected to see Vision. Tony nearly falls out of his chair when it’s Natasha standing in front of him.

She is wearing a hooded sweatshirt and pajama bottoms. Her hair is a mess and she has bags under her eyes. He is also pretty sure that she smells but has no urge to get any closer to her to verify that theory.

After a few awkward seconds Tony breaks the silence ‘What are you doing down here Romanoff?’

She shuffles around in place. Stuffing her hands in her hooded pockets before asking ‘Do you know where she is?’

Tony lets out a cruel laugh. ‘Of course, I do.’

‘I am her friend Afterall’

Natasha nods her head because she knows that it’s true. Tony was the only member of the team that gave you a chance. The only one that treated you decently.

While everyone else was either giving you a cold shoulder or going out of their way to make your life hard. Y/N had retreated to Tony’s lab for comfort. Comfort that Nat should have been providing.

Only if she wasn’t a coward.

She had fallen back into old habits. Bad habits.

You were just so giving with your love, time, and affection.

Natasha didn’t know how to accept such dedication.

When Y/N first joined the team, she had seen some of the looks you received, heard the comments and knew that Y/N was putting up with all of that in order to be closer to Natasha. Y/N was so patient with those around her. And none of them were deserving.

Natasha knew that you would have stuck it out.

But she’s a poison.

She needed to push you away, in order to save you from herself.

She looked the other way. She was distant, neglectful and just plain mean and uncaring in her outward appearance.

Natasha started flirting again in order to deliver the final push.

She never expected Steve to eat it up and run with it.

Looking back on it maybe she should have seen Steve for the man he truly was.

…

Years ago, he would stutter and turn red when she was flirting with him. No relationship ever came out of anything. The kiss at the mall while hiding from Hydra was the most physical intimate moment that they ever had together.

Imagine Natasha’s surprise that night in the lounge. It had started getting out of hand, slowly but steadily. She had of course noticed that Steve was eating up the attention. He would puff up every time Y/N would enter the room. Almost like he had won a prize. Natasha knew she should have cut it off a long time ago. Regret and Shame kept her going. In her head her actions just proved how toxic she was. And her intentions were true. She was saving Y/N after all.

That night she had just started to get uncomfortable and was about to shove off of the couch when Steve started kissing her on the neck. The only thing she could do was release a nervous giggle.

She should have known there was a line that had been crossed. A line that once crossed she couldn’t return from.

When she finally realized this, it had already been too late for Natasha.

Y/N had seen the position, and that was the end. With everything else going on, she could see the once love in Y/N’s eyes were no longer reflected towards her.

Natasha would never cheat. But what argument did she have with you.

She had been flirting for months. Allowed Steve to believe he could get that close. Allowed Steve to kiss her on the neck. Stopped sharing a space, left the room they had occupied. Changed her schedule in order to make it easier to avoid Y/N. Went out of her way to appear close with Steve. Allowed the others to put Y/N down, to abuse Y/N. Allowed the others the chance to get in-between their relationship.

And she did this in some misguided attempt to protect Y/N.

But none of it was worth losing you.

Now it’s too late. You had left. And you are in a better place for sure. Because any place has to be better for Y/N than here.

‘I just want to know that she is alright’

Tony studies her for a minute, before Natasha says ‘I don’t deserve to know where she is but I just want to know that she is alright, somewhere safe.’

Tony shakes his head ‘Why should I tell you anything Romanoff.’

‘You were the worst one out of everyone to Y/N.’

‘You were the one in a relationship with Y/N. Just to turn around and practically throw yourself at Rogers.’

Natasha starts to get teary eyed and says ‘Don’t you think I know that. I was doing it for her.’

‘BULL SHIT, Natasha. How was anything that you did for her’

He points a finger at Natasha and states ‘Everything that you did was for yourself!’

She backs up a few paces.

‘I didn’t deserve her and will never deserve her. The team didn’t deserve her.’

Turning to leave. Knowing Tony isn’t going to help her.

…

Tony yells out.

‘Have you ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?’

‘You need help Natasha. If you ever want to be ready for a love such as the one Y/N gave you. Then you need some professional help if you ever thought what you did was for her.’

She doesn’t have any response to that.

…

Five Years Later

Y/N wakes with a fist to the mouth.

Jolting further when the sun hits her face.

She forgot to close the blinds in her new room last night.

Looking down at her sleeping companion. She is still in awe at the sight.

Little Rye has been the light of her life since she laid eyes on the little brunette.

‘A year ago, Y/N was performing a search and siege of a known hostile human trafficking ring in Eastern Europe. The ring was working out of an old abandoned apartment building.

Once all of the combatants were taken down, y/n began to assess the victims.

The ring’s cycle for the children was to ship off the smaller ones to underground testing facilities or child predatory rings. The older children were being relocated to prostitution rings around the continent.

After transferring out of the Avengers, Y/N joined a collaborative cross agency endeavor. The group is made up of S.H.I.E.L.D., MI6, CIA, Military and other agencies. The purpose of the group is to investigate, track and eventually take down crime rings that cross between borders. The investigations usually center around drug & arms smuggling, human trafficking, child pornography rings, terroristic groups and other large-scale crime syndicates.

A broken-down apartment is where I met Rye. She was the baby of a teen prostitute that died in child birth. The leaders of the ring didn’t see the purpose of bringing in a doctor while the mother went through birthing her baby, and she soon bled out.

Little Rye was being cycled back into the dark and violent ring.

I had scooped the little squirming infant up into my arms as we were clearing out the building. She was just a few days old. Still alive against all odds. But she was so small and barely moved in Y/N’s arms.

When she opened her eyes and looked up at me that first night. I knew I was hooked.

I didn’t have the heart to pass her to another agent. I could never claim to have had a particularly Motherly instinct embedded in me.

But Rye shot me like a bolt of lightning when our eyes connected. A buried natural instinct to nurture and protect was awakened.

There was no way I could part with her.

I wanted to protect her, love her and watch her grow.

She became my world. And I became hers.

I made a vow to always put her first later that night.’

Which brings Y/N to her newest transfer.

It was a hard decision. Y/N loved her work with the collaboration teams. It was her place, she belonged there, and she was making a difference.

But with little Rye now being in her life, she couldn’t take the long hours and traveling away from home.

So, with a heavy heart Y/N started looking for employment elsewhere.

In the end Tony came through for her.

They had remained close even after Y/N left the Avengers. Y/N was even the godmother to Tony’s daughter Morgan.

Tony and Y/N had bonded further over the years over the mutual venting sessions about the Avengers.

Tony had provided updates over the years and a lot had changed with the Avengers since Y/N left.

Steve was no longer the team lead.

He could never shake the fact that he had risked Y/N’s life for his own selfish desires. The S.H.I.E.L.D. strike teams refused to work with the captain. The trust between the captain and agents had been burned one too many times. Leaving him with partaking in Avenger related, world ending missions only.

Bucky & Wilson were both selected to transition to support roles, search & rescue and the occasional raid. Working alongside STRIKE teams and law enforcement groups.

Clint went back into retirement.

Wanda & Vision hung around the Avengers lifestyle for a few more years but realized they wanted a steady home and peace.

Bruce was found guilty of patient neglect and his medical license to practice was revoked. He still remained on as a scientist. Research and development only. He is no longer allowed to work with or on humans in any medical capacity.

Natasha had taken Tony’s words to heart and went into therapy. She didn’t really go out on missions any longer unless absolutely necessary. She now dedicates her time with her sister and training the new generation of Avengers.

Tony had finally married Pepper and had a beautiful baby girl. It’s safe to say that his Avenging days are over. The public can still see him promoting the next generation. He has taken on a mentorship role within the group.

During Y/N’s job search Tony put a plan together to bring Y/N closer and provided a new alternative with a different technical related combat job.

He knew Y/N would work any job available but wouldn’t be happy with just a normal job. Still being heavily involved with the development of the New Avengers allowed him to create an opening that would fit Y/N’s skill set.

Mission Coordinator.

The job included all of the benefits of working normal office hours, and coordinating the execution phase of a mission. Making sure that all of the T’s are crossed before deployment.

It was a perfect fit for Y/N.

The only downside being that it required relocation to New York in order to work out of the compound.

And putting Y/N into direct contact with the original Avengers when the missions required their presence.

Y/N would be working along side Assistant Director Hill for the most part, presenting mission plans to the team during staging.

…

After years of reflection Y/N had come to the conclusion that the original Avengers were just a bunch of insecure and petty individuals.

Clint felt threated by Y/N’s role in Natasha’s life so he took it out on Y/N. He made it his mission to get between Y/N’s relationship by inserting himself in every aspect. The snide comments became harsher the longer the relationship lasted.

Wilson & Barnes were practically Rogers’ shadows & cheerleaders. Natasha being with Y/N had thrown a wrench in Steve’s ideology of him being right & good. And the good man always gets the girl. With that thinking Y/N must have been the problem that needed to go. Assaulting Y/N physically and verbally should have never been a step for either of them.

Bucky had been emotionally stunted for years as the Winter Soldier. He relied on Steve for guidance when it came to morality.

Sam had little excuse. He was once a counselor that fell into the trappings of the Legend of Captain America.

Bruce was longing for Natasha to be his. Y/N became an obstacle. He had no ground to stand on. Ignoring Y/N altogether was the solution in his mind.

Wanda & Vision didn’t want to make waves or be seen as going against the majority within the team.

Steve wanted Natasha no matter the cost. Selfishly putting others at risk.

Lastly, Natasha didn’t know what she wanted. Instead of ending things she chose to play a game.

Y/N would like to say that she is a forgiving person but in all actuality she’s not. The team never really gave her a chance and each of them contributed to a very dark spot in her life.

That’s not saying that Y/N isn’t going to be professional when at work. Just not friendly. She doesn’t plan on going out of her way to interact with any of them.

Today is Y/N’s first day in the office. She bought a house fairly close to Tony’s and the compound.

…

Rye was still getting used to the new environment so she has been extra clingy since the move.

She’ll be spending the day with Morgan & Pepper while Tony and Y/N go into the office for introductions.

Morgan and Pepper adore Rye. Relocating has provided Morgan with a playmate; she couldn’t be happier. Pepper and Tony still rotate SI duties so they alternate the care of Morgan between each other.

Rye should be comfortable with Pepper for the day. Morgan can provide additional distraction.

After getting Rye settled in with the Starks. Y/N & Tony arrive at the compound. Only a few key people knew that Y/N had taken the position and started today. The new lead of the Avengers Carol Danvers, Fury, Hill, Rhodes and the group of agents that will be working under Y/N are the only ones that had been informed of the new hire.

Y/N made Tony and Hill relay the history between Y/N and the old Avengers before taking the job. She didn’t want any surprises to arise later. Danvers was very understanding of the situation and stated that her leadership style was completely different. And the past conflict between Y/N and the original group wouldn’t become an issue.

The original members didn’t have an overwhelming role any longer. In the event that the original members still carried animosity towards Y/N then a different mission coordinator or member could be swapped.

As Y/N walks the halls of the new compound she doesn’t feel nostalgic like she thought she would. The compound is so different than it was before. The new design is more in line with a combat training academy than the Avenger’s only training facility and housing.

It had the feel of a learning campus verse a members’ only frat house.

New Job, New life…

Two Weeks Later – Avengers Compound

Yelena came crashing inside Natasha’s apartment with Fanny hot on her heals.

Natasha just sits back while the chaos factory whirls around the room.

It’s sisters’ night now that Yelena has returned from her mission after being away for a little more than three weeks. With a leash in one hand and a bag of food in the other Yelena finally spots Natasha with her book on the couch.

This is a new routine for Natasha.

Part of her therapy was finding closure with her past.

A large portion of her guilt centered around abandoning Yelena all those years ago when she defected to SHIELD. Leaving her behind.

It took some time but Yelena eventually forgave Natasha. Yelena still holds some insecurities. The cracks will always be there but at least those cracks have been patched.

Natasha over time changed her relationships.

She had gotten into the habit of relying on others for emotional direction. Clint was her compass since the very beginning. That granted Clint with a lot of longitude. It put a lot of pressure on Clint always trying to guide Natasha in his mind. When Natasha started relying on him less over the years, he became almost territorial, possessive of his role. Instead of being encouraging he would be unsupportive or indifferent. Laura and Natasha had to sit down with him and explain that boundaries needed to be set. But Clint would always have a special place in Natasha’s life. He would always be her best friend.

Tony and Natasha had become a little more friendly over the years but it never went anywhere beyond polite inquires or small talk.

Natasha refused to speak to Bruce for a long time. Him withholding treatment from Y/N just propelled Natasha into an ocean of guilt and anger at herself. How many times had Y/N been hurt and Natasha didn’t even notice? A spy didn’t notice when her girlfriend was in physical pain.

When she finally confronted Bruce regarding his failure to do his job. She found out that the core of the withholding of treatment was his feelings and hopefulness towards Natasha and his relationship progression.

Which is another thing Natasha blames herself for. She flirted with everyone on the team. With the exception of Vision. That was her MO. That was what was always expected of her. The famous Black Widow, sexy, alluring, flirty, she was every man’s fantasy. And sadly, she fell into her own hype, the myth of the Black Widow. People had expected these traits from her, and she met those expectations. She would flirt, touch, and wink at all of the men and women in the near vicinity. She played a points game in her head. 1 pt for a blush, 1 pt for a stutter, 2 pts for a nervous look around, 5 pts if they stumble away and 10 pts if they try to ask her out.

When she was in relationships, she would try to key it down, however that shadow of the widow persona was always there.

The trend though was when she started to get comfortable in a relationship then the flirt would come out to drive a wedge. Every time it was the same pattern.

This also caused issues with Barnes and Wilson. Both would eat up her attention. Both were natural flirts. Both felt more manly flirting with a pretty woman. Both didn’t know when to stop. And both were eventually set straight regarding there comments and behavior.

The sabotaging of gear in the past now requires each member to have special permission to enter the equipment room or armory.

What really cause a change in them both was relocation of each. Without Rogers to hide behind they both had to grow up.

Rogers…

Still tried to pursue a relationship with Natasha after Y/N left.

He just couldn’t understand that she didn’t want him. A hot-blooded, strong, attractive male.

It was the worse mistake of my life entrusting anything to Rogers. Without the leadership role in the Avengers. Steve attempted to lead a different group without much success. With Danvers we had a capable team lead and with-it Steve’s chance of returning to a lead position within the Avengers were crushed.

Natasha and Steve had an all-out fight after Y/N left once everything came to light. They had to be physically separated.

Steve originally tried to play that it was all taken out of context, but with all the mission logs as further evidence there wasn’t much weight to his argument.

Over the years Natasha has thought about reaching out to Y/N. To try and be at least a part of her life in some way and apologize for the mistakes that she had made in their relationship.

To at least explain.

They were friends and co-workers before becoming lovers. Natasha found relief in knowing that Y/N was doing well.

Y/N had found something deserving in Natasha years ago. It was Natasha that had proved that wrong with her actions. Who was she to question Y/N. Y/N was one of the most intelligent people that Natasha had ever known. Instead of voicing her doubts. Natasha actively found ways of pushing Y/N away. And because of this Natasha will always wonder what could have been.

What would have happened if she was brave? If she had set boundaries? If she stood up for Y/N? If she looked deeper? If she didn’t find a need to flirt? If she just let herself feel love and return that love without fear? If she let go of the fabrication of the Black Widow persona? If she didn’t take things too far?

What could have been between them?

Would they be retired, living in a home together? Would you had been married by now? Would you have been happy with Natasha? Would you and Yelena become friends?

If only…

What would have happened to the team? Would they have still took out there frustrations out on Y/N, if Natasha had put her foot down? Or would they have just circumvented Natasha in order to get too you?

Natasha hasn’t been able to completely move on from Y/N.

She has attempted to date others over the last five years but nothing ever lasted longer than a few dates. No one was measuring up in her mind.

She had a taste of the closest thing to perfect in a relationship.

A relationship that started as co-workers, leading to friends and them finally progressing into lovers. The relationship had been near seamless. The two of you just fit together. Over the years of knowing each other, the relationship had a deep mutual understanding. You both understood the long hours, the distance after a hard mission, the need to hide in work or training and the reluctance to being intimate. Y/N never pushed the boundaries, she allowed Natasha to go at her own pace.

Y/N didn’t see Natasha as an object to be desired. But as a person just needing support and love. Y/N had loved Natasha so deeply. And Natasha had loved Y/N before she even realized that love was even what she was feeling. Maybe that was the seed that would lead to Natasha’s downfall.

It was hard to pin point when it had all started. Self-worth was something that Natasha didn’t believe that she was lacking. She was strong and capable in the field. However, when it came to her personal self-worth, she was in the negative.

After years of being shaped into an object to be used, directed, and wanted. Natasha wasn’t ready to be her own person in matters of the heart. Love and companionship weren’t something that Natasha felt that she deserved. Happiness was something unattainable to Natasha.

Therapy helped Natasha find the root of her self-worth issues. She believed that the only thing she was truly good at and for was the job she was trained to perform. It had taken many hours before Natasha came to the realization that she deserved happiness and love from others without any ulterior motives. She learned techniques of identifying toxic behavior and traits within herself and her immediate friend group. What to avoid and who to avoid in order to change. It was still a struggle to get into a more positive mindset. Profiling oneself is incredibly hard.

It will be something that she will most likely always struggle with. With the childhood that Natasha experienced. It is not all that surprising.

Yelena being around has also help.

It’s also funny to Natasha that Yelena never really liked Steve or Bucky. Sam is a non-entity to Yelena. And she tolerates Clint for the most part.

Yelena and Clint’s relationship is full of animosity. Yelena feels shorted compared to all of the years that Clint had gotten with Natasha. It also came to light that Clint had known about Yelena from the very beginning and had never encouraged Natasha to seek Yelena out or bridge the relationship.

This all goes through Natasha’s mind while Yelena is chatting her ear off about the new Mission Coordinator that took over the last week of the op.

Natasha finally gets a moment to speak when Yelena starts taking out a pot.

‘What do you mean? Why would the mission change coordinators in the middle of the op and what happen to Turner?’

Yelena stops pouring Noodle’s in the pot before answering ‘We got a new Mission Coordinator, that saw a flaw in the mission extraction plan.’

‘She was able to identify a leak in the data across the crypto coming in.’

Yelena started the stove before adding ‘It shaved off about two additional weeks of the operation anyways, so who am I to complain.’

Natasha nods her head in understanding. After a few years of going undercover and being away from home can be taxing. Especially when Yelena and Natasha have finally found each other again.

Yelena thoughtfully adds ‘Yeah Commander Y/N N/Y is great. She is probably just as straight faced and no-nonsense as Hill or Fury.’

Natasha whips around and coughs out ‘Y/N N/Y’

‘Did you say Y/N’

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #bad team #tony stark

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 8 months

Note

Hey there! I'm glad that your back and I hope everything goes OK with everything you've went through and big hugs from me!

I hope you don't mind a fluffy request of Poseidon falling in love with a fire goddess and teaching their children how to swim years later.

Lots of love and hugs from a big fan!!

-He was definitely not the first god on your list that you would think would ever propose to you, but Poseidon shocked not only you, but a lot of people, including his brothers.

-He was taken by you- seeing your warm radiance wherever you seemed to go- and unlike other fire deities, you had good control over your temper…sometimes.

-Poseidon adored that you were more levelheaded, you were calm but also warm and cheerful, the opposite of him, as he was cold and stoic, and that’s what drew him to you, and despite your very different abilities, the two of you were so happy together and you made things work.

-Many envied the both of you, as both of you were very highly sought after- both of you being visions of perfection, but more envy arose when the two of you started dating- you looked so perfect together!! It wasn’t fair!!

-Poseidon had no issues lording that over others- being smug about it and not hesitating a millisecond to tell those who are beneath the two of you that he was the only one worthy of you and you were the only one worthy of him.

-You were less antagonistic with talking about your relationship, something many admired you for, but also wanted you to take Poseidon down a few pegs.

-Your relationship leading into your marriage was quite literally, steamy, as the two of you seemed to create steam no matter where you went, your powers working off each other, but you both learned how to live with it early one, while others weren’t so enthusiastic, as the two of you always made things humid and muggy.

-Poseidon had to learn how to survive your mood swings once you became pregnant- gone was his level-headed (for the most part) wife and was replaced with a vicious woman who wouldn’t hesitate to raise Valhalla to the ground if you didn’t get your peanut butter and ice cream right then and there!

-Luckily the mood swings only lasted about two months, and Poseidon was able to keep them at bay using cuddles and lots of affection.

-As king he was cold, calculating, and a highly respected leader, but as a husband and soon to be father, he was so attentive of you- if you called for him, he wouldn’t hesitate to abandon whatever he was in the middle of doing to be by your side, even if you just wanted to hug him because you missed him.

-When your children were born, twins, one boy and one girl, he became an even better father, doting on them so you could rest, you did all the hard work, now it was time for him to pull his own weight around.

-Poseidon was hesitant about his children having nannies, who would assist during the first few years of his children’s lives, but learned to grow used to them, as he could dismiss them for the day if he or you were going to tend to your children.

-Your daughter was the spitting image of her father, but had your warm and bubbly personality, while your son looked more like you and acted just like his father, but just like his father, he was only soft around you and his twin.

-Once your children were old enough, five was the age you and your husband agreed on, the four of you went to the beach, Poseidon’s private beach and you set up a picnic under a large umbrella while Poseidon and your children went out into the water.

-Both were excited to finally learn how to swim, both taking after their father for the love of water. Poseidon taught them how to stretch appropriately before teaching the basics on how to float and tread water.

-Your son was a natural with floating but not as good with treading while your daughter was the opposite, having troubles staying upright while floating and treading like an expert.

-You smiled warmly, watching the three of them playing in the water, Poseidon holding onto each of their hands, one at a time, teaching them how to kick their legs and propel themselves.

-You couldn’t help but giggle as you had three fish by the time you called them back to shore for lunch, all three racing to get back to you first.

-Your kids pouted as daddy stuck his tongue out at them as he won, getting to hug you first which made you giggle, pecking his cheek gently as his reward before your kids plowed him down, knocking him away from you before rushing into your arms, hell bent on keeping him away from you.

-As you gave them all their lunch you couldn’t help but smile softly, basking in the happiness of your small family, warmth surrounding the four of you.

-Poseidon took a drink as you spoke, “Oh I almost forgot- the two of you are going to have a little brother or sister soon.” He immediately spat out his drink, looking at you as your daughter leapt into your arms, “Really?!” you couldn’t help but smile as the two men were stunned stiff at the news, but you could tell they were happy.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror poseidon

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glittering-moonlillie · 1 year

Text

Tightrope (Damian Wayne x LOA! Reader)

Warnings: Heavy mentions of abuse, a few curse words. I made this more hurt comfort rather than angst, I'm sorry :<

Summary: Ever since the both of you were younger, you taught Damian the importance of hope and - even if it took years - he was more than happy to help you believe in it again.

Word Count: 4085

Hope; it was the essence that life was built upon, the attribute that humans cling to in times of despair and grief. It was the shining light at the end of the dark tunnel, the soldier who - with gritted teeth - flipped off the dictator of life and continued to fight, bloodied, bruised and all.

All you ever did was hope: hoped for a brighter future, hoped for control, hoped to explore and create rather than neglect and diminish. Whether it was in the middle of training, while you were sleeping, or studying, hope was the hidden deity you worshiped with every fiber of your little body.

As you grew older, it was apparent that you were not born in the correct body. Your mother was a top assassin in an organization called The League of Assassins. She was taught to be a ruthless killer in order to serve the League’s higher purpose - to achieve balance in the world and create environmental harmony through slaughtering most of humanity. Instead of crafting, she helped to steal the lives of thousands, ripping them away from the world with precision.

It was a responsibility of your mothers to be “the fang that protected the head,” which now meant it was your responsibility as well. From an early age, you were shaped to be a weapon. Your mother’s hands carefully molded your clay body, her expert hands knowing what ridges to smooth and what areas to sharpen.

But the clay was too stubborn, too hard for her to mold perfectly, and resulted in a dull clump that was useless. One could imagine the disappointment of your mother, who served to be Talia’s right hand woman. When you were born, everyone expected you to have the same instinctual skill as your mother - the ability to contort into the shadows like a lethal chameleon with the ease of a slithering cobra, not to be some mindless dreamer.

You were useless in combat compared to your mother; the grip on your weapon would always waver and your feet would sway at the thought of killing someone. You always ended up being one of the first spotted in the League’s version of Hide and Seek and subsequently faced harsh punishment. Logically, you weren’t the most competent war strategist either. Sure, you weren’t an idiot, but planning a tactical win against a horde of ninja’s was not your forte.

And you would never be able to calculate the trajectory you would need to throw a shuriken in order for it to slice someone’s neck.

A people pleaser at heart, you certainly tried your best to be who your mother wished you to be. Despite your heart wanting to hurdle itself away into the night sky so it could be at peace with the stars, it was trapped in this monstrous clay construction, doomed to kill - doomed to serve.

Wake up.

Train.

Eat.

Train.

Meditate.

Study.

Train.

Eat.

Shower.

Sleep.

Repeat.

Life was a broken record, repeating its meaningless tune to an empty audience. So you hoped. You eagerly wished for some sort of reprieve, searched for a meaning more than destruction with frantic hands and wild eyes until you struck gold. Soon, your hope bloomed into a boy.

Damian was the son of Talia Al Ghul, with a soft face and forest green eyes, the raven black hair atop his head swooping to the right. He shouldered the weight of his family, his legacy and it showed. His confidence was as lustrous as an emerald. By the age of nine, he could easily take down every single member of the league (with the exception of his family) and had the tactical brilliance of Sun Tzu.

Damian was not known for his kindness, no one in the League was. You were all raised to be merciless killers, mercy would only display weakness and get yourself killed. Damian seemed to detest everyone in the League, so it puzzled you as to why someone like him decided to show you kindness.

Due to your inept nature, most leaguers often mocked you for your incompetence in battle. Their insults were displayed on your body like intricate cave paintings. Damian was the only exception, the radiant diamond that made you feel like the luckiest person. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or sympathy, but he quickly became your one and only friend.

His touch was delicate, as if he were grasping at the stem of a dandelion in order to preserve a wish. Words fell out of his mouth like an uplifting melody. Damian made it his personal mission to train you himself, if not to serve the League, than to at least protect yourself properly. You made it your mission to instill the same hope that burned through your bloodstream.

Training sessions that were filled with monochrome decay suddenly overflowed with special secrets and inside jokes between you and Damian - stories shared, wishes whispered, and dreams dreamt in the massive room that instantaneously felt too cramped. It felt like stealing bits and pieces of your childhoods back, simultaneously feeling enough yet not enough at all.

The first genuine smile Damian gave you felt like you were just given the keys to a whole kingdom. There was something so uniquely special about it, as if you just discovered the end of a rainbow. He had a couple of missing teeth that you assumed would grow back in a few months, eyes crinkling for what seemed to be the first time ever.

You expressed to him your desire to leave behind the legacy of your mother, to become a leaf swept up by the wind instead of being the bark that stubbornly grew its roots in one spot since at least the leaf would experience more of life than the tree ever will, even if it becomes brittle rust within a few days.

More than anything, you wished to be swept away by the wind, the tide, anything would do really.

He confided that he, deep down, wished to spend his days painting and growing a menagerie of rescued animals instead of living in the shadow of his mother and grandfather. But unlike you, he was also committed to proving himself and making a difference. He was the very best of the best, and his talent would be wasted if he were just a measly painter.

Just as he trained you to fight properly, you encouraged him to pursue what he wanted, even if it went against everything else he was taught.

After a few years of growing with each other, blossoms of a strong admiration and affection began to develop. Despite knowing loving him would face scorn, it was hope that made you believe you had a chance.

“I promise you, when I am in charge, you will be able to leave this place anytime you please.” He said to you, giving you that wicked smirk he always did when he was awfully proud of himself.

Damian covertly fashioned a simple promise band that day. It was made of softened branches, braided with the delicacy of hair. Tangled between the braids were small baby’s-breath, winking at you as the sun illuminated their features. He slipped it on your ring finger, as if it was a proposal, as if the two of you had a choice all along.

The ring used to be a sign of innocent childhood romance, the physical embodiment of your hope. You used to clutch it tightly, wearing it with pride wherever you went, not knowing that life was sneaking up behind you to violently snatch it away with its bony hands and cold grasp.

Now it just hung loosely around your neck, tucked underneath your clothes and hidden from the sunlight. You had walked the fine line between hope and delusion and it was only when Damian left that you realized you had been worshiping gods who would never hear your pleas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gotham city twinkled under the guidance of the waxing moon, and for a moment, it almost looked beautiful. But it was a city where crime never slept, where screams echoed and smog filled the air. It was a constant reminder of why Damian will keep fighting, even if his body aches, even if he is beaten down time and time again.

His purpose was to protect and save people, and he would do so even if it killed him. He was so eager to succeed, to strive and be better that it sometimes blinded him. But it was better than facing failure; it tasted of rotten fruit and bitter mugmort and he was not jumping at the chance to taste it again. Letting someone die was worse than making the choice to kill someone.

Perched on one of the gargoyles, the stone withering from the constant downpours, Damian allowed himself to be consumed by the thought of you. You never belonged somewhere like the League of Assassins, and Damian used to find it amusing. A group of highly skilled killers and one girl who only longed to be a professional dreamer, to soar the skies instead of being trapped in a steel cage - a girl that reminded him that there was more to life than just fulfilling a legacy. The last time he talked to you was almost a decade ago. He recalls the exact way your smile disappeared, the way the sunlight in your eyes was swept away by dark, foggy clouds.

Remembers how he swore to come back for you, only to be told you were killed right before he came back. Heartbreak consumed him then and it only worsened with time. Despite lashing out on everyone, Damian knew deep down it was his fault.

That is why he fights.

But tonight, Gotham was mostly quiet. Damian’s shoulders fell as he let the rain wash over him, letting the tension melt away. The night was growing old and since there was nothing amiss, he decided it best to retire for the night.

Making sure not to misstep, Damian got up and lifted himself onto the rooftop of the industrial building, gripping the grappling hook and preparing to swing himself to safety.

The hook latched into the darkened building, allowing Damian to swing across. Tainted air filled his lungs, settling into his body with a delicate sting, wind whipping angrily through his hair. It was the closest Damian ever felt to flying, to touching the same blue canvas you wished to be a part of.

A loud snap ripped through the air, and before Damian could react, he was rolling on the floor and bumping into a putrid dumpster. Damian grimaced. The pavement sweated with grime, making it more of an inconvenience for him to jump back up and assess the damage done.

The cord of the grappling hook had split in two but the cut seemed too precise with the frayed ends sticking up equally, meaning that the rope did not just snap; it must have been cut with something sharp enough to slice through enhanced nylon.

Damian dropped the rope and slinked back into the corner, his eyes squinting through the dark. He watched the shadows cautiously and slowed his breath to a faint whisper; the grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned a pale white.

There was a faint scurrying to his right, almost like a rat or another small rodent but the weight of each step did not match. The light steps progressively got louder, allowing Damian to step into the correct fighting stance.

He caught the small shuriken between his fingers as it whirled towards his face “Tt, whoever you are, you are absolutely terrible at sneaking up on people.” He tossed the weapon to the grimy floor. “Reveal yourself.”

A person languidly stepped out from the darkness - a walking shadow - with the only light reflected being from the glint of a palm sized weapon, most likely a dagger. Judging from the person’s curves and movement, he assumed they were a woman. If this was his mother’s doing, this would have been the first time she sent a woman after him.

“Who are you?” He inquired, voice coarse and echoing across the walls of the alleyway. Instead of an answer, he was met with the sudden charge from the inexperienced assassin who’s blade barely grazed his cheek. Damian grabbed the woman’s forearm and twisted it, using his other arm to keep them at a safer distance as she tried to swing the dagger (incorrectly) at him like a magical wand.

The woman grunted in pain, letting the dagger drop to the floor with a deafening clank. Letting her forearm go, Damian lightly kicked the person to the floor, pushing a fraction of his weight onto the solar plexus. He glared down, his eyes scanning the slick, black material and immediately recognized it as the one he was forced to wear when he was younger.

So his mother did send this person after him.

“P-please…” It was a hushed mumble mixed together with the person’s frantic breaths. His eyes scanned again and he noticed the way the woman’s eyes were thin and constricted, examining him as he was her. The terrified look on her face seemed familiar, like something from a hazy dream or an old scrapbook. For a split second, Damian thought the person looked awfully similar to you, only for the thought to be immediately swept away as soon as it appeared. It couldn’t be you, you died.

“Who are you?” He asked again, lightening the pressure of his foot. “Why did my mother send you after me?”

She continued to thrash around and murmur incoherent words, causing Damian to grumble. “If you aren’t going to answer me, I may as well dispose of-”

Before he could finish the empty threat, the hair of the woman, which shifted out of the shawl covering most of the face, leaked out like a tube of acrylic oil. The shade…it was similar to yours as well…

His heart began to leap in the air, long-forgotten hope pumping from his heart to his brain. He completely shifted his weight off of the woman and slowly leaned down.

Of course, this could have been chalked up to wishful thinking and mindless absurdity. But he, deep down, wanted to believe, to hope.

“I won’t hurt you…” He said softly, reaching out to the shawl. He tugged at it to reveal a mess of hair the color of his wishes, prayers, and dreams combined.

A few tears ran down the cheeks of the stranger, the fabric of the mask covering their mouth absorbing the liquid almost immediately. “D-don’t…shouldn’t…shouldn’t know who I am…”

“Why not?”

“I-I…you…” She paused, averting her eyes up to his once more. “Your mother wants you back in the League.” She finished, her gentler voice turning rigid and empty like a robot.

“I’ve told her once that I do not wish to be part of her League. I’m not sure how many times I need to make this explicitly clear to her.”

“No!” She suddenly pounced on Damian, voice quivering as she pressed another shuriken to his neck. “You can’t do that! Please, Damian. You don’t understand, t-the League needs you, I-I….I need to take you home o-or…or else…”

Damian felt his soul tear itself from his body, felt as if every single wound he tried desperately to cover was unearthed and drenched in lemon juice and salt. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to break out into laughter or crumble into tears.

Dangling between the two was an old and battered ring, decayed with age. Everything began to click together. The hair was the same beautiful shade, the voice was almost the exact melody, even the combat reflected the same clumsy style.

It was you.

Your eyes wandered down, widening once they saw that the ring escaped the confines of your shirt. You hastily ripped it out of Damian’s view, quickly dropping the artillery and scrambling off of him, your chest heaving.

“Y/n…” He hesitantly reached for the warmth of your hand, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers again. It was a miracle, a shooting star in the palm of his hand, twinkling with the fiery hope of a phoenix feather. He already lost you once, broke his promise, and he will never let that happen again.

“You left me…you left me there to die…” You nudged his hand away, refusing to turn towards him.

“I would never leave you there to die! I came back for you a few months later once I convinced my father and I was told you died on a mission! They said your mother did not want to revive you because you were useless!” He argued.

Damian reached for you again, desperately, the need to see you smile for him, because of him overrunning every sense of logic he normally abided by. Your shoulders were tensed as the rest of your body trembled, managing to break Damian’s frigged heart even more.

“I looked for you everywhere. I almost killed every single person in that fucking building when they said you were murdered, as if it did not matter.” He said in a broken mutter. Damian let his arms wrap around your neck loosely, resting his chin delicately on your head. “I’m sorry, Y/n…I…I failed you.”

You placed your jittery hands on top of his and clutched them just as you did when you were both younger. The sleeves of the assassin attire fell down to your elbows, exposing branches of lighter skin, twisting and curling like cruel birthmarks. “What happened to you?”

Damian couldn’t help but trace the scars with his index finger, counting how many he noticed. Blood trickled down his lip as he tried not to let rage cloud his judgment.

“When you left…m-my mother…she…” As tears slipped down your cheeks, Damian couldn’t contain the urge to gently kiss them away the same way he did the day he left. “Training became more intense…I was sent on more missions and…and every time I failed…”

Your voice trailed off, replaced with painful cries. “I-If I don’t bring you back…if you don’t rejoin the League again she might actually kill me…”

Damian watched as you erratically took off the first layer of clothing, revealing a plethora of scars along your arms and neck, down to your clavicle.Whatever restraint Damian clung onto vanished as easily as a swift slice; a bomb ticking down to its demise would have been more nimble.

“They won’t be getting away with this.” Damian got up, dusting off the filth on his pants, a plan formulating in his mind. He could call up Jason who would definitely not mind killing off some Leaguers who stepped out of line. He will call his father as well and they’ll discuss negotiations for your release. You could be safe with him, with his family. He would be able to grant you your every wish and desire, exactly how he promised.

You tugged on his sleeve. “Damian…I can’t…I have to take you home. Please, I already know I can’t fight you.”

“I am not going anywhere, Y/n, and neither are you. I told you I would free you from the League when I was nine, and I plan to keep that promise.” He managed a soft smile, hoping that it would ease away the creases on your countenance, to paint over your frown and replace it with moonbeams and sunlight. He wanted to restore the hopeful blaze in your eyes.

Your frown only deepened. “Damian, you don’t understand, I can’t. I can’t run, I can’t escape.”

You shook your head, attempting to wipe away the tears in vain. “The happy ending that I wished for, it was stolen from me, Damian, and I will never get it back. I was wrong to hope.”

“If you believed that, then you wouldn’t be wearing the ring I gave you. Y/n, you were the one who told me that I wasn’t tied to my heritage! That I could be whoever I wanted to be and do whatever I wanted to do even if it went against my family's wishes.” He fought back. “I won’t allow someone to throw your life away, Y/n. You have a choice. I can protect you.”

Palming your cheek, Damian pulled you into an embrace. The thought of you going back to someone who would only torture you, kill you, hurt him more than he would ever be able to admit.

“They’d come after me, Dami. They will hunt me down and off me the moment I let my guard down. I would never be truly free, there would be no point.” You lightly pushed him away from you again, hands resting on his chest. For a moment, he wondered if you could feel the drumming of his heartbeat, the way it raced faster than his mind could keep up with.

“And you don’t think I can protect you?” He replied, voice softening as he urged his legs to step an inch closer, and then another inch. “I would never let anyone hurt you, not ever again.”

Your eyes met with his own, and Damian hoped that the small glimmer he saw meant he was getting through the years of brainwashing, tugging at the strand of hope he knew you had left in you. Your lips parted slightly only to close a few seconds later. With your shoulders slumped, nose bright red, and cheeks gleaming with tears, you slumped into his arms and began to fully weep.

It caught Damian off guard to see the intense emotion but it did not make him uncomfortable like it usually did; no, instead he felt a pang of sympathy coiling in his stomach, growing into vines and clawing up his throat and daring him to speak.

“I’m so scared.” You whimpered, clutching onto his cape as if he were as fair weathered as a butterfly. “I-I…I…”

“I know. It’s alright.” He said. “I’m here.”

Damian made a mental note to thank Dick for teaching him how to comfort others. He pulled you out of the disgusting alleyway and out into the quiet street. Getting you somewhere safe was his first priority and there was no safer space than Wayne Manor.

“Where are we going?”

“My family home. My father will be there and so will some of my siblings. It is absolutely the safest place in Gotham for you.”

The cold air seemed more bearable when the comfort of your hand rested in his. The stirrings of a former childhood crush resurfaced the more he looked at you. Despite that though, he knew it would not be fair to push his feelings onto you. If he did, Damian would be no better than the people who controlled you your entire life.

“I thought you would have forgotten me by now.” You turned towards him, the edges of your mouth twisting into the first smile he had seen from you in years.

“Forgetting you would be like forgetting how to paint.” He remarked.

A feeling of calmness wrapped itself around the two of you like a snug quilt. Damian could sense that you were still nervous if the constant swerving of your head at any sudden noise was anything to go by, but every time he made sure to pull you closer to show he was not going anywhere.

By the time that the both of you reached the Manor, your breath managed to settle into a slower rhythm. Damian watched as your lips formed into an O as you stared up at the daunting Victorian-esque building.

“I’ve always wanted to visit a castle…” You mumbled under your breath, tipping your head curiously the same way you did when you sneakily read the banned fairytales your mother was avidly against.

Damian chuckled at the response. “And I always said I would take you to one.”

As he guided you through the Manor, the smile on your face began to appear more vividly. His family was surprised, but once he explained the situation, they eagerly welcomed you with open arms. Damian made sure to have Alfred fetch you some nicer clothes for resting while he held you in his arms.

Ever since the both of you were younger, you taught Damian the importance of hope and - even if it took years - he was more than happy to help you believe in it again.

Did I reread this again before publishing? NOPE

But did I figure out the read more thingy? HELL YES

I consider this a win lol

#Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Al Ghul #League of Assassins #Damian Wayne x Y/n #DC #Comics #Angst #Hurt/Comfort #Romance #I support healthy relationships #Damian Wayne is a little yandere in this I think oops #Batman #Talia Al Ghul #Requested #Anon requests

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miracles-and-butterflies · 6 months

Text

This marks my 1,000 post.

Thank you to everyone for the likes, reblogs, comments and asks!

In honour, you can have a sketch (at the very end) and a wip from the Reincarnation AU; Mirabel’s death.

Warning, sensitive topics below, especially blood/injury and death.

~~~~~~~

Am I Too Late For a Miracle?

“What is going on!?”

At the sound of Abuela’s approaching voice, Mirabel and Isabela stop talking, quickly standing up.

“Abuela, it’s okay,” Mirabel tries gently. “Everything is okay—”

“What are you talking about? Look at our home! Look at your sister!” She gestures sympathetically to Isabela and the surrounding mess. “It wasn’t enough that you ruined her proposal, now you have to do this too—”

“Please, listen, I-I didn’t. Isabela wasn’t happy…”

Mirabel turned to her side, where Isabela no longer was. Her sister had wandered off behind Abuela, towards where their parents and Luisa had appeared.

At the other side of the room, Tía Pepa, Tío Félix, Dolores and Camilo have also walked in on the scene.

All of them staring her down.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you.” Her gaze hardened.

“Abuela, you don’t understand, the vision—”

“You have to stop, Mirabel! The cracks started with you; Bruno left because of you; Luisa’s losing her powers, Isabela’s out of control because of you! I don’t know why you weren’t given a gift, but it is not an excuse to hurt this family!”

Cracks emerged around the pair, though neither seemed to pick up on it in the moment.

Mirabel’s heart broke.

She opens her mouth but is silenced immediately by a hand in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “I didn’t want to hurt us—”

“Enough!” Abuela thunders. “You don’t get to cry about what you’ve done. There isn’t a punishment worthy. How dare you speak to me about our miracle! How dare you hurt this family! How dare you break our home! How dare you try to harm our miracle! Let me tell you, young lady, I regret the day you were born. You have brought nothing but misfortune at every opportunity! I never would have kept you here if I’d known what a burden you were going to be! You are a disappointment. You have always been such a disappointment. A pathetic excuse for a Madrigal, a granddaughter, daughter, sister and whatever else is in your never ending list of failures. You don’t deserve to be in this family.”

The floor between them cracks, separating them. Abuela silently gasps in surprise and confusion, eyes glued to the damage; Mirabel flinches back, one hand at her heart and the other covering her mouth to prevent any fearful screams getting out.

“No, no, no!” Pepa suddenly cries.

Félix follows her gaze. “The candle!”

As if on cue, the cracks spread. One in particular splitting the house in half and knocking the candle off its perch, the candle flickers and the building shakes subsequently.

Dolores grabs onto the wall to steady herself and Camilo, firmly held by the ruana in her other hand. Isabela lurches forward to keep Abuela in her feet. Pepa almost falls into Félix. Luisa, barely fazed, secures Julieta and Agustín with either hand.

Mirabel, who had been knocked to the floor, shakes her head and recovers herself, setting her eyes on the candle.

“Casita, help me up there!”

The house tears off a line of railing, flipping it into a makeshift ladder for her.

Meanwhile, Camilo had taken the back staircase and was sprinting along the corridor towards Abuela’s door. Using his shapeshifting abilities to parkour through any suppose obstacles.

Isabela creates herself a vine to swing from and pull herself to the candle. Just as she gets close to the ledge, her door fades. The vine quickly dissipates into nothing.

She screams. Casita uses its beams to catch her, gently dropping her to the floor.

Camilo’s door flickers out next. He was mid-jump as the notably tall Josè and just as his hand goes for the edge of the roof, he shifts back to himself and misses. Casita’s other line of railing bends outwards for him to grasp on, breaking his falls as he lands beside Isabela.

He stares in horror at his own hands, his older cousin looks similar as the plants around them shrivel quickly and die.

Nearby, Antonio is stood frozen, watching as his own door goes out. It is immediately thrown off its hinges as the animals come bursting out, running and flying away into the wilderness.

“Careful! Antonio!” Félix remarks, quickly scooping the boy up. As his door comes crashing down to where he was just standing. With the boy in his arms, Félix makes for the exit. “We have to get out of here!” He throws over his shoulder to Julieta, Agustín and Pepa, who are doing everything but that.

“Mirabel?!” Julieta shouts.

Just as she tries to go after her daughter, Casita ripples it’s tiles in powerful waves forcing them out.

“Mirabel!” She cries again, almost tripping to step over Casita.

“Mirabel! You have to get out!” Agustín yells.

“Mirabel—”

The family is thrown out front door at that point. Luisa manages to break Abuela’s fall, Félix does the same for Antonio.

Bruno races on the inside of the walls that are crumbling and piling with dust, quickly shoving every rat inside his ruana. He retrieves Hernando’s bucket, slams it onto his head and crashes head first through the walls.

He tumbles out into the grass below, lifting the bucket as he eyes everything in disbelief. It’s been so long since he’s seen the outside; who would have thought it would be like this?

“Mirabel?!” Julieta cries in alarm, reaching out over Abuela’s shoulder. Casita hasn’t thrown her out. She’s still there. Struggling on her short legs to reach the candle. “Mirabel! Leave it!”

“Mirabel! The house is going to fall!” Félix hollers up.

Pepa twists anxiously at her braid. “Mirabel! Get out!”

“Mirabel!” Agustín shouts.

Casita shifts its tiles and Mirabel finally grasps the candle, panting in relief. Just as she dusts it over, the walls come crushing down around her.

The roof jolts downwards without warning, sending Mirabel hastily over its edge. She cries out. The stairs rise, sliding her onto the ground.

She sits up, eyes going wide as the building caves in. She closes her eyes, adjusts herself to lean over the candle, cradling it like something fragile in her lap. Various pieces of furniture stack themselves protectively around her, trying to shield her from the incoming attack.

“Thank you, Casita.”

~~~~~~

Dolores wailed in agony outside.

Her gift, unfortunately, seemed to be one of the last to fade.

She gripped her own ears tightly, nails digging into the skin, almost determined to rip them off. Over the top of her own hands were Isabela’s and Luisa’s, both her cousins looking at her with such concern.

Abuela was still stood frozen, Julieta and Agustín hovering beside her. Her father was off to the side comforting Antonio with help from Camilo. Her mother was partially sidetracked by something, no someone, in the distance. Townspeople were starting to gather further behind them all.

“Mirabel?!” Julieta cries in alarm, reaching out over Abuela’s shoulder. “Mirabel! Leave it!”

“Mirabel! The house is going to fall!” Félix hollers up.

Pepa twists anxiously at her braid. “Mirabel! Get out!”

“Mirabel!” Agustín shouts.

And Dolores just had to hear it.

Each item, each beam, each tile hit the floor and shatter, one after the other. Mirabel’s cries of absolute terror. It’s clearly her voice, but it sounds nothing like her. All haunting and broken. Dolores thinks she hears Mirabel calm, both realising Casita has sheltered her, and they whisper, “Thank you, Casita.”

And then there’s the deafening cracks as Bruno’s tower comes loose.

It falls.

And falls.

And takes Mirabel’s head down with it.

Dolores heard her splutter on her own blood and air. Her body coming to a silent and abrupt halt. Wherever it lands, Mirabel’s head is still alive. Her glasses smash on impact and cut into her cheeks. She hears the eyelids flutter open and the lips move, trying to scream, no doubt at the sight of her own headless corpse. But she doesn’t have her vocal cords to do that. The eyes blink again, straining to look away. Then nothing.

Casita breaks.

There’s a ringing in Dolores’ ears, in everyone’s ears, when Casita is completely gone and everything is still.

Two doors that had been sheltering Mirabel’s body fall apart, one squeaks open and shut one final time, as if saying you’re welcome. As if the house didn’t just let Mirabel die.

She covers her mouth and drops to the grass. Isabela being the only thing keeping her upright - Luisa had already walked off to her father.

“Shush, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Lola, I’ve got you,” Isabela whispers, holding her against her.

It’s been ages since she and Isa have been this close.

In spite of herself, Dolores can’t help but take the opportunity and tightens herself around Isabela.

Julieta pushes Abuela aside, running into the building. “Mirabel!” She calls, searching the debris.

“Everyone okay?” Agustín asks around. “Is everyone okay?”

“How could this happen?” Luisa questions nobody in particular.

Félix shakes his head in disbelief. “The Encanto is broken…”

“What do we do now?”

“My powers… they’re gone.” Camilo sulks. “And what about Antonio? What’s he going to do?”

Isabela taps her shoulder. “Dolores? Are you okay? Can you hear me? You aren’t listening to me.”

Dolores looks stunned.

She realises.

“My gift,” she mumbles. “Our gifts. They aren’t gone. I can still…”

She can’t bring herself to finish.

Isabela looks unconvinced, but doesn’t say anything. Though she does wave her hand half-heartedly, only for a cactus to suddenly pop out from the ground beside them.

“Mirabel!” Julieta cries in relief, finally spotting the familiar teal among everything. She races over, checking the girl bottom to top for injuries, as she always does; Dolores didn’t need her hearing for that, her Tía always does that. She tries to imagine what Julieta sees. The embroidery must be snagged and torn, the candle must still be glowing in her hands, she’ll be covered in dust and blood— and then Julieta screams.

Dolores figures she worked it out.

“Julieta, come quick!” Her mother calls in the distance, pointing at Bruno, who is not so-subtly hiding in the grass. “Julieta!”

The healer just collapses in front of the body, shrieking in anguish, reaching out but can’t bring herself to touch Mirabel’s severed neck or anywhere else.

~~~~~~

#encanto #encanto reincarnation au #mirabel madrigal #alma madrigal #dolores madrigal #isabela madrigal #julieta madrigal #bruno madrigal #luisa madrigal #agustín madrigal #pepa madrigal #félix madrigal #antonio madrigal #camilo madrigal #my writing #my art #encanto fanart

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

Text

Lightning Bug - Chapter 14

Master list for Lightning Bug

Warning: nightmare, mention of a nightmare, mention of abuse,

Word count: 3.8k

The group beside Kamala groaned. “What? We have a new person in the group. It’s the perfect game to play.” She looked at you to back her up but your eyes went wide.

“Don’t bring me into this,” you said. It was Kamala’s turn to groan. “Feel free to play whatever I’ll watch the first few rounds.” Peter sighed.

“Fine but whatever happens here stays here,” the group agreed and the game began. Kamala went first. She got America to yell the first word that came to her mind which happened to be fuck. America asked Peter and he picked dare which led him to give Ned a lap dance for 30 seconds. That made you laugh. Peter asked MJ if she ever broke a law and she said yes. MJ got Kate to seductively eat a banana. Then Kate made Kamala eat a spoonful of mustard. Finally, Kamala asked Yelena what was the strangest thing she’s eaten. It was a kangaroo. As the game went on, the truths got deeper and the dares got weirder. You laughed along with your friends. Friends. You had a group of friends that made you laugh and smile and felt safe.

“Can I play?” You finally asked.

“Of course,” Ned said. “Truth or dare?” You weren’t ready for dare questions.

“Truth,” you said.

“How do you feel about the Twilight saga?” You giggled.

“They are a guilty pleasure read,” you told him. You didn’t hate them but they weren’t your favorite. “But they aren’t great. America, truth or dare.”

“Truth,” the game continued. You stuck to the truth option. Kate asked what your favorite animal was which you said was a dog. MJ asked if you could travel anywhere in the world where you would go, and you picked Japan. It was Kamala’s turn to pick who to ask.

“So Y/n,” Kamala said. “Trust or dare?”

“Truth,” you said without hesitation. You watched her ponder her question, head moving side to side.

“I overheard Natasha talking to Carol that you are like me,” she pointed to America. “Like her. So what can you do?” The question made your heart skip. It was such a simple question but with an answer that scared you.

“You do not have to answer that,” America said, quickly.

“Yeah, she can ask you a different question,” Kate added. You looked at Kamala, the girl looked confused by what was going on. She didn’t know that it was a touchy subject, how could she?

“No, it’s fine,” you said, forcing a smile on your face. “It’s cool,” you rubbed your hands together, clearing your throat. “I can manipulate electricity,” you said. “I can create it, control it, and be a conductor for it.” The group was silent as they looked at you. You hated being the center of attention.

“Woah!” Ned finally said. “That is so cool!”

“You're like a mini Thor!” Kamala said. You blushed, rubbing the back of your head.

“Uh yeah, I guess,” you shrugged.

“And you were born with that ability?” Peter asked. You nodded.

“I’ve been dealing with it all my life,” you said. You looked at MJ, wanting the conversation to be directed away from you. “Truth or dare?” You asked her.

You lay on your back with your hands behind your head. “Knock, knock,” you looked up and saw Yelena standing in your doorway. You must have forgotten to close your door. You sat up, leaning on your forearms. “Can I come in?” You nodded as she sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m proud of you,” you didn’t mask the confusion on your face. “You didn’t have to share that but you did,” you placed your chin on your knee. “What is going through your head?” You sighed.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “My thoughts are all jumbled.” You closed your eyes. “I wish I was normal.” It was quiet in your room at your admission. You questioned if Yelena was still here but you heard her move on your bed.

“If you were normal then you wouldn’t be you,” you opened your eyes and Yelena was looking at you with a smile. “I don’t know why you hate your powers and I don’t need to know but it’s a part of you and I think you are pretty great.” You smiled.

“You're pretty great too.” The Black Widow stood up.

“I’ll leave you alone. But if you need anything, come find me, okay?” You nodded.

“Thank you,” she smiled, closing your door. You sighed, climbing underneath the covers. You played with the crochet blanket, you’ve yet to put it back in the closet. It was a gentle reminder that you were home.

“How is she?” Kate asked when Yelena walked into the kitchen. The archer was making two cups of hot chocolate. “Whip Cream?”

“Yes please,” Kate put some on top of her mug and handed it to the Black Widow. “She’s okay,” she took a sip of her drink. It was one of her guilty pleasures from being free from the Red Room. She loved sweets which worked out as Kate was more into savory treats. “Well, I think she is,” Yelena wrapped her hand around Kate’s. “Should we tell Natasha and Wanda?” The question was burning in the back of her throat. Kate was looking at their connected hands, moving her thumb back and forth.

“We all agreed that whatever was said in that game stays within the group,” Yelena sighed.

“That was said because Peter Parker doesn’t want Stark to know he gave Ned a lap dance,” Kate laughed. She covered her mouth to muffle the sound. Yelena smiled. She loved the sound of her laugh. It made her feel warm and safe. “Not about something like this,” she said once her girlfriend’s laughter died down. Kate sighed.

“Look, she told us that because she trusts us. I’m not saying she doesn’t trust Nat and Wanda but she could be more comfortable with us,” she knew her girlfriend was right. It would be a breach of trust. “Besides, it doesn’t change who she is.” She was right again. Yelena took a sip of her hot chocolate. She didn’t miss the smirk that Kate tried to hide on her face.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing. It’s just-” Kate stopped herself. “I’ll get it.” Yelena watched as her girlfriend rounded the island and stood in front of her. The archer captured her lips in a soft kiss. Her hands found a place on Kate’s lips. “You had whip cream on your lips.” Yelena rolled her eyes. But her heart melted.

“You are such a dork, Kate Bishop,” the younger girl giggled and played with the baby hairs on the base of Yelena’s neck.

“Yeah but I’m your dork.” Before Yelena could respond, she heard a door slam close and a frantic blue-eyed girl came rushing out.

“Y/n,” Yelena said. But the girl made no indication that she heard her.

You heard your name but it felt like your ears were stuffed with cotton balls. “Hey, bud,” your nightmare-induced brain focused on that. You shook your head and saw Kate in front of you. “Are you with us?” You looked around and saw Yelena in the kitchen with a worried look on her face.

“Yeah,” your voice shook. “I’m here.”

“A nightmare?” Yelena questioned. You nodded, unable to trust your voice. Your throat was burning as you fought to hold back your tears. “Kate and I were about to watch a movie. Do you want to join us?” You nodded, wordlessly following them to the couch. You sat as far away from them as possible. Your entire body was tense. You were afraid, the nightmare coursing through your veins. You had no idea what movie they put on. The nightmare was right in the subconscious. You could still feel it. You could hear your father yelling at you, the way his hands were on you. The disgusted look on your mother’s face and the fear in your brother’s eyes. You were only 4 years old when you discovered what you could do and you thought your father was going to kill you. You felt the couch move and it snapped out of the fog and watched Yelena stand up.

“Where are you going?” You asked, desperation seeping from your voice. The Black Widow stopped.

“I’m just going to get you and us a blanket.” You nodded.

“Can you grab the red and black one from my room?” You asked. “Please.” You added quickly. Yelena nodded with a smile and you focused back on the movie. It was animated but you weren’t sure what the plot was you felt Kate watching you. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you said, not looking at the archer.

“I’m dating Yelena. I know when someone doesn’t want to talk about a nightmare,” she teased but a smile didn’t form on your face. You heard Yelena come back and you took the blanket from her, wrapping it tightly around you. You felt a little better. “Come here,” you looked at Kate. She had a blanket over her, covering most of her skin.

“W-What?” You stuttered.

“You don’t like skin-to-skin contact and this blanket is covering me so you can cuddle up to me,” you stared at the couple.

“Cuddle?” You questioned. “I don’t-”

“If you don’t want to then that’s fine,” Yelena assured. “But it sometimes helps me.” Oh.

“I’ve never cuddled with someone,” you said. “I don’t know how.” Kate smiled.

“It’s okay. I got you. Just rest your head on my stomach and or chest.” You nodded and stiffly moved towards Kate. You looked at Yelena for confirmation it was okay and she nodded. You rested your head on Kate’s stomach and stretched your legs out on the couch. Even though the blanket, you could feel the warmth she radiated and the slow in and out of her breaths.

“Relax,” Yelena said, standing up and fixing the blanket that was on top of you.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, letting a few tears fall. Yelena knelt so she was face to face with her. Her green eyes stared into your blue.

“You won’t, okay? You're safe here and we got you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. Eyes focusing on the movie. It didn’t take long for the calm feeling of Kate breathing to lure you to sleep.

Natasha rested her head on the cool metal of the elevator. It did little to relieve the pounding. “I told you to not take that last shot,” she spared a glance at her girlfriend, who had a smirk on her face.

“Shut up,” the Black Widow mumbled. Was it stupid to play a drinking game with Thor, Carol, and Bucky using Asgardian Ale? Yes. But it was so rare that Thor and Carol were at the tower she wanted to enjoy it and helped her forget the last couple of days. The elevator opened. “You just-” the scene in front of her caused her to freeze. Yelena was staring at her, finger to her lip - telling her to be quiet. Kate was leaning heavily on Yelena fast asleep and on Kate was Y/n, resting her head on Kate’s stomach and asleep. The volume of the movie was lowered and Yelena must have put subtitles on.

“She had a nightmare,” Yelena whispered, not wanting to wake up the other two but Kate did stir and open her eyes.

“Do you want us to take her to her room?” Wanda asked.

“You can try,” Kate said, her voice laced with sleep. “I am kind of comfy.” Natasha wasn’t sure if she was being 100% truthful. Wanda knelt at the young girl’s level.

“Dorogoy,” she whispered. “Wake up.” The teen stirred but didn’t open her eyes and hugged the blanket closer to her. It was a blanket that Wanda made for Natasha. She only took it out for movie nights or when Wanda was away on a mission.

“Come on, sleepy head. Wake up.” The teen groaned, opening her eyes. She blinked a few times.

“Is it morning already?” She asked.

“No,” Natasha chuckled. “But why don’t we move to your room so Kate can get some sleep too?” She looked up at the archer, groaned, and burrowed her head back into Kate’s stomach.

“Don’t wanna,” she mumbled. Kate giggled.

“We’ll cuddle again,” the archer said. She sighed, sitting up.

“Promise?” She asked. Her voice was so soft and small. She sounded like a little kid.

“Yeah, promise.” She relaxed at the promise Kate made.

“Good night,” she said. “And thank you.” She headed towards the room.

“Do you know what her nightmare was about?” Natasha asked. They shook their heads.

“It scared her, whatever it was though,” Yelena said. Natasha nodded.

“Thank you,” Wanda smiled. “For being there for her.”

“Of course,” Kate rearranged her position so her head was in Yelena’s lap. “She’s like a little sister to me.” Natasha smiled.

“Good night,” she said. A chorus of goodnights from Yelena and Kate followed her as she walked to Y/n’s room. She found the teen sitting crisscrossed on her bed, picking at the blanket. “Hey,” she didn’t look up even when Natasha sat on the corner of her bed. “Do you want us to stay?” She heard Wanda walk behind her. The witch wrapped her arms around Natasha and rested her head on her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just want the nightmares to stop.” Wanda sat down next to her.

“Do you want me to help?” The teen looked at the witch.

“How?”

“Well,” Wanda crossed her legs. “I can go into your mind with my powers and I’ll subdue the memories and quiet your mind.” The girl’s shoulders tensed up.

“Will you see what’s going on in my head?” She asked softly. Wanda shook her head.

“Nope, unless you want me to,” Y/n shook her head which caused Wanda to giggle. “Do you want me to help?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, get comfy,” the teen climbed underneath the covers and Natasha lay the crochet blanket over her. “Close your eyes and relax.” She did what she was told but her shoulders were tense.

“Relax, milyy (sweetie),” the Black Widow said, rubbing her chest. “You're safe here.” The teen nodded.

“I know,” she closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. Natasha watched Wanda’s fingers glow red. Her powers always amazed her. She didn’t touch the girl’s temples but her red magic floated across her forehead. Wanda’s eyes flashed red and the young girl’s body slumped deeper into her bed. Natasha looked at her girlfriend, who was frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” she sighed. “It’s just she’s so scared.” Natasha grabbed her hand.

“Scared?” The Black Widow questioned. “Scared of who?” The witch looked at her girlfriend.

“Herself.”

You slowly woke up. You felt incredibly well rested. You buried your face deeper into the pillow and the blanket around you tighter. You did not want to get up. For once, the bed felt perfect. It was warm, soft, and felt safe. “Miss. Y/n, it appears Miss. Chavez is at your door.” You groaned.

“Tell her to go away,” you mumbled.

“She has food with her.” You sighed, sitting up.

“She can come in,” the door opened and America walked in holding a tray.

“I see how it is,” America said, kicking your door close. “You only wanted to see me because I have food,” you giggled as she sat on your bed. On the tray, she brought you grilled cheese and tomato soup. “How did you sleep?”

“Good actually,” you took a bite of your sandwich. “I was really tired.” America smiled, dipping her sandwich into her soup and eating it.

“I would say that because it's 12:30,” your eyes widened.

“Oh well yeah, I guess I was.” She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“You missed Kamala’s send-off,” You were upset by that. “But she gave me this to give to you.” She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to you. It read, ‘It was nice meeting you. I’ll be in Jersey for a while so text me and maybe we can meet up in the city! -Kamala’ added her phone number at the bottom. You smiled, putting the note on your nightstand.

“Thank you for bringing me food.”

“No problem,” she smiled. “Yelena and Kate said you had a nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head.

“Maybe one day but not today,” she nodded and you both finished your food in silence. “Have you watched Avatar: The Last Airbender?” You asked, finishing the rest of your soup.

“No, I’ve been meaning to.”

“Do you want to watch a few episodes with me?” She agreed and once your dishes were cleaned up, you sat on the couch with America. She made sure to leave enough space between you two but you couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to cuddle with her as you did with Kate. Would she be warm like Kate? Would her heartbeat lure you to sleep?

“Hey, are you okay?” She asked. “Your face got flushed.” That made your cheeks burn more.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat. “I was thinking about my nightmare.” You lied.

“This will help,” she said and put on the first episode. You moved a little closer to her so your legs were barely touching. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything. You soon realized your mistake as it was very hard to focus on the show with America being so close.

Watching a few episodes, lead you to watch the first half of the season. You would have watched more but America got called to the sanctum. It was a good show and you were enjoying it. You walked to Tony’s lap with your Russian notebook and headphones since FRIDAY informed you the billionaire wanted to see you. You were surprised to see Bruce. He was working on Rhodney’s suit. “Hi,” you said, making your presence known. He turned around, offering you a kind smile.

“Hi,” he said. “Tony will be right back. You can join me if you’d like.” He sounded so hesitant, scared, and unsure of himself. You knew the man the power had behind him. You smiled.

“Okay,” you pulled up a stool and sat down next to him. He went back to work. “So,” you said, after a beat of silence. “How does the suit work?” Bruce glanced at you.

“You want to know how this works.”

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s better than sitting in silence watching you do something I don’t understand.” Bruce chuckled, shaking his head.

“Fair enough,” he explained that the suits were powered by arc reactors, a fusion-type power source featuring a palladium core. He said that each suit had repulsors built into the hands and feet with AI built into it. Depending on the suit (or Mark as Tony called them), it had specific weapons. Rhodney’s AI system was malfunctioning which wasn’t allowing him to communicate with FRIDAY or the rest of the team. So when Tony returned with a box in his hand, he found you both hunched over the suit while Bruce was messing with wires.

“Whatcha doing?” He asked. You looked at the billionaire with a smile.

“Learning about Rhodney’s suit. What’s that?” You asked, pointing at the box in his hands.

“This is the stuff Pepper left for you,” he put the box on the table. “She left a note and told me to stress the importance that all of this does not need to be done by the time she gets back.” You nodded and stepped out of the way so Tony could take your place to see what Bruce was dealing with. But you stayed and listened to them talk, using words and vocabulary that you didn’t understand. It didn’t bore you as they tried to determine the problem. It was fun, like a giant puzzle and it made you think about Tony’s offer. You weren’t Tony Stark or Bruce Banner smart but maybe with the schooling you could understand what they were saying. “Hey kid, you with us?”

“What?” You blushed. “Sorry, I was lost in my head. What’s up?” Tony smiled.

“We figured it out,” Bruce said. “Do you want to see how we did it?” You nodded, excitedly jumped off the chair, and walked over to them. You listened intently. Maybe you should take Tony up on that offer.

Sleeping until 12:30 was a blessing and a curse, you weren’t tired so you stayed up working on the date entry Pepper left for you but now it was 2 a.m. and you couldn’t fall asleep. You didn’t have a destination in mind as you walked around the tower at night. You took the stairs to each floor and walked around with your hand on the wall. It was calming. You felt like you were the only person in the world. “Oops,” you said to the body you ran into. “I wasn’t-” your sentence died on your lips as you stared at who ran into. It was Bucky. Of course, it was Bucky. He scratched the back of his head with his metal head.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going either.” You licked your dry lips.

“I uh was going to make some hot chocolate,” you said, heading into the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“Yeah,” he said, without hesitation. “That sounds nice.” You weren’t sure what you were doing but you ignored the man sitting down in front of you as you focused on your task. “Here,” you set the mug down in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said with a kind smile but the kind gesture made your stomach drop and your throat tighten. You tried to keep your eyes ahead of you instead of the man but it was hard.

“I should apologize,” you finally said. “I haven’t been the nicest to you and I’m sorry,” you couldn't look at him but he gave you his full attention. “You remind me of someone I used to know and he would hurt me.” It wasn’t the full truth. He would hurt you and you would hurt him. It was a never-ending cycle.

“It’s okay,” you finally looked at him. “I understand. I’m sorry too, that life hasn’t been kind to you.” You were surprised to hear an apology from him.

“Life hasn’t been kind to either of us,” he sighed, his blue eyes staring into yours. He looked away and stared into his mug of hot chocolate. “But we made it here, right?” Bucky looked at you. “It has to count for something.”

“Yeah, kid,” Bucky smiled. “I think it does.”

Taglist: @aestruvx @toouncreativeforausername @mo-dedddd @whitewidowsbite @mythixmagic @julilamoment

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nickfowlerrr · 2 years

Text

you can’t.

pairing: soft!dark bucky barnes x virgin!witch reader

warnings: 18+ only. noncon/dubcon, smut, pet names, talks of blood, talks of rituals and sacrifices, loss of virginity, crying, absolutely not canon. if i’ve missed anything please let me know!!

words: 4.9k

notes: canon? we don’t know her. this is my first attempt at a dark fic and it was absolutely inspired by that one episode of supernatural 💀 lol. i think i like this? and i hope you do too 💘 as always - feedback is both welcomed and appreciated!

This is a DARK fic!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

“Here. You’ll need to take this,” Stark said as he handed you the vial that contained the black liquid. “Otherwise trying to go through with the sacrifice will send your powers into overdrive. They’ll do everything they can to keep you alive, which will inevitably end badly for anyone in close proximity to you.” It made sense. And you didn’t have any reason to think you would need your powers between then and now. You were safe. It was just you and Bucky at the compound tonight. Everyone else was either desperately trying to get a lead on Wanda or leaving to get things prepared for tomorrow night. So you took it and swallowed it down. It felt like blood sliding down your throat and the feeling served as a reminder that your story would end in blood. Just the way it started. Blood magic was powerful enough on its own - but blood magic being used by and running through a natural born witch - it was something else entirely. Your mother wasn’t a natural born- she was trained - forged. And when she had you, she didn’t know that you yourself were different. You had been born with magic being an innate ability, no forging required. But because your mother didn’t know, she had trained you in the most powerful magic she had known. Blood. It was a deeply intense form of magic and the power that it came with was unlike any of the other disciplines. You quickly became enchanted with the magic and it soon merged with your pure and natural abilities to create a form of magic unlike anything that had been seen before. The only force stronger than your own was that of the Scarlet Witch. You had heard stories of her from your mother. Of the myth that she was. And then you joined the Avengers and you met her. You quickly became close. Sharing your knowledge with each other, constantly trying to learn about your abilities. It was inevitable that you two would end up linked. After experimenting with blood magic bonding, you two had decided to try a spell. The bond you two naturally shared was like one of sisters, but the second you two enacted the spell it became more. It was like you could feel each other, and when you needed to find one another, you could. You could also transfer your magic through your blood bond, even call out to each other when you were in trouble. You knew one another like no one else. You were always there for one another. Until you weren’t. When Wanda lost everything, that included you. After the snap brought you back, you didn’t know what to do or where to go. You were weak - something had happened to you when you were snapped away, your mind was clouded and your powers seemingly depleted. Your blood bond with Wanda was apparently gone. It took you months to regain your powers and find your way back to the team. And by then, things had already gotten very much out of hand. Wanda had become, “a problem”, as Strange had put it. You and the team had spent the last four months trying to find her. And you all knew time was running out on Strange’s prophecy.

“You are the only one who would be able to stand a chance against her, Y/N. And only with blood magic. She is the Scarlet Witch. Anyone else going against her, it just wouldn’t be a fair fight. But you- using your magic- it might just even the playing field for us.”

You had thought your story would end in a fight. An all out battle with Wanda. There was no way you were going to win- you knew that. But you losing wasn’t the same as the team losing. If the team lost - the world lost. If you lost - well that distraction might be enough to edge closer to victory. The power you would unleash in death could very well be enough to pull off the impossible.

But with this ritual - you would know exactly where Wanda was. Exactly what she was doing. You would have the upper hand. This could be what you needed to get to Wanda before Strange’s prophecy could pass - before she went too far. If you could find her now - you could stop her without having to kill her. That was all that mattered to you. If you had to die so that the world could live, you were fine with that. And if you had to die so that Wanda could live, you would. She was like your sister. Of course you would. In a heartbeat. And so you were going to.

It called for a virgin sacrifice. Something you had chosen not to inform the team of until tonight - though you had suspected that Strange already knew. You were grateful that he respected you enough to let you disclose that information on your own. When you had finally told the team, they were, as you expected, adamantly against going through with it. After you explained your perspective, how giving yourself for the ritual could potentially save the entire world and Wanda herself - how your blood specifically could amplify the spell. This, your sacrifice, could save hundreds of thousands of lives. And though Steve and Bucky in particular were still against it, you had everyone else on your side. They didn’t all agree with your decision, but they respected it. Well, everyone but Bucky.

“Do you know how stupid this is? None of us know if this will work. We don’t know how far she’s gone. And even if she isn’t completely out of her mind when we find her, what makes any of you think she will listen to us now? Huh? She didn’t before,” Bucky had yelled at all of you.

“We weren’t there for her before.” You said sharply. “None of us. So we have to try. Because she deserves for us to try. Not just to save the world from her destruction - but to save her from herself. Her grief. It’s all she’s ever known and she deserves more than that. I won’t let her become the villain she’s been trying to fight her entire life -“

“And I won’t just let you kill yourself for her!” He shot back. All you could do was stare at him as his gaze bore into yours. Finally you tore your eyes away and looked to the ground.

“If this is what we have to do to get to her, then we’re gonna do it. I’ll do it.” You said, effectively making your point to everyone else in the room.

He still refused to have any part in getting the ritual done. Deciding instead to focus his efforts on trying to change your mind, because there was no way in hell he was going to lose you. And he knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help but feel hurt that you would so willingly give your life away. As if you had nothing to live for. As if he meant nothing to you. And so his hurt twisted it’s way into rage as he continued to argue with you.

Even as half the team, being led by Steve, urgently went back to trying to discover any other way to find Wanda, any way to not have to go through with this ritual or at the very least to not make it fatal, and the other half led by Stark and Strange got to work getting all the other aspects of the ritual ready for the next night.

And so that’s how you found yourself left alone at the compound with a very upset Bucky. He was outraged, disgusted even, by the way everyone had seemed to let this go so easily. As if this wasn’t your life being given up. As if losing you wouldn’t be as tragic a loss as he knew it would be. And even after everyone had left, he didn’t back down in his argument. You two were going back and forth until you had finally had enough. You couldn’t keep letting him try and change your mind. A small part of you was afraid that maybe he just might. Of course you didn’t want to die. But you were willing to.

But with Bucky pleading with you not to do it, near begging you to not leave the team, to not leave him, you could feel your resolve starting to slip away. You needed to just get away.

“We’ll need you when we find her. And we can find her some other way, there has to be another way. If we get to her without you - it will have all been pointless anyway!” Bucky continued in his rant as you stood there, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He was making this so much harder than it had to be.

“If this works, you won’t need me.”

“I will always need you, y/n.”

You knew he’d be upset but you really didn’t imagine the fight he would put up for this - for you.

When you had finally found your way back home, back to the team, you and Bucky grew close rather quickly. There was an instant attraction, a pull to one another. Bucky was always there for you. Always made you feel safe. Taken care of, even. But it never developed into anything more, Bucky wouldn’t let it. “He’s scared,” Steve had said to you one night after having a talk with Bucky. “He really likes you, y/n. He’s just scared. He’s lost a lot in his life, ya know?”

“I get it. I just .. I don’t know, it seems like he doesn’t think he deserves to be happy. In any aspect of his life. And I just hope he knows that, whether it includes me or not, he deserves his happy ending, too. I mean, we all do. You included,” you intoned as your elbow nudged his and you nodded your head in the direction of Nat who was in the kitchen making dinner.

“Yeah,” he pondered. “Yeah, we all do, don’t we.” He smiled as he looked to Nat, who had turned just in time to see him staring and gave him her signature smirk.

“What are you two talking about?” Bucky asked as he snuck up on you from behind the couch.

“How are you always so quiet?” You questioned in response as you tilted your head back to look up at him standing behind you.

“I’m gonna go help Nat out in the kitchen,” Steve said as he excused himself.

Bucky walked around and took his seat next to you. “I know you know I heard that little conversation.”

“I know you know I know you heard,” you smiled at him. “And I mean it. You do deserve to be happy.”

“Who says I’m not happy?” He asked with a light smile. You just looked at him and smiled a tight smile, pressing play on the movie you had all agreed on watching that night.

Yeah, you were happy, too. But man, you thought, we could be happier. Together.

But You had resigned to just being his friend, because that was enough if it had to be. If this was as far as Bucky was willing to take your relationship, then it was better than not having him at all, you thought. You didn’t know, truly, how deeply Bucky felt for you. How serious you were to him. You were everything and he just couldn’t risk ruining it and losing you. So he was trying his best to take things slow with you and not come on too strong.

This entire situation changed everything for him, though. He didn’t care about coming on too strong anymore, he just needed to get you to see that you couldn’t just go. He couldn’t let you give your life away. He couldn’t lose you.

“This is our shot, Bucky. And if Strange is right, I’m probably gonna die either way. So if I’m dying a virgin, I mean, at least it’ll be for a reason,” You tried to joke. Though you knew he wouldn’t find it funny. Instead of waiting to hear his response, you turned around, walked out of the kitchen and retreated to your room.

You had one night left to yourself. You decided to change into something comfortable - your favorite pajamas would do- and settle in with your favorite movies while you planned on packing your things up to make it easier on everyone when they would inevitably have to clear your room. Your plans were swiftly interrupted by the sound of your door opening.

Having only just removed your jacket, you turned around in surprise and were startled to see the way Bucky’s face was contorted. He looks… pained? Conflicted. He’s obviously upset by your decision - but this seems something more. His eyes are dark and honestly - you feel a little scared as he lifted his head and his eyes meet yours.

“Bucky…” you nearly whisper.

“I won’t let you go through with this. Everyone else might be okay with this - justifying it because it’s ‘the noble thing’,” he scoffed at the recollection of the nights earlier arguments. “But it’s not. It’s nothing other than murder. You’re going to let them murder you, Y/N.” He was speaking roughly and low as he slowly approached you - all the while you were trying to cautiously back away from him. Trying to keep some space between you two.

It was an odd feeling trying to keep away from him. You loved Bucky. Normally you would do anything if it meant being around him- but right here, right now. All you wanted to do was get away. You need to get away, you realized as your back hit the wall. There wasn’t much you could do right now. Your powers were at the weakest they had ever been thanks to the serum Tony and Bruce gave you. And the look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t know what he was going to do and though you were sure he wasn’t going to kill you - you were still afraid. This feeling was foreign. You had always felt safe with Bucky. Like no matter what, he would be there to protect you. He would do anything for you, anything to protect you.

Oh, god. He would do anything to protect you.

Anything.

You didn’t want to even think it. It seemed impossible. Like it was the last thing he could possibly be willing to do.

“Bucky, please. What are you doing?”

“You’re not giving me a choice here, Y/N.” He said, a hint of sadness in his voice as he stood just inches in front of you, brows furrowed.

“There’s always a choice, Bucky.”

“Then my choice is to not let you die.” He grit out as he backed up all the way up to the wall, your body lightly hitting it as he held you there.

He inched closer and you inhaled a sharp breath.

“I can’t lose you.” He spoke quietly, almost to himself, as he leaned his head down - his forehead pressed to yours as he closed his eyes.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know how to feel.

You had imagined plenty of times what it would be like to be with Bucky. It was no secret you had feelings for each other, but Bucky would never let anything happen. Though, you had been teased on multiple occasions by other members of the team about what they liked to call your “boyfriend without benefits” relationship with Bucky. He would certainly act as if you were together, but nothing physical ever happened - obviously.

So right now, with him being so close to you - you just didn’t know what to do.

And when his lips found yours - you swore you could feel every emotion he was going through. You could swear you knew his every thought in that moment.

He was angry. Scared. Frustrated. But mostly, and this is what worried you most, was the feeling of guilt that flooded the kiss. The pain.

And so that kiss confirmed what you had feared. Bucky wasn’t going to let you go through with it. He was determined to stop you. He was willing to do anything to keep you alive - even this.

As he continued his assault on your lips, you found yourself caught up in the feeling of him - something you had longed for for so long - and didn’t even register how compliant you were being. You couldn’t do this - you had to stop him. You began to struggle against him, trying to push him away.

“Bucky, stop. Please,” you got out through deep breaths as his lips left yours and began to trail down your face and neck as his hands grabbed your arms to keep your back against the wall and your chest to his.

“It’s okay,” he muttered against your neck. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

“Bucky you can’t do this. Please. You wouldn’t-“

“I would.” He growled. “To keep you safe- alive. I will.” He reasoned. “I have to.”

“Youre being selfish.” You bit out.

“Selfish?” He scoffed. “Maybe I am. After everything, I think I deserve to be a little selfish. I think I deserve a little happiness. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me? That I deserve my happy ending.” He pulled away to meet your eyes again. “Well that’s you. You’re my happy ending. Don’t you see that, haven’t I shown you that? You’re my everything, y/n. I need you,” he paused.

Looking deep into your watering eyes, he whispered, “I’m sorry,” before he tore your shirt off your body. The speed of his movements shocked you and you yelped at the action. He backed away slightly to start pulling your sweats down and it gave you the perfect opportunity to try and get away. You pushed yourself off the wall and dashed to the side of him, bounding towards the door. He was quick. Always so quick. He caught you in his arms as you struggled against him.

“Let me go!” You shouted as you continued to kick your legs in a desperate attempt to escape him as his arms held you firm to him, your back to his chest.

“I can’t,” he said in your ear.

“Please,” you quietly cried, “please Bucky.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N, you know that. You have to know that. I just. need. you. If this is what it takes to keep you, then it’s what I have to do. I know you’re not going to listen to me. This is the only way to stop you.”

“But you’ll be okay,” he promised, “it’ll be okay.” He continued as he brought you to your bed. He got your sweats off and left you stunned in your bra and underwear. You were frozen in place. Your mind was racing, trying to comprehend everything that was happening. Trying to figure out how you felt. You didn’t know. This was wrong, obviously. You had volunteered yourself to be the virgin sacrifice that the ritual needed in order to find Wanda - to save Wanda- and here you were about to have your virginity taken from you. But it was the man you loved. The one who promised to keep you safe. The one who you knew would never hurt you. It was Bucky. But still, you argued with yourself, it’s still wrong.

You could understand what Bucky had been saying, though. You could understand his reasoning. If you were being honest with yourself and it were Bucky trying to sacrifice himself to save someone else, you knew you would do anything and everything you could to stop him, too. You were at war with yourself and the noise in your head had successfully drowned out everything- including what had been happening right in front of you. As Bucky leaned down over you on the bed, you realized that he had removed his clothing and as his lips met your bare chest, you realized that he had removed the rest of what was covering you previously. You let out a small gasp at the feeling of him on you. It felt good. So good. How could this be so wrong when it feels like this? your brain tried to reason.

As his mouth trailed down lower you suddenly jolted and tried to sit up but his hands gripped your hips.

“Don’t make this hard, doll. Please. I know you’re scared but just let me. Let me make you feel good. Don’t think about anything else. Just focus on me. I know how long you’ve wanted this. I’ve wanted it to,”

“Not like this, please,” you whined, “Bucky, please! please, please, please, please,” you continued to cry as he gently kissed his way down your stomach until his mouth met your mound. You couldn’t hold in your moan as he sucked your clit into his mouth. The feeling was like nothing you had felt before. It was so different from the way your own fingers felt when you touched yourself. It was incredible. He began to lick you, his tongue moving from swirling your clit to trailing up and down your slit and making his way inside your tight, undeniably wet, hole. Your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled on him as he gripped your hips and moved you closer to him, his hands coming down and moving along from across the tops of your thighs. Moving his right hand, he inserted his pointer and middle finger into you while his tongue never stopped its motions. His left thumb then found your clit and you felt your walls tighten and squeeze around his fingers as your climax quickly approached.

“Bucky - uh- please,” you moaned as tears welled again in your eyes. You weren’t sure what you were pleading for. Still couldn’t decide if you wanted him. Of course you want him, your mind shot at you. It’s all you ever wanted. He’s all you ever wanted.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The conflict raging inside you became all too much. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t stop him- even if you wanted to. So why were you still fighting this. Your mind decided to finally quiet. You couldn’t think of anything as your orgasm overtook you. Your legs shook and tried to close on Buckys head but he didn’t let that phase him as he worked you through your high. Your fingers were still in his hair and you started mindlessly stroking his hair and massaging his scalp as you caught your breath.

You can’t fight him, you thought to yourself. He’s right. I just need to not think about anything else. There’s no point. This is gonna happen. It’s okay to give in. It’ll be okay. It’s Bucky, your mind tried to convince you, you’ll be okay.

Bucky’s groan pulled you out of your head and you looked down just in time to see him finally pull away from you.

“You’re okay,” he reassured you - and himself - as he stared at you with such longing and something akin to sorrow in his eyes. “Everything’s gonna be okay, doll. I promise,” he spoke as his hands softly massaged your thighs. He made his way back up your body until he was hovering over you. Your breaths were coming in quick and shallow as you tried to calm your racing heart. This was it. Bucky was about to take your virginity. There was no going back after this. Not just in terms of the ritual - but in your relationship. Things were never going to be the same after this. You weren’t going to be the same after this.

Bucky leaned down on top of you and met your lips in a tender kiss. It felt like an apology. Like he was trying to get across how he had wanted this to go. Soft and sweet. Gentle and caring. How it should have been. How he had imagined it. He felt terrible. He knew he had scared you, forced you. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He couldn’t fathom the idea of losing you. Especially for something that wasn’t a guarantee. He wouldn’t do it.

He lowered himself down closer to your body, and your tears began to fall anew as you felt him hard against you. This wasn’t right and you were scared. What would the consequences of this be? You couldn’t even begin to imagine. And that wasn’t the only thing that scared you. Would it hurt? As you took a chance and glanced down to where you felt Bucky against you, you whimpered and decided that, yeah, it probably would.

Bucky shushed you as you whimpered and cried. Trying his best to soothe you as he held himself up on his right arm next to your head, his left hand caressed up and down your sides. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck and left light kisses as he whispered sweet nothings trying to distract you.

“Ah-uh-“ you whined through your grit teeth as you felt the tip of him slowly push into you, your hands finding and gripping his biceps.

“Shhh. I know it hurts, sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry. Just breathe. I got you, baby. I got you. It’ll feel good soon, I promise. Just trust me,” he spoke, voice tight, as he continued to push his cock into you. He kissed away your tears that were falling down your face. Once he was fully inside you, he gave you time to adjust to his intrusion, all the while letting out soft moans and groans at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him. He felt you squeeze him and as your hips bucked up without much thought from you, he slowly started to move in and out of you, finding the perfect rhythm as your mouth fell open and you gasped and moaned lowly. He knew it was wrong, but the second he entered you - he felt relief like he never knew. No matter what happened after that, he knew you wouldn’t be able to give yourself for the ritual. You wouldn’t be able to sacrifice yourself. You wouldn’t be able to leave him. And though the anxiety he had been drowning in had left - he was now left with feelings of shame and guilt. He had wanted you for so long - had imagined exactly how it would be. This wasn’t it. He didn’t want to take from you. He had wanted you to give yourself to him freely. If the circumstances had been different , if you hadn’t had been talking about killing yourself for some insane ritual- he would have waited. It would have been perfect. But the circumstances weren’t different and here you found yourselves. It might not have been how he imagined, but it was still you. He still had you. That’s all that really mattered. That’s all he could focus on for now. You and those soft broken noises that left you with his every thrust. The way your hands grabbed at his body, desperately trying to bring him closer to you as you continued to cry.

“I love you, y/n. I need you to know. I’m sorry. I love you,” he panted out as his eyes bore into yours. He quickened his pace, feeling himself inch closer to his climax as you began to tighten around him once again.

“Please,” you begged as you stared back at him, desperate. You were so close, and you knew he must be too.

Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck and you pulled him into an intense and passionate kiss. “I know,” you whispered to him as you pulled away. “I love you,” you said through more tears, holding onto him for dear life. Nuzzling your face into his neck as his fingers found your clit and began to rub you in small, tight circles. Bucky groaned in your ear and you felt him come inside you. Every nerve ending in your body suddenly lit up as you came with him. It wasn’t just your orgasm, though. You also felt a huge surge of power that you had never experienced before. The breath seemed to be sucked out of you as your eyes light up red. In your mind's eye, you saw her. She was in a cabin - it looked like one of the old safe houses you guys had used a while back - before everything went down. She was sitting on the couch - staring at a book closed on the table in front of her. She was crying. You could see it all. You could feel it all. And just as quickly as it came - the vision had gone. Your eyes returned to their normal color and you sucked in a greedy breath as you found yourself staring into Bucky’s terrified eyes as he grabbed you in his arms. You looked to your hands and successfully attempted to ignite your magic. The black glow emitted from your hands easily and the power you had felt when you orgasmed seemed to have stayed with you. You’d never felt so good. So potent. It was incredible.

“Y/n?” he asked, shaking you gently.

“I know where she is,” you breathed. “We need to go. Now.”

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regaliasonata · 6 months

Text

Jungle Fury Random Headcanons and Ideas

@skyland2703 @augment-techs @mo-ok @junglefurytrash went a bit crazy with this one

-Casey is the youngest of five siblings, and is the only boy in the family. He knows how to do makeup and hair.

-Due to his upbringing everyone in the house expected him to be gay, he was kind of dreading having to tell his mother and sisters but they were pretty chill about it.

-His sisters are either quintuplets or triplets and two adopted sisters depending on what you want to go with.

-Despite being the blue ranger Theo didn't develop his animal spirit until after Luen gained his. His parents seem to expect more from him as they were students in a sub school associated with the Pai Zhua.

-Theo's won a Guinness World Record award for karaoke, he claims it's in his blood to be amazing at it.

-Lily grew up within a small apartment in the city, she enjoys all the different foods that a place has to offer. Anything that's new and changing, reminds her of home.

-There's a chance that she trained with Zack and had him as a partner as she did mentioned how she used to do competitive dance competitions.

-RJ's mother passed away when he was young and he kind of blames himself for it. Despite trying to make their relationship better Finn may have blamed him all those years ago for Mrs. James's passing, just a constant reminder of her not being here.

-RJ is amongst one of the only individuals(Like Antonio) to discover the Morphin Grid on his own and is the reason the Pai Zhua has it as access.

-Sometimes just to spite Finn RJ catches fish and attaches them around the shark master's house. That way his air conditioning can smell terrible.

-Dominic flunked out of college, he was studying to become a teacher in geography.

-Casey seems more ticked off with Dominic because of the idea that he might try to go for Jarrod or RJ.

-Jarrod enjoys being around animals as his parents weren’t really around, his mother didn’t really enjoy the prospect of having a boy and his dad would either yell all the time or get pissed off about farm work not doing well so Jarrod cuddling up with a fluffy sheep or even summoning his black lion spirit to sleep next to it’s mane would soothe him.

-Despite all the troubles within the school Master Mao kinda sees Jarrod as his own son(Any of you kingdom hearts fans, cough cough Eraqus and Terra).

-Camille’s hatred of snakes was due to her mother being killed by Naja 10,000 years ago, she’s unaware of this fact but disposing of the snake rinshi felt right when it happened in the show.

-Her eyeshadow is actually a trait of her animal spirits. Animal spirits have way more depth to them as they are the shadow of one’s self, in some cases specific traits about said spirit leak into the person like physical to mental details (example: Camille’s eyeshadow, RJ’s ferocity from his wolf spirit.)

-megazords formed by animal spirits were based on specific influences centuries ago, from totems, giant sculptures like sphinx and even Animus. Some can claim that the guardians of the Pai Zhua were the first people to create earthly megazords within human history.

-mystical beasts or fictional animal like creatures such as the phoenix, azure dragon etc are somewhat rare due to a very small percent of people born with one or those entities giving access to said person. Such as the Phantom Beasts who are based on specific creatures. If Nick or Chip were to come to Pai Zhua and develop a phoenix and Garuda spirit then they’d be a powerful force.

-rinzen and zocalo energy isn’t inherently bad energy but the power is mainly associated with rinshi, the rangers have the potential to access it and even gain phantom beast modes similar to Jarrod and Camille.

-Fran’s animal spirit can range either from a black cat, owl or monkey and gives her abilities based on inner luck or focus making her quite powerful.

-Lily basically adopted Casey as her own little brother.

-Secretly Jarrod wants to pursue cooking or something based in creativity. He didn't touch a kitchen utensil for weeks after seeing kitchen nightmares and it took RJ having to throw the tapes out to get him back into cooking.

-Master Swoop can actually split himself into bat's and has the little shadows spying around the world for any threats. Its kind of creepy but very effective as he can easily have the bat's acting as kamikaze strikers to defeat monsters. Rangers on other teams don't know how threats get taken down but they don't mind, less work load.

-the Pai Zhua has more schools within the world that differentiate in some fighting styles and such. Some schools like the ninja academies try to pick up on their skills but a few of the campuses keep secret.

-Zordon tried to learn about the teachings thousands of years ago as their abilities mixing with the grid gave way for a spike in power with combat but they shunned the wizard away cause of being weary about his motives. Ninjor was welcomed in open arms via the power coins he had. This also explains why Jungle Fury was so scarce with the other teams up until megaforce.

-despite everything the Pai Zhua is nowhere near as moral as they tried to portray themsleves as. Some people can be very toxic in a few areas, Dai Shi had possessed people in the past and with each attempt they tried to have the individuals go mad and die from the experience as a way to rid themselves of the dragon. Casey and the rangers dismantled this ideology after killing the Dai Shi.

-because of her potential the academy sent scouts to try and push Fran to join the academy but RJ quickly shut that down and actually threatened a few of the higher officials because of this.

-Animal spirits talk amongst themselves when the team isn't around. Some play poker when everyone's asleep.

-because of being spirit and mythical based the JF team can handle most of the recurring threats of Zedd and Rita. Plus with their megazords not being mechanical they aren't easily disposed of.

-RJ secretly made JKP into a megazord incase there's an emergency, he met Antonio and added a shitload of symbol power and animal spirit energy to make it a powerful force.

-Lily loves a lot of 80s-90s music and loves to dress in a semi style of Y2K.

-Having no knowledge of Pokemon, Camille and Casey were sat down by Theo and Fran until they were introduced to Gen 4. Camille hacked her Platinum cartridge to get all the mythical and legendary mon events.

-RJ smokes blunts mainly to calm himself, it started as a way to escape the thought of his mother being goin and his father's disapproval.

-Tommy and Jason aren't allowed in Ocean Bluff when it comes to ranger activity because RJ's access to the grid could be useful but he likes to gatekeep and personally team wise if anything happens both him and the group wouldn't enjoy veteran rangers from the first modern team(unless it's billy) coming in and taking over operations.

-Camile and Jarrod jump monsters whenever a mission happens, forget talking, get the job done when needed.

-Casey was fired from the zoo for sleeping in the tiger cage and released all the animals into nice reservations after he was let go.

-Lily was made team leader as Casey doesn't feel too well with getting the role just for being a red ranger.

-Theo is a master at coming up with combo attacks and megazord concepts to the point that rangers like Chip and Max come to him for guidance. He's got quite the reputation in the ranger community for his witty ideas.

-Casey is on a red ranger watch list due to his sword skills, despite keeping their word Jason may have came to the city to demand some aid with their grid research and the two got into a brawl with Casey winning. Him, Jayden and Lauren are all at the top five of said list.

-RJ has dated lots of people but it usually never ends on a perfect note as they were usually relationships with people who took emotional advantage over him. Though he's in a better place within his life to try again with Casey or anyone who actually values him.

-Jarrod listens to a lot of punk music and back at the school Mao got complaints about speakers Blaring music at two in the morning.

-Cam hangs with RJ and shares ideas but he isn't allowed to tell Tommy about any of their conversations. The two may have had a thing in the past.

-Wolf rangers tend to have a powerful aura and they each meet together to talk about business, RJ has a bone themed secret landline he uses to contact them.( @sentinelofstories wolf war 👀😭)

-Due to Dai Shi the JF teams has a disdain for dragons, Serpentera count your days if you ever come back.

-Camille's rinshi form is just armor but was never accepted fully as a rinshi, she only became one to seem worthy in Dai Shi's eyes. The phantom beast hated her for many things and this was one of the reasons, thousands of years ago she murdered three previous members for nearly trying to assassinate her.

-Princess Shayla and the Wild Force rangers are on good terms with the JF team. Merrick follows RJ around like a lost puppy, Taylor spites Theo for being short, Lily tried to get Danny out of his shell. Max tries to explain modern day concepts to Camille, Alyssa and Dominic do small talk and Cole is given death glares from RJ or Jarrod because Casey has caught eyes for him.

-Casey is Gay, Lily is Bi, Theo is a straight ally, Camille and Jarrod are angry bisexuals, RJ is pan, Fran and Dom are unsure of what they are.

-It is unknown if dinosaurs can become animal spirits but Eric actively seeks out Casey to test this theory.

-Casey's favorite red ranger is TJ.

-The team watches movies each Thursday, Everyone except Lily can't handle watching Final Destination.

-it took some time but Jungle Fury had their crossover with RPM and its safe to say things were chaotic. Dillon and Jarrod pretty much had a staring contest with each other, RJ and Flynn got high for the most part, Scott kept crying tears of joy when Casey took him to see their world since it isn't destroyed, Theo wanted to throw himself out the window from hanging with Ziggy, Summer took Lily shopping and Camille was this close to murdering the twins but actually found herself warming up to them, she even went on a date with Gemma.

-Billy is on thin ice for trying to bring Zordon back and while RJ likes the dude he'd prefer that the giant head wouldn’t butt in on all of their affairs.

#power rangers #power rangers jungle fury #jungle fury #mmpr #mighty morphin power rangers #power rangers headcanon #headcanons #prjf #pr #head canon #list

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kalevalakryze · 28 days

Text

talyc mir’am

“Yield.” The smooth monotone rumbled against her back, warm and steady like the rhythm of the golden woman’s heart, thundering beneath the confines of its cage. “Never” Bo-Katan spat, spittle sprinkling against the insides of her helmet. AO3: Here!

For Nitearmor Week Day 1!!!

There was no long list of things that Bo-Katan Kryze wouldn’t do for her people. She’d given Mandalorians and Mandalore everything she had on more than one occasion. With her sacrifices, an unshakable way of thinking was born in the embers of her home as it burned to the ground.

They can hurt you, they can break you, and they can kill you, but they will never rule Mandalore.

When Din Djarin had returned to the planet and found that the only poison in its atmosphere was the sickness in the minds of the survivors, she would have assumed it out of a nightmare, rather than a dream. But they’d returned to the planet, and she was granted the ability to set foot on its ruined surface, to feel the freezing depths of the living waters on her skin once again, and, right from the legends, to see a Mythosaur in all its glory, and to find solace in… Well… They weren’t her people… but they were Mandalorian. And they made her into their people.

She moved through the Children of the Watch with unease, still felt an unknown anxiety clawing at the depths of her innards with each conversation she had with their people, could feel the way sweat perspirated on her brow and dampened the seal around her throat. The planet’s heat didn’t make it much better, and the whispering around each corner only ignited the scorching inferno into a blaze she could not control.

“Cautionary Tale.” Murmured one green and blue painted warrior. “...foredoomed.” She heard another whisper with conviction, as if the woman herself was a walking omen of failure upon failure.

The weight only grew stronger on her shoulders with each meal eaten alone, with each night that found her soaking the aches of warfare in whatever ales she could find hidden aboard her ship. For a rainy day Koska would joke, as if they hadn’t been camping on Trask when she’d created each stash.

The burning of her clan and planet would fade all the same, each night she found solace aboard her Kom’rk and drew shades over the transparisteel, allowing her solace in the comfort of solitude, a perfect attendance for her pity party.

She settled her weight heavily into her pilots chair, allowing her helmet to clatter as she set it at her feet, seat creaking as her head dropped back and the springs adjusted to her weight once again. The neck of the bottle was cool enough to sink into the thick material of her gloves, condensation swating off the glass and pooling in the creases of goraslug leather. “This ones for you, Satine,” She grumbled, low and hoarse as she took a pull from the bottle.

Even the burning of Corellian whiskey couldn’t sate the holes in her bones, was unsuccessful in quenching the fires of a thousand tears from pricking at her heels urging her to run. You’ll burn them too.

There was a rapping of knuckles at the metal ramp to her ship. Desperate to chase away the ghosts she’d made along the way, Bo-Katan had only just remembered to grab up her helmet, allowing the glass bottle to take its place on the floor. Consoles beeped as she smacked the hydraulic release, allowing the ramp to lower as she straightened her demeanor.

Artificial lights caught on the almost bronze gold of a helmet, highlighting the different colors of sunkissed fur along the Armorer’s fur cape as she strode up the ramp. Even in a place where she did not seem as if she belonged, the woman took up space, her presence was one that demanded to be known, even if the deity herself was one accustomed to shadows.

Like a band snapping back into place, Bo-Katan found that her muscles tensed, her knees locked against her better judegment, and her chin rose. A way to say I belong here, even when the evidence proved otherwise. “Can I help you?” The Nite Owl queried, fighting to keep her hands stagnated at her side as her chin bowed, watching as the Armorer came just within a step of herself.

The shorter womans head did not move, she couldn’t make anything out with the damned helmet concealing every reaction she was trained to read. All she could do was wait with bated breath until she could watch the other woman’s hands move just a fraction away from the tools at her belt. “I would like to see you in action…” Her smooth timber seemed to echo across the durasteel walls all around them.

Bo-Katan paused then, brows furrowing beneath the protection of her helmet. “The pirates…” She allowed herself to trail off then. Saving Ragnar, bringing the covert younglings… It was yet another example of how she could just never give enough of herself to satisfy anyone…

“In a controlled setting. I would like to see you in action where a life is not at stake.” The Armorer clarified, there was nothing mocking in her tone, but a playfulness, something almost like a familiarity that resided in the discordant notes of her vocoder. Bo-Katan bristled in unease when she realized she could not tell if she hated being seen, or if the first pair of eyes to see her through that dark tint was enough to crack through her own metaphysical beskar.

Swallowing thickly, Bo-Katan nodded her agreement; she’d never been one to turn down a fight, perhaps a one-day fatal flaw of hers, though one she had no intention of giving up anytime soon.

When the Armorer turned to sweep from the depths of self immulation and despair, Bo-Katan followed close on her heels as she could get without earning herself a second look. The ghosts did not need to see the light of day, these people did not deserve to be burdened by her failures any moreso than they already were. “Where are we going?” She rasped as they passed by quiet tents, the sounds of dead night creeping into her bones.

“The shore.” The warrior spoke as if it were the only logical place, as if Bo-Katan had done more than follow in Din’s footsteps, careful not to step a toe out of line in fear that she would lose this too.

The sand was uneven under her boots, pebbles and shells crunching under her weight as they moved from dry sand into the muck of what had been left from the tide, sodden greenery picking into the tracks of their boots and refusing to let go. The Armorer moved across this ground as if it were a minefield, and she laid all the charges, while Bo seemed to blunder into every treat waiting to wrap itself around her ankles and make a home in her greaves.

“Do you have any limits?” The Armorer questioned as a circle was slowly dragged through the sand, leaving Bo-Katan clueless in the center.

“What? Oh-” A pause, a blink, and a deep breath. No Mandalorian had ever been willing to set ground rules for a sparring match before, no one bothered to learn each other’s limits. The vode at your side would be dead if they made a limit, she’s testing you. “I’m alright.”

The dark visor turned to stare at her, contemplating for a moment. “Alright…” A gloved hand rose towards her own throat, thick leather padded fingers pulling ar the seal of cloth around her throat. “This is my limit. Nothing above the shoulders, please.”

The admission of a weakness, of a preferred place to stray from an attack, was staggering; How could she believe they were born from the Watch, when she herself had killed recruits for as much as the Armorer was doing now, when Pre had so willingly tossed away Mandalorian lives, because they admitted weakness… Was that strength? Or was it a trait she could only see as a strength in the Armorer?

Her throat felt too dry to speak, so she nodded her head in understanding, marking the memory in the stone of her brain. The dying torchlight caught off the Armorer’s visor, setting the various golden tones of her helmet ablaze. The two stood in silence, waiting for the other to make the first move with bated breath.

The dirt crunched under her boots as she sprung forward, the rermaining alcohol in her system burnning through her muscles as they remembered the thrill of sparring over fighting for her life. She moved slower than normal, ensuring she would not pass the Armorer’s boundary while still being able to test the woman’s speed against a flurry of punches and jabs of the knee, all redirected to a point where the Niteowl could redirect the energy into another hit.

Bo-Katan’s breath was ragged, fogging up the material of her visor as she worked to land a hit, the metal of her hand plates making an awful scraping sound each time her fist managed to drag across the crimson beskar of the shorter woman’s armor.

A leather gloved hand curled tight around her gauntlet, fingers curled just enough to avoid triggering the canisters that would ignite to bathe them all in flame. Squaring her shoulders and pushing back against the restraining force, Bo-Katan Kryze bared her teeth beneath her helmet, offering only a primordial growl as she struggled through the sheer power descending upon her.

She’s fought stronger, after all. The Armorer wouldn’t prove too much of a challenge, once she inevitably went to make an attempt on Bo’s life. She knew it was coming, anyways…

The armorer managed to wind Bo-Katan’s arm behind her back, wrenching the limb and pulling overworked muscles further than the beskar constructing her body would typically allow her to go. “Yield.” The smooth monotone rumbled against her back, warm and steady like the rhythm of the golden woman’s heart, thundering beneath the confines of its cage.

“Never” Bo-Katan spat, spittle sprinkling against the insides of her helmet. The Nite Owl bent at the waist and jerked her hips backwards, upending the Armorer’s steady footing and sending her backwards. The weight against her back was gone in the clinging of armor against the dirt, moonlight reflecting up at Bo-Katan from the dark void of the shorter woman’s visor.

Her breathing was distorted, coming in harsh gasps and leaving through the painful exhales that concaved her body and threatened to crush her ribs, audible through her vocoder, a complete contrast to the Armorer’ who’s chest appeared to still rise and lower as if she’d no more than laid herself down of her own volition. The silence between them was thick with tension as Bo-Katan gathered herself for what was next. Would she try to sweep her legs from beneath her? Would she produce a blaster and put plasma in the space between her chestplace and abdomen plate? Or would she simply order her to leave? Anxieties prickled into dangerous territory the longer time slugged forward, until at last, Bo-Katan’s head dropped along with her shoulders, content to leave the woman in the dust if it meant she could save herself the shame of being verbally sent away.

“Raise your head,” Brows furrowing, the redhead watched uselessly as the other woman rose from the ground, tracked the way a gloved hand raised, then lowered back to her side, before finally crossing the distance to meet the underside of her helmet.

Her touch was gentle, fingers gently curling around the rim of her helmet, if only to raise her chin herself, until the Armorer was forced to tilt her own chin to keep looking at her.

Bo-Katan swallowed thickly, chewing on the inside of her cheek as her eyes flickered towards the night sky, always finding the twinkling lights of the Mandalore system in the depths of the sky. The silence didn’t seem so thick here, as the Armorer’s fingers stayed curled around her helmet, and the nightlife around them seemed to release its own breath, critters and the like resuming with their nightly symphony all around them.

It seemed an eternity that they stayed in such a state, Bo-Katan, mesmerized by the stars that reflected from the top of the Armorer’s helmet, and the goran’alor herself, mesmerized in an entirely different view of the woman from the legends.

She didn’t want to leave, and while that was a fact Bo-Katan knew since Din had brought her to his people, it was stranger to realize that it was the Armorer’s presence that she didn’t want to leave the most. “I must retire…” She spoke at last, always the one to hold the blade that would sever her own connections to any form of tranquility.

“Of course…” The Armorer seemed shaken from her own stupor as her arm dropped back to her side. As she went to turn back into the direction of her tent, her head turned back, watching as Bo-Katan fidgeted in the moonlight. “And Bo,” The Mandalorian went rigid at the name, head cocking to the side as she focused her sole attention back on the shorter woman. “Mandalorians are stronger together.”

Leaving Bo-Katan with her final statement, something she could only hope to understand through their coming trials and tribulations, the Armorer did not offer a second glance, leaving Bo-Katan to watch her disappear into the darkness of the camp before slogging her way back to her ship, hopeful to catch enough sleep to function for the attack on Nevarro.

#nitearmor week 2024 #nitearmor #armorkatan #bo katan kryze #bo-katan kryze #the armorer #star wars #the mandalorian #fanfic #day one: tension

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astrosky33 · 2 years

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this asteroid is sooo underrated and one of my favorite asteroids. it shows what you have to do in order to receive the things you want in life as well as how you can make your dream life your reality

code: 66391

MOSHUP IN THE 1ST HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life you need to become more confident in your abilities and be more ambitious. you may also need to change your outlook on life and the way you approach your goals. you may not be motivated enough as well so try and incorporate things into your life that increase your motivation

MOSHUP IN THE 2ND HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life you need to find things that bring you stability and you need to be more stubborn with what you want and not take no for an answer. you may tend to give up easily without trying hard enough. you may also need to bring less value to material things and possessions and learn to balance your finances better

MOSHUP IN THE 3RD HOUSE

to achieve in the things you want in life you need to be more outgoing and communicate more with people. you may also need to share your thoughts more because your thoughts are the key to your success. you have a brilliant mind that needs to be shared with the world. it may also mean that your negative thoughts prevent you from success

MOSHUP IN THE 4TH HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life you need to come out of your comfort zone but it’s also important to have time to yourself and have something that brings you comfort when you’re not working on your career or anything else. you may also need to let your emotions out regularly and not suppress them all the time because this could cause you to go into a state where you feel you can’t do anything and are too scared to come out of your comfort zone

MOSHUP IN THE 5TH HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life you need to work on your talents. you may or may not be aware of the talent already and if not you need to discover what your talent is but, if you do know your talent you need to work on it and become even better than you already naturally are. you may also need to creatively express yourself more and have some type of creative outlet

MOSHUP IN THE 6TH HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life you need to create a routine/schedule to keep you on track. you may be the type of person who isn’t into doing the same things in your day to day life but this will actually bring you lots of success if you continuously work at the things you want in your daily life and are working harder and harder routinely everyday

MOSHUP IN THE 7TH HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life you need to show more concern for the things you’re passionate about and not dismiss them. you need to form more partnerships as well to bring you farther in life but also not get too caught up in relying on others for anything. you need to have a good balance between doing things for yourself and doing things for others

MOSHUP IN THE 8TH HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life although this is a challenging placement you may need to move past some unresolved trauma you have. you also need to embrace the good AND bad transformations you have in life and know that everything will work out for the best

MOSHUP IN THE 9TH HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life you need to be more optimistic and you need to expand your knowledge on topics you’re interested in. you may have poor ethics as well and if so your ethics need to be improved to go farther in life. you may actually succeed more in a foreign country that you weren’t born in as well. you need to also enjoy the journey on your pathway to success

MOSHUP IN THE 10TH HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life you need to set more goals for yourself regularly (short and long term). you need to not care so much about your public image/reputation as well and do your own thing and not take value in others opinions of you. you may need to be more responsible and take care of things you don’t want to as well

MOSHUP IN THE 11TH HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life you need to form connections and network with others. this doesn’t mean to only rely off knowing others to get you farther! you need to also be kind to everyone and friendly and try not to burn bridges with anyone. don’t let anyone get in the way of yours wishes and dreams and don’t let anyone make you think they’re unattainable

MOSHUP IN THE 12TH HOUSE

to achieve the things you want in life try not to isolate yourself too much. it is important for you to have time alone yes but, come outside of your comfort zone more often. you may have some spiritual challenge blocking you from becoming successful as well (this challenge can be up to interpretation based upon your own life experiences and spiritual self). you need to also never limit your belief in what you’re capable of. your subconscious minds fears could be holding you back

for more asteroid info subscribe to my patreon where i post exclusive content that isn’t on my socials

HOW TO FIND ASTEROIDS 👁

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MY MASTERLIST 📚

#astrology #zodiac #astro community #astro placements #astrology tumblr #astro chart #birth chart #asteroid astrology

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gurugirl · 2 years

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Tales From the Modern Incubus Part 12*

Summary: You’re still hiding in 1986 with Harry and you learn some important information about your real parents and their intentions for you. But Michael, Lilith, Hannah, and Asmodeus are having issues finding you, which could complicate their plan.

A/N: Remember, this is demon/incubus!Harry so there may be some triggering topics. Please read all warnings in the TFMI Masterlist before continuing.

Warning: Smut, demons and angels plotting, mentions of blood, mention of torture, mentions of spells and incantations, religious themes

Characters List

Part 11*

Part 12*

Angels and demons have a lot more in common than most people realize (some probably don’t know that they are alike at all). People who practice or put their values in the Abrahamic faiths would assume that angels are good and demons are bad. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, all original and high demons were once angels. Angels are fallible and just as predisposed to sin and immorality as demons and humans are. In fact many demons who walk the realms are half human and half demon. They didn’t choose their fate, nor did they do anything to be born of a demon, but once they are born, they are automatically a demon by blood with no say to the contrary. The stain of their parent is on them forever and therefore they are painted ‘bad’ by human standards and that is perpetuated by people who read and believe the Bible, which The Almighty does nothing to correct. By contrast, many angels who walk the realms are also only half angel. But, because of their blood, they are given the mark of good by humanity without further thought to whether they’re actually good or bad (which would be determined by their actions and not their bloodline – but humans are naturally quite prejudiced so it’s easier to just say an angel is good and a demon is bad).

Angels and demons are also alike in that they are physically superior to humans in every way. Not only are they more beautiful and alluring (despite what may have been said about how ugly and scary demons are – yet another lie The Almighty does nothing to stop), but they are also extremely strong and can outperform any elite athlete. Their stamina is incredible, and they can be unstoppable under the right circumstances, especially because they also don’t need to sleep. Resting is good, but sleep is never necessary. The original angels created were meant to be helpers and workers for The Almighty. He wanted his workers to be strong and never tire of their job.

They are also extremely intelligent with highly developed cerebral cortexes and the ability to retain and learn faster and more efficiently than humans. This was useful to The Almighty as well. A perceptive and sharp worker is ideal for any type of job, especially when dealing with humans.

And, of course, with all of that in mind, both angels and demons rarely tire of sex. Physically, they can keep going until they’ve had their fill. Angels and demons have a greater appetite for sex than humans do and they do it better as well. Humans enjoy sex too, a lot. It drives much of the way they think and do things. But it can’t be compared to the way angels and demons get around from one being to another. They’re all beautiful whores.

So, to say that you and Harry had a long night together the first time you had sex, well, that’s an understatement. You lost your virginity with the biggest bang ever. You and Harry went on for nearly twelve hours. There were a couple of breaks where you talked and went to the bathroom and rehydrated, but there weren’t clothes involved and you were both sticky and smelly by the time Aim contacted you two.

Harry was just about to come again and you were wobbly and out of your mind from your last orgasm. You were holding onto the couch, bent over as Harry was hammering himself inside of you. He’d also introduced a thumb into your bum to prep you for his cock so you were both working on that. It was something he told you that you’d like and of course, the way his digit felt inside of you as you peaked and clenched over his cock you knew he was right. He’d really used your cunt for hours (just as you’d used his cock) and so when he suggested trying anal and sunk his thumb in while he was mid-fuck, you saw stars and Jesus and you cried out in praise of Harry’s name when you creamed on him.

The phone rang and you both looked over at the ancient, corded device on the wall as it trilled loudly and shook itself in the receiver. Harry looked down to where he was stuffed inside of you and closed his eyes.

“Fuck!” Harry growled and pulled himself out of you. His cock was hard and he had to hold himself as he walked across the room to answer the phone. You collapsed your body onto the couch and closed your eyes for a moment.

“’Lo?” Harry stood at the wall and looked over at you, hips draped over the arm of the couch, tummy down with your face in the cushion, your naked ass pink and bruised and his, he smiled.

Aim’s voice sounded far away through the speaker, “Harry, I can’t stay on long. We’ve found out some interesting things and I’ll be coming to tell you about it in person. You two are safe there for now so you’ll stay where you are for the time being. Expect to see me in five hours.” And then the call ended.

Harry felt relief that you were both safe. He returned to you on the couch, still holding his cock in hand and you twisted to look up at him, your hair a mess.

“Aim said we’re safe for now. He’ll be here in about five hours to give us some information. You okay?” Harry leaned over your back and smoothed his palms over your bottom where he’d bitten you, spanked you, pinched you…

You smiled widely and turned over, exposing your breasts and tummy and the bit of hair between your legs that was coated in come (both yours and his). You had little marks all over your body. Harry was a bit rough but you were a hybrid and you could handle it and you turned out to be just as rough as he was. You put a hand up to Harry’s clavicle and scraped your nail over the scratches you’d left on him. His cock was red hot and throbbing still.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt better in my whole life. Gonna get that back inside of me? Finish yourself off? I know you were so close.” You gestured toward his thick erection as you spread your legs for him. Harry groaned and squeezed your tits as he buried himself back into your pretty pussy. Every time he plunged into you it never failed to make him gasp in shock. Your cunt was made for him (or maybe his cock was made for you?) and he had no idea how he’d gone his whole life without this feeling.

“Fuck, Harry. You feel so good inside of me. Give me your come… Mmm… yeah… fuck it like that. Come on… want it to fill me up. Shit…” you had no shame with your words during sex. You caught on quick to what Harry liked. Lots of praise, lots of encouragement, plenty of dirty words and orgasms… you were better than anyone Harry had been with, and he’d been with countless people. You were still learning but he was obsessed with how eager you were and he couldn’t love you more than he did. You were perfect.

Harry was nearly snarling, his muscles working his thighs to rail into you. You kept speaking, “Love that big cock, Harry. I love you. Fuck… you’re really deep like that. Need your come, Harry…” and you did want his come. It was like somehow it gave you life and made you feel like one. The more he poured into you, the closer you felt to him. It was like he was leaving traces of himself inside of you and you wanted more.

He grunted and moaned loudly when he released inside of you for the, well, you both had lost count of how many times, but it was a lot. He came inside of you and on you all night and into the morning. It’s why you were so sticky. You had dried come on your legs, your tummy, your hair, your tits… And Harry was just as dirty as you were. You’d smeared yourself all over him (at his request at first) so he could smell like you all night. His arm hair was matted to his flesh with your dried arousal, his knees and thighs the same. He had your juice dried all over his neck, ears, and his hands… You two were probably due for a shower.

Harry collapsed over you and sighed, “I love you. Fuck…” he breathed hard and kept himself inside of you. He’d been quite liberal with the use of the ‘L’ word. He’d found someone that could handle him. He’d had sex with other demons before, but never someone he had feelings for so this was different. He’d had round after round of sex with the same being many times, but not like this. He could keep going and going and so could you.

You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair and brought his hand up to your mouth to kiss. It smelled like you and you laughed softly to yourself. You wrapped your legs around Harry’s waste and squeezed him closer to your body. Harry’s face was in your neck and he let out a muffled moan before pushing himself up to look down at you, his messy girl.

The black of your eyes had gone, as Harry’s had. Now his eyes were that beautiful soft and light flecked green that had you weak in the knees. He brought his hand, that you’d been kissing, over your lips and swiped his thumb at your tongue. You tasted yourself on him, it was the thumb he’d had inside your ass. You giggled as you kept your tongue out and he pushed it into your mouth as he smiled broadly at you.

“Suck.” He said as he watched your lips wrap around his thumb and you felt him still hard and long inside of you as he began to move his hips upward again. You rolled your eyes into the back of your head at how good it felt.

You were both incredibly wet between your legs so when Harry’s thrusts began to get a little harder it sounded like wet sex in the room. Slippery and drippy. You’d also learned you were a squirter. But, obviously you were. Harry’s big cock hit your g-spot, rubbed into it firmly once he was seated inside of you, and then he pushed into other things inside of you and if he angled himself just right and then pulled out you’d squirt all over the place. He'd done it to you the first time when you were riding him. You felt the pressure, something different than just the build of an orgasm, a really deep pressure and then he lifted you off his cock and you poured over his tummy and his dick and his groin, down to his balls. Then he did it again and put his face over your pussy so he could drink it and swallow it down. He didn’t want to waste any of your juices.

But now his large dick was stuffed nicely inside of you and he rolled into you hard. Your mouth went slack and you exposed your neck as your eyes went black again. Harry kept his thumb in your mouth and you went back to sucking on it after the initial moment of bliss. Harry was going in a brutal pace now and your pussy gripped his cock harshly. The way he massaged your walls as he spread you apart felt like love and everything good in the world. You smiled around his thumb as you felt him deep in your body. You felt him attach his mouth and bite into your neck as he sucked, bruising you up right away. He licked over your salty sweaty skin and bit down again, an inch lower, creating another small wound from his teeth that made you bleed just a little. He loved how your blood tasted. He wasn’t a vampire or anything like that, but he liked a little blood now and then. Especially yours.

When he moved his lips to the other side of your neck and bit down on a recent mark you came. The pain zipped down your neck and over your breasts, giving you goosebumps as your orgasm fell over you. You also learned you enjoyed a little pain. Actually, you really enjoyed a little pain. Harry found that it made you come really fast, not that he wanted to rush sex with you but he was amazed by how you responded to it.

Harry cried out when you bit down on his thumb and scratched his back, ripping the flesh under your nails and he spilled inside of you. This was a quick round. Many of them were. There were some rounds that went on for a lot longer where you both took your time and switched positions (Harry showed you all kinds of way you could be fucked).

You both panted and Harry removed his thumb and kissed your mouth. Could you call this romantic? It felt like the most romantic night (and morning) you’d ever get in your life. You used to imagine romance as a sweet date night out somewhere and then a kiss at the end of the night, and if you were married a nice love-making session, maybe a bath and flowers. But this? A sweaty, dirty, painful, all-nighter filled with orgasms and bruises and come… This was your ideal now. Nothing else would do. Your body was spent but every single time your lips met and your gazes locked you were ready to go again. Harry too. Your libidos were matched perfectly. Even though Harry was half-human, half-demon, his demon-type was incubus, which made his libido higher than most demons or angels. And for you, your father was Asmodeus, the demon of lust and debauchery. You were your father’s daughter by blood and so you and Harry had that in common with one another. Already libidinous, both of you being supernatural, but your specific demon types made your thirst for the carnal something very intense.

After a necessary shower and you both had been cleaned and finally ate something, Aim arrived to give you the news in person. He couldn’t tell you on the phone line because a call from the year 2022 to 1986 used very specific rituals that altered existence and time, which could be uncovered by high demons and angels. The shorter the call the better.

You all sat in the living room together. Aim was dressed sharp again, a suit and tie, expensive shoes, and a Patek Philippe watch on his wrist.

“You two have enjoyed 1986 I gather?” He sniffed the air and shook his head as he breathed out a laugh. The smell of sex would linger for some time. You two had sex on nearly every surface in every room.

“Yes. Not that we’ve gotten out much.” Harry laughed at his obvious inuendo, “What do you have, Aim?” You tried not to feel embarrassed about it, all the sex Aim knew you’d had and the way it smelled, it had been quite apparent. But you knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Those feelings were remnants of your earthly upbringing, slowly fading away. You were taught that sex was shameful and something to be hidden and never talked about. But now you were realizing that sex wasn’t shameful. It was beautiful and it’s what made the world go round. Without sex, there would be no life.

“Tamie has given them your name, Harry. She had to. Or she would be facing the same fate you might be if they find you. That means you are being hunted, which we figured was going to happen anyway. However, they did release her, not without some severe consequences to her holding off as long as she could. She likely saved your life by buying you time. She endured some serious torture at the hands of your real mother.” Aim shook his head and sighed.

“What? My mother? Isn’t she an angel?” You asked.

Aim lifted his brows toward you and nodded, “Yes. She is a high angel. But there’s something you’ll learn very soon, and that is that all angels and demons are capable of hurting and helping just the same. Not one is worse than the other. I’m surprised she let Tamie go, to be quite honest.”

You looked up a Harry who had sat next to you on the ugly brown sofa with a cream and orange flower pattern fabric covering it. You would need to protect him. Whatever it took. If someone hurt Harry…

“So, here’s what Tamie has told us… Your real parents wanted to create a powerful hybrid being who would know humanity well. Grow up among humans, learn with the humans, and feel like a human. Then, at the age of 25, Y/n, you were meant to meet the son of Michael and Lilith. Another very powerful hybrid. He’s still on earth and as far as we know, unaware of his power, just like you were until Harry came around. Which means you’ve got a bit of a head start. Michael and Lilith’s son is named Adam. He’s meant to be your mate. You two would then procreate and the most perfect and powerful being would then come to be and this being would be more powerful than even The Almighty himself. Or at least that’s what the idea was. Your supposed son or daughter would then be their ticket to overthrow all the kingdoms and take over power of all the realms. I believe that is their purpose in this.

“I don’t know how they intended to go about having you and Adam meet one day, but I’m sure they had a specific plan in place. Tamie didn’t get all the details but, we did learn that the four of them are now on watch for you both. And anyone associated with you. So far, they haven’t approached anyone. They’re working the ground and gathering information. I’ve already been aware of the presence of Lilith and your real father on me. They are aware that Tamie has given us information. I don’t know why they haven’t just come and taken me or cornered me and questioned me on your whereabouts, but something tells me things are about to get a lot more intense and soon. I may consider hiding as well because I’m not sure I’m safe. I don’t think anyone is.”

Harry is silent. The look on his face says he’s deep in thought and you can feel the bit of worry coming from him. He’s worried about you and about himself. But now he’s also thinking about this Adam who is your intended mate. He can’t compete with a full hybrid, half high angel, half high demon, when he himself is only half demon and half human. He’s not going to be able to defend you, to save you, to keep you safe… and if you should choose to be with someone more powerful, well, Harry could easily be replaced. And he wouldn’t blame you. If he’s very honest, you deserve to be with someone more powerful than he is. Adam would probably be better for you. Sure, Harry is handsome, smart, great at conversation, funny, charming, and has a big dick, but he can’t compete with the kind of power that Adam would have. And, if you were to choose Adam and you decided to reproduce with him, you’d have the most powerful heir to exist and could potentially make history by leading the revolution to overthrow The Almighty. Choosing Harry and having his heir would create a somewhat-powerful being (less powerful than you because it would be mixed with incubus and human), but nothing like what you could with Adam. Not a very exciting historical moment in comparison. But he’s trying to stay focused and confident because even if he can’t compete, he won’t be going down without a fight. He’d do anything for you.

You take Harry’s hand and look at him, wanting to get his attention but he keeps his eyes forward on Aim. You know he’s a little upset. You sort of wish he wasn’t so sensitive but you’ll to reassure him again if necessary. When you look at his profile and smell his natural scent, he’s all you can think of and he’s the only one you want. You can’t imagine ever wanting someone the way you want him. You also don’t like the idea that you’d be pre-arranged to meet someone and have his child. You didn’t desire that kind of relationship, nor the power that seemed to come with it. You were going to make your own path and you were bringing Harry with you through it.

“So what now? Do we stay here? Should we move somewhere else? We can’t keep hiding forever.” Harry spoke and you could feel his heart pounding. For some reason you felt much calmer than he did. His reaction to this news was more of a concern to you than the actual news.

“Stay here for now. I have something else in the works for where you will go next. You may just keep hiding and jumping from year to year to keep safe for a while. But, Y/n… we will need to have you begin using your intuition and power for this. I may not be able to contact you at some point and you’ll have to be in-tune in order to protect yourself. You have the ability but it might be something you need to practice a little. Harry, you’re safe with her, for now. She can protect you better than I can.”

Aim left and the world felt quiet again, but Harry was trying not to spiral in his thoughts. He stood up and walked toward the window to look out. He didn’t want to lose you to someone else and he was worried what this meant for him. He’d gone after the wrong girl and now his life is in danger. Wrong girl or not, though, he wouldn’t be deterred too easily. He felt like he was already beginning to bond to you. But he couldn’t be sure. He’d never bonded with anyone before. A bond between two beings is far more severe than just love. Love isn’t final. It isn’t forever. People fall in and out of love just like angels and demons do. A bond is eternal. It’s unbreakable.

“I’m worried. I’ve never been in this kind of situation and not having control of the outcome feels suffocating. And Adam… if he sees you and feels your presence he’s going to want you and I can’t compete with that.”

You followed Harry to where he stood with his back to you and pushed your arms around him, kissing the wide plane of his back between his shoulder blades.

“Why are you worried about that? Do you not trust me?” You spoke as you turned your head, cheek to his back, so your words could come out clearly.

Harry turned to you and he put his hands up to your face, he had vertical frown lines between his eyes at the top bridge of his nose, “I trust you. I just don’t know that you’ll choose me over him. In the end. I wouldn’t blame you.”

You laughed softly and smiled at him, “Well, you’re going to just have to accept how I feel then, aren’t you? You kind of sound like you’re just giving up, assuming I’ll leave you for someone I’ve never even met. Maybe I’m just not worth the trouble to you now that you know I’m dangerous to be with. Perhaps dodging out now is best for you so you’re trying to make it look like it’s me who would choose someone other than you.”

You were bating him. You knew that wasn’t his intention but you figured turning it around on him could make him see things differently. It did. His grin and the dimple that appeared before he lowered his face to kiss your lips was all you needed to know. You wanted to see that man who was confident and captivating. His natural swagger and charm were attractive and that’s how you wanted to see him. You were glad he could voice his insecurities and be honest with you, but he didn’t need to feel insecure.

“Fuck that,” he spoke against your lips, “I’m not letting you go that easy. Just feeling like I couldn’t compete. You can choose who you want and I’ll do anything I can to make you want me over anyone else.” Harry stood up straight and looked over your head and then out the window, “Wanna get outta here for a little bit? See what’s in the area?”

Lilith had been following Aim. She knew he’d gone somewhere and used a specific incantation ritual that meant he’d time traveled. She couldn’t know where he went without cornering him and making him talk but she didn’t want to notify too many people of the problem. Kidnapping Aim or making him talk would be big news. Aim was a legion leader, not the most powerful of the Dukes of Hell, but an important leader and there would be upset demons. It would upset Lucifer. Satan wouldn’t care, and God couldn’t give two shits, but Lucifer was someone they had to deal with daily and it just wasn’t worth it to get him riled up. They needed to keep this quiet.

Especially because Hannah had already kidnapped a watcher and now that watcher was talking. Tamie was a loose thread, a threat to their plan. She should have been done away with. Having a missing watcher was easier than having one that was tortured and now spilling details. Lilith was annoyed at Hannah. Sure, it was a bad idea to kill a watcher or any being because it would draw attention, but it could be done without anyone being aware of it. At least not until things started to be put into motion.

Because Hannah let Tamie go, along with you aware of what was going on (before you should be aware of it) they were going to have to begin the phases of getting Adam ready. Michael wasn’t worried about Harry. A simple half incubus, he would not be a threat in the end. There was no way you’d not want Adam after seeing him and realizing his strength and power. Harry was attractive of course, as all incubi were, but Adam was something else altogether. He was quite the specimen and he’d be far more fit for you than Harry. You’d see it soon enough, or so they hoped. And if not, well, Harry would be dealt with and you’d never see nor hear from him again as soon as they got their hands on him anyway.

Which was another problem, they didn’t know where you and the incubus were. Lilith reported to Asmodeus that you were likely in another time period, being hidden away. With Harry. And if you bonded with Harry (what a tragic mistake that would be) it would be that much more difficult to get you to side with them. This entire thing was turning into a disaster and it was all because you were sniffed out by a horny incubus who became obsessed with you.

Hannah followed your earth parents but found that they also didn’t know where you were. In fact, Enzo and Gwyn had started asking around to find out if anyone knew of your whereabouts. They were astonished to find that even Amanda, your best friend, didn’t know where you were. And you hadn’t been answering your calls or texts. They immediately began suspecting Harry. He was a mystery to them, someone they didn’t know and hadn’t had a chance to really talk to. They wondered if he’d done something to you.

It had only been about a day and half that you’d been missing at this point so they thought maybe you’d still show up. But they were worried and none of your friends seemed to know where you were. Which told Hannah that you’d gone into hiding. Harry’s house was empty, and they kept their own watchers on the lookout there as well as at your parent’s house.

Michael had begun to get Adam ready. The first step in the process was to slowly allow the reveal of his powers. Like you, Adam had always had some extra receptive senses, which he’d grown used to all his life. But now the time had come to let him see a little more of what he could do. It was a bit too early for their plan, but now it was necessary.

Adam lived on the opposite coast of the United States to you. It was intentional that you both would meet at the age of 25, not before, at a job you’d both take at that time. You two would naturally be drawn to one another, both being hybrids with supernatural abilities, you’d both slowly come into your powers and learn about yourselves together and you’d bond over it. It would create a closeness and you’d both be inseparable. That was the plan anyway. And it would have worked. Had Harry not come into the picture.

But there was nothing they could do about you at the moment. They’d find you soon enough and work on convincing you to fall into their plan. First, they’d need Adam on their side and then they’d get rid of Harry once they found him.

You and Harry quickly learned that the neighborhood you were in didn’t have much around. The grocery store was walking distance from the house, there was an Italian deli next to the school, a church behind the park, a nearby interstate with loud traffic, a flower shop, and a gas station.

You and Harry sat in the park and ate sandwiches you’d gotten from the deli and you noticed that you two were getting a few weird looks. You weren’t dressed in anything too trendy but your clothes and probably your hair made you stick out a bit. The 80s style and the fit of the clothes were different than what you’d both been sporting.

“Don’t worry about them. They probably just think we’re from a different country or something. You can fake an accent like me and tell them you’re from London.” He laughed and crossed his long legs. You were both sitting in the grass and enjoying the sun as it went down.

You couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d do when you got back to the house. Sex was very new to you and liked it a lot. Your hormones were going crazy and Harry’s body and his voice, the smile he kept giving you, god you could just jump his bones right in front of everyone. So you pulled yourself to your hands and knees, forgetting all about the sandwich you were eating and crawled into Harry’s lap, making him sit his sandwich down. You straddled his thighs and put your arms over his shoulders and kissed him.

Harry was happy to give up his sandwich and his lap for you. He leaned back to give you more space as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back. You wrapped your lips around his and then slid your hands into his hair. Your heart was pounding and you didn’t care that anyone could see you making out in the grass. There were kids running around, people walking their dogs in the park so there was a decent amount of activity going on around you.

“Mmm… can we make ourselves invisible? Like what you did when you first met me? Have sex right here in front of everyone? Or will that be bad using our powers? Aim said to lay low…” You leaned back and looked at the handsome demon. The beautiful demon.

“Fuck. I don’t think we should, just in case. Maybe we’ll do that another time, though. Hmm? Wanna get my cock stuffed inside that little pussy right in front of everyone?” He bucked himself upward as he spoke and you sighed at the feeling. Knowing it was yours. All yours. You could wait until you were back at the bungalow to rip his clothes off if you needed to but you really wanted him now.

“Yes. That’s what I want. Right in front of everyone.” You rolled your hips down over Harry, “Maye we could even let everyone hear it. They’d be listening in to really hot, sex, some spanking maybe, and when we come they’d know they were hearing two people fucking, but just couldn’t see it. Wouldn’t know where it was coming from. God, doesn’t that sound hot?” You nudged yourself closer and Harry grasped your bottom.

“It sounds naughty. That’s going on the list of things to try at some point. Fuck. My dirty girl. Are you ready to go back to the house? Want more of me already?” Harry’s grin was salacious. His cock was already growing hard. “Yes, please. Feels like it’s been too long since you’ve been inside of me.”

Part 13*

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