#Law “If you start fighting go out somewhere into the forest. I don't want you to break some more of my exhibits” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jumpingjelliefish · 2 years

Note

Can you do a Toby X male reader where Toby goes maniac about reader because he talked to “unapproved people” Feel free to make it a nsfw or just a sfw I LOVE your Jeff tk one so much!

Of course, my dear! I'm happy you enjoyed my Jeff the Killer one-shot! Now I'm here to make one for you! :)

[Toby x M Reader] (SFW)

————-<3

"What the- What the f-fuck do you think you w-were doing?" Toby screams at you. He pulls you by your wrist to the car he just broke into. Your eyes go wide as you try to re-think your actions, what had you done to get him this aggravated?

He looks at you with the most enraged look he has ever given you. You are shoved into the back of the vehicle. He slams the door behind you and climbs into the driver's seat. "I can't believe you would do something like- something like that!" He starts the car and rips off the face mask he’s wearing, you can see his snarl.

He shoots you a glare through the rear-view mirror, "J-just- just wait till we get somewhere- somewhere more private." You whimper in the backseat of the car. Toby is swerving around cars, disobeying most traffic safety laws. He huffs and grumbles; his shoulders are tense.

Your surroundings become that of a forest, the car bouncing with every pothole in the dirt road. Toby screeches the car to a secluded spot. He huffs as he climbs out of the car. He opens the door closest to you and pushes you onto your back. He smirks as your eyes reflect your fear. He straddles your legs and pins your arms over your head with one of his hands.

"You really thought you could- you could get away with talking to those other people? A-am I not enough for you?" He shouts, his tics making his head twitch to the side. He grabs your shirt collar and gets closer to your face, "Answer me! You fucking b-bitch!"

You shake under his hands, "I'm sorry sir!" You look him in the eye and mutter more apologies. He looks around the forest, searching for witnesses. He scowls at you.

"I don't think you've learned- learned y-your lesson yet," he gives you a snarl of a smile. He tightens his grip on your shirt and glares into your eyes as he cocks his right arm back and sits up as much as he could.

He began one of his cruel punishments. He strikes your face, again and again, turning your face into a puffy, red mess. You hold back painful gasps and close your eyes.

"L-look at me!" He screams in your face. You open your eyes as much as they will let you in their beaten state.

His hair falls to frame his face, his entire body shaking with pure anger. He continues his abusive actions. He moves his hands to your throat, choking you. You claw at his hands and try to fight him off. He shows no remorse and contracts your airways further.

By the time you wake up you are in the cell you were first kept in when Toby couldn't trust you. Toby is nowhere to be seen, you try to rub your face but only discover that your hands have been chained to the wall above you. You gasp and sit up as best as you can. The rattling of the chains alerting Toby from upstairs.

Toby storms his way downstairs and slams the door open. He roars at you, “Will you be f-fucking quiet?” You anxiously whimper at his loud voice. He walks closer to you and stands above you.

You glimpse up at him, fear taking over your body. He chuckles and his shoulders twitch. Toby kneels in front of you and stares into your eyes. You close your eyes and turn your head away. He lets out a short tsk, “What do you think you-you’re doing? Come on pretty boy, I want to see your pret-pretty face.” You look at his face and run your eyes on all of the scars that have made themselves at home in his skin.

He lets out a slow and breathy laugh, “There we go, that’s more like it.” You flinch as he caresses all of the new bruises that he created on your face. “I kind of like the way your face is so colorful, I should punish you more often.” he lets out a sharp laugh and you flinch.

He stands once again and takes a step back. He grins wildly and begins to kick your abdomen. He laughs with each kick to your body. He can hear the satisfying crunch of your ribs, fracturing them.

You wheeze and gasp with each abrasion. You groan as he places his last kick, making it harder than all of the previous ones. He huffs and looks back at your face. “Don’t worry, y/n, you'll be pretty-prettier this way,” he laughs at your expression.

He smiles at you and walks back a few paces. He admires his handiwork. He then twitches and walks out of the room, back upstairs. He leaves you in the dim cell, you let your head flop in front of you. You can hear Toby’s footsteps echoing as he goes up the staircase.

A few hours have passed, and the circulation in your arms is very faint. You hear the door begin to unlock, you start to shake with fear. Once Toby has the door open you spot a plate of food. Toby hums as he makes his way toward you. He seems to have come down from his cloud of anger, you hope that it’s true. You don’t think your body can handle much more of his abuse.

He places the plate on the floor and grabs your face. You look up into his eyes, not being able to read his expression. He remains neutral and removes his hand from your face. “I made you food. I don-don’t think you deserve it, but I can’t have you dying on me,” he says matter of factly.

Your mouth begins to rapidly salivate. You pull at the chains and whine quietly at the soreness of your wrists. He chuckles and pulls the plate towards him teasingly slowly. You shift your eyes from the plate of food to him, then back to the food. You become increasingly suspicious of what it could contain. You watch as he grabs a small amount of food with his hand and brings it to your lips. You whimper and turn your head.

He pulls his hand back, “Are you not hun-not hungry?” He begins to stand and turns to walk away. Your mind races and you choose to call out to him.

“I’m hungry! Sir, please let me eat,” You sit up further and pull the chains with you. You can hear Toby let out a satisfied exhale and he turns back to you.

“That’s a g-good boy,” he praises. He slowly crouches down in front of you. He takes a piece of the food and brings it close to your mouth. You open your mouth and he places the food onto your tongue. He pulls his hand away and watches you swallow, then repeats the process.

Once there are only crumbs on the plate he reaches into one of his pockets. You flinch when he brings his hand out, only to see him holding a juicebox. He pokes the straw into the box and takes a mouthful of its content and places the box on the ground. He pinches your cheeks to part your lips. When you open your mouth to him he places his atop yours. He presses your tongue down forcefully with his, as he spreads the juice into your mouth.

You gag lightly from the pressure and he laughs against your lips. Once he makes sure that you’ve swallowed he pulls away, drool glossing your lips. Toby wipes his mouth and takes the barren plate. He leaves the juicebox on the floor. You watch as he leaves you alone with your thoughts once more. You look down at the juicebox and try reaching out for it, only to find he placed it mere inches from your grasp, taunting you until next time.

END

That was an assshole Toby fanfic, I hope all you readers enjoyed it! :)

-Jellie

#creepypasta #fanfiction #ticci toby #slender mansion #this took sooooo long #Toby x reader #ticci toby x reader

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Note

I have another prompt for you! Do with it ehat you want. It rested way too long in my "Ideas I never use" box:

"I don't even care about my own life, why would I care about yours? I am a fucking pheonix, my dear, death is just like an insect to me – It stings, but has no lasting effect"

(maybe it's fitted for a Fey!Jaskier? Or Ageless!Jaskier? Or a Villain?)

Ohhh I love that prompt! Thank you!! <3 (shame on me, i left out the word 'fucking' bc it didn't fit the vibe of the fic. Hope it's still ok)

I again have no idea what I'm doing, but where would be the fun in knowing what's going on in my own writing XD

word count: 4884

content warnings: brief mention of blood, brief mention of injury, temporary character death (for about two seconds), burning alive (kind of)

There was something in this forest that didn’t belong here.

Hasty steps disturbed the birds’ songs and heavy panting cut through the illusion of safety that lay over this land like a fog.

The girl running through the woods threw a glance over her shoulder, a haunted expression on her face. Her feet caught on a protruding root and with a cry that pierced the air like an arrow, she fell onto her hands and knees.

Her scream carried on, long after she had closed her lips again. The echo started out as a whisper, then it grew louder and louder, became a symphony of fear and desperation. The sound of one who was truly lost.

Then again, all who found this forest were lost in one way or another.

And though they might not realise it, no one was ever truly alone in these woods.

Inhuman blue eyes watched from the shadows of the underbrush as the girl curled in on herself, lying on the forest floor in a heap of helplessness.

With slow steps that fell onto the earth silently as a sigh, Dandelion took off their cloak of shadow and approached the lost girl in front of them. As they came closer, they lightly hummed a melody, a soft lullaby made of wishes and dreams.

Slowly, the girl’s shuddering breaths evened out and some of that tension that held her in a vice-like grip, eased out of her shoulders.

“Child,” Dandelion spoke softly, in a voice that was bird song and trees swaying in the wind.

The girl looked up. For a moment, she didn’t seem to comprehend what was kneeling before her. Then, within the blink of an eye, she scrambled backwards, terror etched onto her face.

“You don’t need to fear me,” Dandelion said softly, holding their hands up.

“Why should I believe you?” The girl’s hands wandered across the forest floor until the closed around a branch lying next to her. Though fear twisted her face, she held the branch in front of her like a sword.

Dandelion cocked their head to the side, a smile flickering over their face. This girl was brave. Most lost people were, but there was something about her…something other. Something elder.

“You can believe me, because I can’t lie.”

“You’re not human.” The girl’s gaze wandered over Dandelion. They could nearly feel how her eyes raked over his claws that were just a little too sharp to pass as human, over their blonde locks that nearly had the colour of the flower they had named themselves after; the name yet another fruitless attempt to become more than they were. They were so close to being human. Still, despite centuries searching, they hadn’t found the right them yet. Not in this life and not in any that had come before.

“I am not,” they admitted and the words tasted like ash on their tongue. Always ash. Always fire and ambers. And yet, nothing more than a small sting that would pass when the life engulfed them in another embrace. Another chance.

“Then what are you?”

Dandelion lowered themselves to the ground, until they were at eye level with the girl. Carefully, they reached out their hand, an offer, an invitation.

“I am a Home for the Lost. Another Chance.”

“I am not lost!” The girl sprang to her feet without warning, gripping the branch tighter. “I know where I’m going. I’m…I’m looking for someone.”

“And someone’s looking for you, I assume?”

The girl bit her lip while her eyes darted to the side again, scanning the trees as if whoever she was running from could jump out and attack her at any moment.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Dandelion repeated. “You can be lost here for as long as you need to be.”

“What if I don’t want to be lost?”

Dandelion gave her a smile that they knew couldn’t reach their eyes. “Then I can keep you safe until you’re found again.”

“But you’re not him. The one who’s supposed to protect me.” The girl’s breath hitched. “Are you? You’re not Geralt of Rivia.”

Dandelion drew in a deep breath, tasting the name on their tongue as they inhaled. Their eyes fluttered close as the power of the name surged through them.

“I’m not,” Dandelion agreed. It wasn’t a lie. And yet, they felt a part of Geralt of Rivia’s being taking root within him. His name was theirs. His winding path, his doubts, his destiny. His losses. “But he will come here. I promise you that.”

“How can you? Have you seen him in these woods? I didn’t know he was in Brokilon forest.”

“This isn’t Brokilon forest. It stopped being that when I found you. And it doesn’t matter where Geralt of Rivia is. Not yet.” A breeze ruffled through the trees, whispering its secrets to its master. “He will be here. All woods lead here, when you go deep enough. When you get lost enough.”

If there was one certainty that pulsed through the name like a heartbeat, it was that Geralt of Rivia was lost, more than anyone Dandelion knew of. Except, of course, for the one person that Dandelion didn’t have the power to guide back to their right path. The one person who was given chance after chance after chance for a new start and yet never found their way out of the maze they were trapped in.

“He will come.” Their promise tasted like lightning and the soothing melody of a bubbling river. “You will be his second chance. Until then, let me be yours. I will keep you safe.”

The girl hesitated a moment longer. Then, she dropped the branch and flung herself into Dandelion’s arms, desperate not to be lost again.

Dandelion’s held her tightly, rapped his shadowy cloak around her and whispered soothingly into her hair. The embrace was like the feeling of when the fire stopped. At least that was how Dandelion imagined it must feel, when there were no flames coursing through their veins.

But they couldn’t truly know. After all, everyone was in this forest was lost in one way or another.

‘The girl in the woods will be with you always’

Renfri’s words echoed in Geralt’s mind as he limped onwards through the trees, ignoring the worried calls of the man who had taken him with him on his cart.

Geralt couldn’t waste a single moment longer by staying with him and his wife. His child surprise was out there somewhere, waiting for him. And Geralt…Geralt didn’t know what to do. He had to find her, had to make sure she was safe.

Yet he had no way of knowing where she even was, or if she was still alive. It was a miracle Geralt himself wasn’t dead yet.

You can be lost here.

Geralt’s head snapped up, his eyes darting across the trees sharply.

“Who’s there?” He called out. A mistake he wouldn’t have done if his mind had been clear and not muddled by ghoul poison.

For a long moment, there was no reply. Ever so slowly, Geralt tore his eyes from the darkness that lurked behind the trees. That’s when a different echo reached him.

Not Geralt of Rivia.

This voice sounded younger. Child-like.

“Ciri.” The name was but a breath on his lips, but he knew it in his heart to be true. Somehow, this voice was Ciri’s.

His staggering steps got faster, until he nearly ran. Geralt didn’t care about how the movement tore at his wound, how twigs whipped into his face, how his breath became shallow as black spots danced before his eyes.

He was urged onwards by the unbending certainty that Ciri was near, that he would finally find her.

People linked by destiny would always find each other.

But there was something else as well. A wildfire in his chest, a strand of shadow tugging him onward.

Geralt of Rivia.

The echo of his name rang through the woods, through the air and the inside of his head. Two voices. Ciri’s – and another one. A voice that sent shivers down Geralt’s spine.

The repeat of his name turned into a melody. A lullaby. A siren’s call.

Every instinct in him screamed to turn back, to get himself to safety. But instincts had been beaten out of him a long time ago.

His instinct had told him that his mother would take care of him.

His instinct had told him that he was loved.

His instinct had told him that there was nothing he could lose by calling upon the law of surprise.

But, oh, how he had lost. His mother, the woman he had thought he had loved, the certainty that he could keep walking the path that had been his only guidance since Vesemir had taken him to Kaer Morhen.

Geralt had lost, again and again, until he had become lost himself.

His chest became tight and he had to squeeze his eyes shut against the pressure building behind his eyes.

He was lost.

And yet he had no choice but to keep going. A haunting lullaby and his name on the wind forbid him from turning back.

He tried to orient himself on the rays of sun shining through the canopy of too-green leaves. Desperate to reach a path or a person that would make him not-lost again, Geralt ran until his breath turned into pants and his muscles protested. Witchers didn’t tire so easily. If need be, Geralt could fight for hours, stay up for days. Yet, no matter how much his body ached and protested, claiming it had been hours, days, weeks, the sun remained in his spot, never moving, as if no time was passing.

Geralt’s lungs were burning and the pain in his leg flared up with every step, until there were no more steps to take.

His knees gave out from under him and he collapsed, falling to his hands and knees onto the grass, the blades of which looked sharp as a sword but felt soft beneath his hands. Like a pillow to lay down on. Like an embrace. Like a home.

Witchers had no home. They only had the path, and yet, looking at this strange forest with its whispers and stagnant sun, Geralt had not even this.

“I am lost,” He called out, an act of pure desperation that never before had he allowed himself to admit to. His voice was raspy and scratched at his throat like shards of glass. As if he hadn’t uttered a single word for weeks.

Lost.

The haunting reply came in his own voice. A chill raced down Geralt’s spine and his fingers fisted into the grass, desperate to cling to something.

“I don’t know the way.”

Away.

An unshakable fear seized Geralt. He didn’t care how his voice broke, how his body was already broken.

“I need help.”

Witchers didn’t need help. They didn’t beg. And if they ever did, their pleas would go unheard.

Not so Geralt’s.

Something snapped to his right. He winced, his hand instinctively reaching for his silver sword. The medallion on his chest vibrated furiously.

He pushed himself to his feet, trembling with the effort, but unwilling to be on his knees like a condemned man waiting for his executioner.

The snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves stopped for a moment, a quiet laugh that sounded like water tumbling over rocks replaced the sounds.

“I found you.”

Geralt stiffened. It was the same voice as the first whisper he had heard – the voice that had lured him here. Only this time, it wasn’t a whisper on the wind. It was very real and far too close for comfort.

Witchers didn’t receive help. Whatever had answered his call must have darker intentions.

“Show yourself!” Geralt demanded, gripping his sword tighter.

For a moment, everything went still. No more whispers, no lullaby, not even the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Then, the bushes to Geralt’s right parted and someone stepped through. No, not someone. Something.

The creature in front of him looked how someone who had only ever seen a human’s shadow might imagine a human to look like. The being walking towards him was taller than any human could be, towering over Geralt. Their limbs were too long.

When their lips parted for a smile, the rows of teeth in them were sharp as a wolf’s.

“What are you?” The question left Geralt before he could think better of it.

The being cocked their head to the side curiously, too-blue eyes wandering over Geralt’s body, as if they didn’t even notice the sword pointed at them.

“I’m the Second Chance,” the being said, their eyes flashing with something Geralt didn’t dare name. “Yours, if you want me to be.”

“Who else’s second chance are you?” The question didn’t make sense, but Geralt had no control over his tongue. There was something about this creature – person? – that urged him to say things he didn’t understand. It was as if deep down, he already knew the answer, as if a part of him had known this person for a long time.

The being didn’t reply, but they raised their hands to their side and brushed lovingly over something. The air flickered in front of Geralt’s eyes, making him nauseous and dizzy, yet when he tried to look closer, he could only see shadow behind the creature. Until they flicked a hand behind them and the shadows parted, revealing a smaller figure. A girl with blonde hair that stared at Geralt with big green eyes.

Geralt sucked in a sharp breath.

It was Ciri. The one who had been lost to him.

And she was standing behind a creature powerful enough to lure even a witcher in. A creature who now placed a clawed hand on Ciri’s shoulder – the shoulder of the girl Geralt was sworn to protect.

“Let her go.” The demand left Geralt’s lips like a beast’s snarl.

“Go?” The being’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I made a promise to keep her with me. I don’t let any lost soul go.”

Their eyes bore into Geralt’s, searching through his soul, laying bare everything he was.

A boy, lost and abandoned by his mother.

A man who had lost a fight with the woman he thought he had loved – losing the fight, losing her, losing what he had been so sure had been love.

A human, who had lost his humanity.

Geralt, who was nothing but lost.

And there in front of him stood a creature who kept lost souls. The being sucked in a deep breath, closing their eyes as if they could taste all of Geralt’s losses.

They would keep him. Him and Ciri, damned forever to wander this cursed forest in which time stood still and echoes whispered into his heart.

He couldn’t let that come to pass. Not for Ciri.

Geralt knew his life was lost as well, even as he swung his sword. It didn’t matter. He had to save Ciri, had to get her out of this creature’s grasp.

There was a cry when his blade pierced the being’s chest. Was it his own cry or Ciri’s? Was the whole forest screaming as its master fell to their knees? There was only one voice who didn’t join the cry of agony. One, who was deadly silent, as life drained from it.

Blue eyes shot open, staring at the blade buried in the being’s chest with curiosity that quickly turned into resignation. For but a heartbeat, fear flickered in the being’s expression.

Fire blazed in those blue eyes. Fire poured forth from the wound instead of blood. Fire came to life in the being’s hair, searing the dandelion-yellow strands and racing over their body until all that was left of them was dancing flames.

Geralt watched in horror, as the flesh turned to ash before his very eyes. No, not ash. Dandelion seeds.

The wind picked up, tearing at Geralt’s hair, pushing him away, making the dandelion seeds tumble through the air in a wild dance.

Leaves tore from the trees, yellow flower petals, bits and pieces of the forest. All was dancing through the air, forming shapes and breaking apart again. The grass that had been so soft a moment before, shot up, grew faster and higher than any plant could, forming the shape of legs, of a torso, of a head. And still the leaves whirled through the air, obscuring the sight to the body that formed right in front of Geralt’s eyes.

A pit opened in Geralt’s stomach and the realisation of what this meant crashed into him with the force of a cockatrice slamming into its prey.

The being wasn’t dead. But it was only a matter of time before Geralt was, dying at the hand of the creature he couldn’t kill.

Geralt’s sword slipped out of his limp grasp, landing on the ground with a soft thud.

Geralt followed a moment after, his knees hitting the ground once more. This time, his executioner wouldn’t hesitate.

Geralt couldn’t protect his child surprise. Not in the years to come. But there was one thing he could do in this moment, one last act of desperation to save a life that he had always been meant to guard with his own.

“I make you a bargain!” Geralt’s voice got drowned in the howling of the wind, and yet, the ever-changing shape of the being turned towards him. Geralt’s throat went dry, his chest tightening. “My life for hers.” Through the whirlwind of leaves and blossoms, Geralt met Ciri’s gaze. Her eyes were wide and terrified. She was his to save. “Take my life and give the girl back hers. Let her go.”

Geralt bowed his head, awaiting judgement. For failing Ciri. For failing Vesemir and not being able to kill this creature. For failing himself. For losing, just when he had finally found the girl he had been looking for.

The wind didn’t falter, yet it changed course. The petals drew closer together, reaching towards Geralt like a hand.

A soft touch brushed his chin, tilting his head upwards, forcing him to look at the swirling shapes before him.

Though the being had no lips yet, their voice was clear and crushingly loud, coming from all around him. Every tree, every blade of grass, the very air spoke with the being’s voice. “Oh, but I don’t even care about my own life, why would I care about yours?”

Despite the roaring volume, the voice was achingly soft, like sweet nothings whispered in Geralt’s ear. The petals brushed Geralt’s cheek like a lover’s caress.

Geralt’s heart pounded in his chest, like a drum, growing faster each second, it’s rhythm dictated by the song that made this creature be.

“There must be something – how can a life be meaningless to you?” Geralt’s voice broke and his eyes flickered over to Ciri again. The child he hadn’t wanted. The life he had tried to push as far from his path as he could.

A sharp sound pierced the air, reverberating in Geralt’s bones. Only when it cut off abruptly, did Geralt recognise it. A laugh, devoid of life or joy.

“I am a phoenix, my dear.” The endearment cut into Geralt, broke him apart, made him wish that he could be more – that he could be found. “Death is just an insect to me – it stings, but has no lasting effect.”

“Liar.” The rasped out word cut through the symphony of sound.

Within the blink of an eye, everything around him stilled. The wind was still moving the petals and leaves. The being’s shape was still changing, and yet, there was no sound. Nothing, but Geralt’s own heartbeat and his blood rushing in his ears.

Then-

“What did you call me?”

It was only a single voice, within Geralt’s mind. A helpless desperation clung to it. A hunger.

“I called you a liar.”

“I cannot lie.”

Geralt’s jaw clenched and he forced himself to stare up at the swirling shape.

“Then you are a fool, if you truly believe your own words.” His hands trembled and he had to clench them into fists. Each word he spoke, dug his own grave deeper and yet, he couldn’t stop. It was as if there was something tying him to this creature, something telling him that he could know them, just as he was certain the creature knew him. “If death is like the sting of an insect to you, then it is more than just a passing irritation. Adults still remember when they had been stung by a bee as a child. Warriors flinch back from wasps, even knowing the stinging will pass. Gnat’s bites will itch for weeks.”

“Pretty words for a man who had first used his sword before attempting to speak. Yet the cut of your words hurts me as little as your sword did.” The caress of the petals left Geralt and he nearly found himself following their receding touch. “I do not care for my death, nor do I for my life.”

“Then why am I still alive? If life and death doesn’t matter to you, then why did you not just end mine?”

Unless…

I don’t even care about my own life, why would I care about yours?

They had never said they didn’t care about Geralt’s life. It had been a question – unable to either be a lie or a truth.

The only life they didn’t care about was their own.

It didn’t make sense. And yet, as minutes, days, an eternity passed and the being still hadn’t taken on a new shape, a vessel for their new life, no doubt was left in Geralt’s mind.

“Then let me give you something else,” Geralt whispered, his mind racing. In the stories, the creatures entrapping children in their realm and bargaining for their lives only ever wanted one thing. “If you let her go, I will give you my name.”

Something changed in the air. An almost palpable tension pressed down on Geralt, making it hard to notice anything around him but the dancing petals.

“Oh, my White Wolf.” The name the being spoke wasn’t Geralt’s name, and yet Geralt felt a tugging in his chest, a soothing caress, a gentle promise. It felt like his. And it felt like the being’s. “I already have your name.”

“Then what do you want? What…” Geralt trailed off, only now noticing the hint of something heavy in the being’s voice. It had Geralt’s name. Yet, Geralt had no way of referring to the creature. He didn’t know them. Perhaps no one did. “Then I give you permission to tell me your name. You may let me get to know you. You may ask to not be…to not be lost without anyone knowing who you are.”

Yearning. Hope. Helplessness.

How a being without a form could make their emotions so apparent, was beyond Geralt, but there was no denying it. The air felt lighter, the grass brighter and the silence was replaced by a soft humming, not unlike the lullaby Geralt had heard earlier. The forest was pulsating like a heart, was living off of the being’s longing to be found.

“I can’t give you my name,” the being said. “I can’t ask of you to hear it. I don’t want you to know it. I care not for my life, nor any life I’ve lived before.”

Something rose in Geralt’s chest. A fluttering, a certainty.

People linked by destiny would always find each other. This wasn’t destiny. It wasn’t any outside force pushing them together. It was two people being lost, finding each other.

Two creatures, inhuman in their own way, feared by those who didn’t understand with no one to care enough about who they were. Neither of them had had a choice in who they wanted to become. Neither of them had chosen to be lost as they were.

The witcher, who’s name had been replaced by a hated moniker. People didn’t know him as Geralt. He was the Butcher of Blaviken.

And this being before him - this Second Chance? Who had they been? Who could they have been if they had the chance to start a life that wasn’t dictated by what they were meant to be?

“I can be your second chance,” Geralt prayed that he could be what he promised, knowing in his heart that he could. “If you won’t take my name and won’t tell me yours… I can give you a name. A new life that will be more than an itch left by an insect. More than the fear of that short sting that will end it.”

The yellow petals were back on Geralt’s face, cupping his cheeks almost reverently. In that moment, Geralt wasn’t a condemned man on the execution block anymore. He was a man on his knees, asking another being to start a new life, to bind them together in a way that felt utterly right for a reason Geralt couldn’t understand.

There was a plea in the silent touch.

“Tell it to me then.” The voice was quieter than it had been before, yet it felt more urgent than the loudest cry.

Geralt lifted his hand, laying it carefully onto the petals touching his cheeks. Yellow petals. Not tough like a dandelion forcing its way through stone paths, set on coming back to life again and again. No, these petals were different. Softer. Fragile.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, his voice laced with power he hadn’t known it could possess. Louder, he repeated, “Jaskier. I have found you. You are no longer lost.”

A tremble went through the forest. The wind stilled, but the petals didn’t fall to the ground. Instead, they finally settled on a shape.

The petals caressing Geralt’s cheeks were the first to turn, their touch becoming more solid, warmer, human.

Geralt pressed into the touch, holding the hand that formed in his. Dizziness swept over him as the form before him solidified. Green leaves turned brown as they did in autumn and turned into hair. Petals became red and gave shape to a mouth that was stretched into a radiant smile. Grass turned into fabric, dressing the person whose life was just beginning in an embroidered doublet. A tree bent down, its bark peeling off and turning into an instrument, that the person deftly caught in one hand, the other never straying from Geralt’s face.

Then, the human opened their eyes. Blue again but lacking the eerie otherness. And yet, they were brighter than before, so full of life and for once filled with anticipation of what this life would bring.

This life that Geralt had given them.

Before Geralt stood no longer a phoenix, a creature with no name. They were their own second chance. They were Jaskier.

Even as Ciri rushed from behind Jaskier and flung herself into Geralt’s arms, the witcher couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jaskier.

The new human looked at Ciri with a fond expression on their face, and yet there was a strain around their eyes.

When their gazes met, Jaskier’s lips tugged into a small smile.

“I guess I kept my promise then,” they said in a voice that held no power, but made Geralt’s heart skip a beat nonetheless. “I kept he safe until she was found.”

Geralt’s brows drew together. “You intended to let her go? Then why –“

“I didn’t bargain her life,” Jaskier said softly. “She was free to go whenever she pleased. I – I wasn’t. You gave me my life and I give it back to you. If you want it.”

Without thinking, Geralt shook his head and tightened his arms around Ciri.

“I don’t want your life. It is yours.”

“Oh.”

Jaskier’s lips moved silently, forming the word ‘mine’, as if testing it out for the first time. A smile lit up their face, making their eyes brighter.

“If my life is mine, does that mean, I can choose where I want to go?”

Something twisted in Geralt’s chest at those words. “You are.” Had Jaskier only ever known this forest? If so… “Do you know any place besides this? Will you…if you leave on your own, will you get lost again?”

A gleam entered Jaskier’s eyes and they slung the strap of their lute around their neck, their fingers finding the strings of their new lute.

“I won’t,” they said, their face set in conviction. “Because if I get to choose where I am going, I will be following you, Geralt of Rivia, my White Wolf.”

Unlike before, there was no power to the way Jaskier spoke his name.

“White Wolf?”

Jaskier’s lips twitched and he plucked a couple of chords experimentally. “You have me a new name. If you don’t want my life, the least I can do is return the favour and give you a new one two. A name, people won’t curse. One that will no longer belong to a lost man.”

No longer a Butcher. No longer a mutant, bastard, monster!

Slowly, Geralt nodded. “A life for a life, then.”

“A life for a life.” Jaskier’s expression softened. “A name for a name.”

Two lost people finding each other, silently promising each other to do everything in their power to not let the other get lost again.

#thank you for the prompt!!#fae!jaskier #fey!jaskier #*gestures vaguely*!Jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #creature!jaskier #fic #my writing #witcher #the witcher #witcher fic #prompt #ciri #geraskier #kinda #i have no idea what this is but it was fun to write

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animatedrapture · 4 years

Text

RINTOBER: [ Achilles' Heel ]

word count: 2,222

suna rintarō x reader

tags: ambiguous end, implied major character death, angst, implied sexual intercourse, toxic relationship, detailed pain(?)

song: achilles come down - gang of youths

a/n: HALLOWEEN SPECIAL because... death...?

a HUGE thank you, once again, to my wonderful wife, love of my life, bby @toffees-main 🥺 for proofreading the final piece and preventing me from sounding like a dumbass like, twice. also, thank you to @newfriendjen and @kaitycole for beta-reading the initial draft!

"Rin, Rintarō, I love you!" You shouted from the bleachers; a proud smile decorating your features as you cheered for him right after he'd hit the ball to the other side of the net, securing EJP Raijin another point—so close to winning.

His gaze and yours were two opposites of a pole with a pull unparalleled—a pull science can only wish to decipher. He finds you as he rotates through the set up and there's a beam in his eyes, making him break out into a grin you just know he couldn't find it in himself to reserve for later.

That day, that match—Suna Rintarō was named the MVP of the game. He owed it all to you and the swell of his heart with each cheer he heard from you; your voice distinct as if it were the only one that mattered in that whole gymnasium. Perhaps, at least that time, you truly were all that mattered to him.

But not anymore.

The first—the first was the lack of replies, the dryer replies. I love you's met with Love you's and very little effort to hide the lack of sincerity beneath. It began through texts until it was the quick, snipped tone laced with the parsimonious manner he answered you. The act of it was much like an attempt to deprive you of water until you're but withering rose in his grasp that he would rather replace than try to plant again and save.

Just how long were you willing to go without the water you needed to stay alive?

"Rin, love, I'll prepare dinner for us tonight, come home early, okay? I'm cooking your favorite!"

"I'll try," was his reply as you watched each of his hasty movements through your shared bedroom.

"I prepared you a bento, too. It's on the kitchen counter," you continued as he attempted to ignore the way you looked at him similar to the way you look when you're lost and searching for something. He hums in response, and just as he was about to reach for the door, you call out to him, "Rin, where's my goodbye kiss?" in the usual tone you would pull back then when he would forget and pepper you with kisses in retaliation, offering an apology before heading out.

He looks back at you with exasperation, "I'm late, Y/N." He doesn't wait for you to answer before he has the door shut close.

That's how you know he also forgot the food you prepared on the kitchen counter.

Foolishly, the answer to the question was that you were willing to wait until your next life for his love to drown you into bliss again. It's that answer that's disrespectful to the mystery of reincarnation—but you're everything Suna Rintarō wanted you to be; that is, if it was a fool he wanted you to be, you would play the part better than any award winning actor to have ever lived could. Even if it was a miscreant he wanted you to be, some sort of heretic to the laws of the world and the conditions of love. You'd be everything he asked of you. After all, who were you if not his other half?

Who were you if not water to shape into whatever container he put you in, right?

The second—the second was the lies that slipped past such sinful crimson lips. Oh, by the heavens, as if the lack of fondness in the timbre of his voice as he spoke to you wasn't enough to put cracks to the cemented foundation of you and him. Cruel, it's so cruel—you wonder if you're lacking somewhere, have you changed? Are you no longer diamond in the sea of glitter—? Worth not of his time nor the beating of the caged heart you thought you've acquired?

Now when he speaks, even the very sound of his voice reverberates like a sharp spear piercing through your chest without mercy—as if you're Spartan in the Battle of Thermopylae. The lies that come along with them about how training ended late again, or that he's travelling for a match again—Huh? No, you don't have to come, Y/N. I need to focus.

Did he have to lie about who he's with, what he's been doing? It's laughable. As if you wouldn't kiss away the taste of anything that lingered in his lips, if it was blood, alcohol or the lips of another girl. Rintarō, did he not know you enough to know you would surrender to his will no matter what mud followed his footsteps?

Ah, but, what would admitting such things do to his pride? Maybe it's that—or maybe he liked the way the lies were like lemon and salt to a fresh wound. You think, you never thought you could be so masochistic.

Third—the third is the sharpness of his gaze. It's the same gaze, same pair of eyes you've loved for such a long time and you fail not to love to this very moment. You're softer than clouds but now most hollow in comparison to the unacquirable stars among the cosmos—you think they're there but they're just a burst of light, something that has probably died lightyears ago.

It's like chokehold, the fourth—the fourth is like chokehold and he, the assassin. Ruthless—he's ruthless when he looks at you as you're not more than a tedious chore to him and the ring on your finger held no promise of relentless love greater than what a deity could offer.

Foolish—you're foolish. Delusion is a coping mechanism to the ones whose realities have been robbed in front of them—delusion is what you're supposed to call it when you fill your head with all the excuses and all the things you tell yourself have to change. You used to be a masterpiece. A masterpiece to him; as though you're Holy Grail found in a gallery of things that could never begin to hope they would ever amount to you.

Delusion is ignoring the liquor in his lips, the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with alcohol and cigarette smoke. You're confused and your reality that seems to have been distorting more often than usual. You question the strings that premeditate fate when it's you feeling the drunkenness and hangover the next day when it should be Suna and the tabloids of "Suna Rintarō spotted in yet another bar." You wonder if each sunset and sunrise you watched with Suna was a mere fever dream when it's you who vomits on the toilet. You, who sobs on the bathroom floor.

"Sfumato," your friend tells you, "The gentle blurring of edges to make rendered objects appear as one with their environment." The edges blur when you call that delusion as love—you only have to wait long enough before both are truly one and the same. The pain disguised as martyr sacrifice to the greatest allegory of love to exist. This is what you're told. They say, "Y/N, you've confused love with delusion," and yet you don't listen.

You don't listen most of all when you're back underneath him but you feel like you're being bloodied all over, stained like wine to a white dress. Yet you allow yourself to indulge in the kisses he's abated you of, you revel in each time you ask him to tell you he loves you and he finally does as he luxuriates you of your desires and of your whines for love—nevermind that he was doing it for himself. After all, it is as the word suggests, a luxury.

Suna Rintarō had become a luxury you couldn't afford, therefore, he did not have any business of giving himself to you. Not unless he wanted to.

Is there such thing as a free reign over the heart of someone? Hand it over as they will but how long would they truly allow you to borrow it—? Borrow it because one never truly surrenders such a vital thing to human functioning. Yes, you are and you have been delusional to believe so.

"You own the entirety of my heart, Y/N," you're unsure whenever it echoes in your head. He brings you enough torture, why must your own brain create such clamor in your head. Was such pain necessary? Is pain to love much like Adam's rib to Eve?

"It's a promise ring, bunny," he said as he tucked your hair behind your ears—his gaze is intense, almost like you would disappear from his sight if he looked at anywhere or anything but you.

You stared at the ring that shone under the light of the restaurant, your vision blurring at the tears welling from your eyes and you try your best to choke in the sob that involuntarily escapes you.

"Hey, Y/N, what are you cryin' for?" He questioned with a chuckle, looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes while his thumbs reached out to wipe away each tear that betrayed you—falling down your cheeks as he cupped your face.

"I-it's nothing, I—I'm just happy, love," you answer him through your tears.

There's a smile playing across his lips, he tells you, "'m just making a promise that I'll marry you one day, bunny, is all."

You nodded eagerly with a wide smile even as the tears that left you continued to fall, "I'm making a promise to say yes, Rin. No matter what," you answered him through your sobs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Guess I should start practicing to get on one knee then, yeah?" He laughed as he pulled you closer, his arms around you, you giggled along with him—it felt like you were molded together to form one perfect piece, like the act of staying there for all of eternity, in each other's arms, would turn you into one. Entangled together in all the right ways—as if Rapture has befallen the Earth and that was your final state as did the universe.

The fifth—the fifth is the screaming, the fights. Who would have thought you would break like a mere twig stepped on in the darkest forest on this Earth? It was under his shoe did you break from; each word that left his mouth was scathing—they didn't feel like a stab or pins and needles to the human heart, they felt like burns of acid that slowly ate at your decaying soul, breaking heart, dwindling sanity.

"I don't get it, Rin! Why do you treat me like this?!" You screamed through your tears, your chest heaving as your lungs tried its best to support you, even when it's already been punctured by the shattered pieces of your heart that continued to beat in separate shards, digging further into your lungs, damaging your ribcage, piercing your throat.

"Please, God, just tell me what to do—Rintarō, tell me what I need to do to turn us back to the way we were, please," you begged, falling to your knees and you let the shattered items on the floor puncture your skin. You felt numb yet your whole body was buzzing. The pain from the pieces of glass from under you doesn't register in your brain because all you can feel is the pain that was spreading from your chest and out into your whole body.

Under his mercy had he turned you inside out and greedily taken every part of you—everything you surrendered on your own volition until you were nothing, not even a shell of yourself but more like a ghost floating through the air. It looked like a battlefield—and perhaps it was. Love was never something you come out alive from. Love was greedy, selfish, treacherous. Love is like an assailant you allowed to enter in the safety of your own home.

"Don't you get it? Y/N, I don't love you anymore!"

No. You think, no. No, it repeats in your head, over and over. Denial. You were in denial, at this conjecture, you were aware of even this.

"I stopped loving you long ago, Y/N. You were dumb enough to stay." Has he always been this truculent towards you? You wonder but you can't recall anything else but the echoing of his words. Words he used like a champion of the battlefield, liberating away the life of his enemies.

No. Don't say that. You don't mean it. No.

Suna thought you would be the arrow to his heel—the one to bring him to his knees in the most torturous of ways. In reality, maybe you were more his heel than the arrow. He was both Achilles and his actions, the arrow that brought him to his own demise.

Sixth—the sixth was sickening grief. You're so unfair. You're so selfish. How could you run away from him, only to scream his name and the tormenting shout of "I love you" that haunted him awake or in his slumber. How could you be so cruel? To let him fall to his knees in front you the way you made him to. Ruthless—you're so ruthless. The pain was the excruciating kind, crashing towards him like ocean waves bringing him farther from the shore and near to wherever you were now. How could you leave him like you did?

After all, what was he if there wasn't you?

📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

#RINTOBER #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna #rintarou suna #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #;cloud #haikyuu angst #suna angst #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintarou x reader

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happys-crazy-queen22 · 4 years

Text

Title: Territory That Shouldn't Have Been Entered

Gif made by me!! Thanks to @joeynihil for the help!❤

Hope you all enjoy

Happy reading dollies.

Taglist: @leaalfred

"You slept with my sister"? Bella came running down the yard, yelling at Sam. She pushed into him which causes Paul and the others to get defensive of their alpha.

"Now is not the time or place". Sam tried to reason with Bella, holding off his pack from attacking her.

"Oh it's the perfect time. I can hear from all your buddies telling me how you bragged about your score".

Sam narrowed his eyes at Bella with a growl."I would never do that to Y/N".

"Then you should have left her alone".

"She's an adult. She can do what she wants". Sam simply and calmly told her. Bella shook her head aggressively.

"No, she doesn't need this life. It's bad enough that she knows I'm dating a vampire, Y/N doesn't need to get dragged into this world of yours".

"I'm not going to hurt her, if that's what's worrying you. She won't get hurt. I'm going to protect her".

"Are you going to protect her from the Volturi? Cause they're after anyone that knows about the Cullens"?

"I'll lay down my life for her".

"You imprinted on her didn't you"? Bella scoffed.

"That's none of your business".

"It is my business, she's my sister". Bella yelled.

"You need to calm down".

"Or what? Huh, you going to go all wolfie on me"?

"I'm not the one you have to worry about". Sam nodded towards the house. She turned around and saw you standing there. Arms crossed and a very disappointed look on your face.

"Come here, now". You ordered. Sam started to come to you. "Not you Sam". You said with a giggle. "My sister".

Sam went back to his pack and Bella came into the house. Her head was down like she did when she got in trouble.

"What are you doing here"? You asked, leaning on the couch.

"I can't believe you slept with Sam". Bella spoke without looking at you, she chewed on her bottom lip.

"Why does it matter what I do"?

"It just does. You shouldn't have done that".

"Why? Does Sam have some disease that I dont know about? We used a condom if that's what you're worried about".

"Gross". Bella scrunched up her nose and shivered at the thought.

"You're going to change now".

"Into what? I'm not the one dating a vampire. You're the one that's going to change. I'm living a pretty normal life".

"Sam hasn't told you, has he"?

"What, Bella? What is Sam supposed to tell me? Does he have a hidden family somewhere? Does he turn green at night"?

"Come with me and find out".

"No, if Sam wanted me to know then he'll tell me himself. I don't need my little sister telling me what to do. Who I can and can not date. You're not mom or dad".

"You're right. Dad would be happy that you found a great guy like Sam but dad doesn't know what Sam really is".

"You've lost your marbles Bell, what is so bad about Sam"?

"I can't tell you. Sam has too".

You were getting fed up with the cat and mouse game with Bella. So you went back out to find Sam. He was still standing with his friends.

"Everything okay"? He asked as you got down to him.

"Show her". Bella demanded.

"Show her what"? Paul chuckled, making Sam shake his head at him to be quiet.

"Why are you doing this Bella"? Sam whispered low.

"She needs to know the truth before she gets into something that could kill her. So show her Sam".

"I'm confused right now. What is going on Sam"?

"Do you love me"? Sam asked a hard but simple question.

"Sam"?

"No, do you love me? Do you want to be with me"?

"Yes, I love you".

"Alright, back up. I dont want you to get hurt". Sam walked away from you and Bella going into the forest.

Bella grabbed your hand, the others started laughing as they saw that you were a little afraid of what Sam was doing.

"What"? You questioned but went silent as the trees disappeared behind a very large, very hairy black wolf. Your heart started to beat faster than its every done before. Bella held your hand tighter.

The wolf came closer to you, snarling his teeth. He was right in front of you and bowed his head to you. Telling you that he meant no harm and he was friendly.

"Sam"? You gulped as you stepped forward.

"Y/N"? Bella warned you as you stuck out your hand to touch its head.

You didn't listen to her and petted the top of Sam's head gently. He relaxed into your touch.

"This is really happening right now? Sam is a giant wolf? Holy shit". You gasped with a giggle.

"He's asking if you're okay with him changing in front of you"? Paul told you.

"Yeah, give me Sam". You stepped back, watching Sam change back to his human figure.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you". He told you but it didn't matter, you wrapped your arms around his neck kissing his lips.

"I understand, you had to be safe with making the decision".

"I trust you with knowing this. I also love you and I want to be with you".

"I want to be with you too".

"That is until he imprints on someone else and leaves you". Bella said in the background.

"To your question before, I did imprint on Y/N, the moment we met".

"Great, you screwed up her life".

"How? How did Sam screw up my life? I'm in a fairly normal relationship. My boyfriend isn't cold and dead. His family is more likely to kill you than Sam is to hurt me".

"You don't want this life".

"Are you jealous, Bella? I have the werewolf and you don't? Because right now you seem jealous of what I have with Sam".

Bella scoffed, taken back that you were the one coming after her now. She didn't think you would stand up to her like that over your relationship with Sam.

"No, I'm not jealous. I just dont want you to get hurt. I don't want dad to have to worry about you. Him finding your body in a ditch some where cause you got attacked by a werewolf".

"She's more likely to get attacked by a vampire than one of us". Sam stepped in.

"They wouldn't hurt her".

"Yeah, they won't. But what about traveling vampires that the Cullens bring in? Once I've imprinted on Y/N no wolf can touch her. It's the law".

"Laws can be broken. Dont you see that"?

"Well, she's safe here. I'm not letting anyone or thing get to her. So you don't have to worry". Sam wrapped his arm around your waist.

"You should have stuck with your own kind". Bella yelled out of anger, she'll regret telling Sam that .

"You're lecturing me about sticking with my own kind? I'm not the one that's going to die for some ancient old person that's been around for hundreds of years. I'm sorry that I'm not human enough for you sister but I'm the best thing to it. Would you be happy if she got with Emmett or Jasper or one of the Volturi? Would that make a difference, you know since they're your kind"?

"I dont want her with them either".

"That's right. You dont want her to live her life and especially dont want her to have a relationship with anyone that you know. I'm not Jacob, I'm not going to be pushed around by you. You're not controlling us". Sam said sternly, stepping in front of you. Protecting you from your sister that will soon be an enemy to your kind.

"I just want her safe. I dont know what I'd do if I lost her".

"She's safe, with me. Now are you going to calm down and not dictate our relationship or do I have to ask you to leave"?

"I'm calm".

"Alright".

"So, are you guys a thing now"? Bella awkwardly asked.

"Yeah, why"? You could see she's thinking of a idea.

"Wanna double date"?

Sam shook his head, mouthing no.

"Sure, we'd love to".

"Cool, we can do something tonight if you guys want"?

"I have a wolf thing". Sam horribly made up something, scratching his head.

"We can do it tonight".

"Sweet, I'll tell Edward". Bella ran off. You guessed this was her was of accepting you and Sam.

"I dont want to have dinner with a blood sucker. Can't you read mouths".

"We are together which means you will be spending time with Bella and Edward. Also if Bella does get married and you and I get married that means that Edward is your brother n law. So play nice". You patted Sam's cheek. He rolled his eyes with a huff.

"I'm not liking this right now". He mumbled to himself.

"Well, if you like what we have you will be a nice kind wolf and do your part to keep the peace".

"Yes, dear". He teased.

"Good, now I'm going to get ready. I will see you later". You kissed his cheek and ran off to your house to get ready.

"Boy, does she got you whipped". Paul laughed along with the others.

"Haha. Go train". Sam spoke harshly to the pack. He wasn't mad at their little joke, he was mad that he had to go to dinner with a vampire but if Edward keeps his end of the deal everything shall go nicely.

We dont want a fight between a werewolf and a vampire in the middle of a restaurant.

#twilight wolves #twilight wolf pack #twilight fanfiction #twilight #twilight imagine #sam uley imagine #sam uley fanfiction #sam uley #sam uley x reader #sam uley x human reader #happys crazy queen22

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cowboahhoe · 5 years

Text

The Viper - Arthur Morgan x Reader

A quick imagine, could do more parts if you want?

Warnings: mention of abuse

Summary: upon fleeing an abusive relationship, the reader finds themselves being chased by lawmen, bounty hunters and a few members of the Van Der Linde Gang after a night in Valentine.

(gif credits to whoever owns it)

———————————————————

The last few months had been far less than ideal for you. You were on the run from the law, just you and your horse Nellie. You hadn't ever foreseen your life going this way - you had always been for all intents and purposes a good girl. That was until you had met your first husband, Blake. Your birth father had decided that money meant a lot more to him than his only daughters life, so he had sold you to the highest bidder which seemed like an outdated and abusive practice; even in 1899. Blake had money in oil, and used you as arm candy but had no real love or respect for you. You were nothing more than a maid, house wife, punching bag and toy for his sexual pleasures for far too long. One fateful night your fuse had been lit, and you fought back. A shroud of red flooded your body as you pointed his own pistol between his eyes - finally feeling power against the vile man who had held you captive for a year, and you felt no remorse in applying pressure to the trigger.

The next few moments went by in a blur, you had packed a bag with all the money yourself and Blake had around - alongside necessities such as food, and weapons. After packing your loyal horse, you had faded into the night. Leaving Saint Denis, heading west. You knew there would be repercussions for your actions but there was no way to tell just how intense the manhunt would be for you, nor how large the price on your head would be for one small murder. $500 for your return to Saint Denis alive meant that you'd come across your fair share of bounty hunters in your time living off the land; you quickly realised you could only trust yourself, and your horse. This brings us to your lonely (but free) present day.

You sit in the saloon in Valentine nursing a whisky, your third of the evening. You'd been in an around the Valentine area for a few days and knew it was only a matter of time before you had to move along and set up somewhere else. Perhaps Rhodes? Although you quickly shake the thought from your mind - that may just be too close to the scene of the crime. Just as you suckle the final dregs from your glass, you spot a curious group of men walking into the saloon. You daren't take your eyes off of them, memorising every feature behind every person in the group, you want to be able to recall their identities should you need to 'silence' them. One man wore a black hat, black hair slicked with pomade and nearly down to his shoulders. He wore a black coat, and a black vest with a red breast pocket. This man seemed to have an unmatched charisma; this much you could tell simply from the way he stood. This wasn't an innocent man. Then again, who is? Next to him, a slightly smaller, scrawnier gent. With grey hair, and wearing a blue vest this man seemed to have kinder eyes, which may just be part of his play. Finally, a rugged man wearing a black hat, detailed with brown rope - you noted the bullet hole in the rim of the hat. He wore a tattered, dirty blue working shirt, and wore worn black trousers with cotton suspenders tying it all together. Although, with this man you struggle to focus so much on the clothes that cover his broad frame and pay particular attention to his features. Sandy brown hair, a messy - somewhat scratchy looking beard. The beard had a few holes in, which seemed to be due to the placement of some scars; the most prominent of which was on his chin. Then there came those eyes. Even from across the saloon you could tell they were bright blue with a twinge of green. The handsome man simply dipped on his beard whilst the other two men spoke quietly to the group, he didn't seem like the leader of the trio by any means, but it didn't seem that was important.

Just then, blue eyes looks at you and makes eye contact while taking another swig from his beer. For a moment, you're worried he may have recognised you but that fear quickly diminishes when he simply nods his head your way and turns his attention back to his friends. With new found courage, you move toward the bar. Intent on ordering a new beverage when you hear the black haired man pull something from his satchel, and start speaking to the man with grey hair in a hushed tone.

"Hosea, I told you. She's the viper, the one they want in Saint Denis... our boy John was right. We hand her in, it's a good honest days work" the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, as you realise your time in Valentine is over - that and you need to play the next few minutes very wisely.

"I don't know Dutch, doesn't it seem unfair we're using a woman's bounty to help us flee our own misfortunes with the law?" Scrawny replies, suddenly he has become your favourite of the bunch. Blue eyes doesn't chime in at all, but you can feel his eyes on you as you stand at the bar, awaiting a cue to either whip out your pistol or flee the scene.

Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you decide the best solution is to try and slip away whilst the group argue about your fate. You know that they're outlaws, and if there are three outlaws coming after you... then you probably don't stand much of a chance. You make a beeline for the entrance, and whistle for your horse as soon as you reach the open air feeling the eyes of Dutch, Hosea and blue eyes on you as you make your exit. The unmistakable shuffle of boots accompany your exit, and you know that the men are right on your tail - the discussion of your fate seemed to be silence by your exit and only one objective remained. Get her.

You hop on the back of your horse, Nellie. She's an Arabian White and so you prayed that whatever horses this band of thieves had were slower than your girl. In seconds, you were off. You had made a instant decision to head in the direction of Emerald Ranch, hoping to lose them on the way then loop back round and head west toward Strawberry - although admittedly tactic wasn't at the forefront of your mind. Fight or flight had well and truly kicked in and you knew you needed to get away, far away. The thunderous chorus of hooves colliding with the hard ground rung through the night as the three horses chased your dear girl a cross the plains of the heartlands. Admittedly, you should have gone up through Cumberland forest as there was more cover to hide and slip away undetected. Though you had come across bounty hunters, and lawmen you had never come across a group of outlaws intent on handing you in and so the city girl who lived within you shook in her boots, and used instinct and not her brain when plotting which escape route to take.

"We just wanna talk miss" Dutch called in the dark.

"Like fuck you do Mister, I heard y'all talking about taking ma bounty" you curse back; relying a lot on your horses innate sense of direction to guide you through the hills and trying to guide her to help you both disappear. One of the men take a shot at the floor near your horse, probably trying to spook her but being that your horse is tough as nails she barely bats an eyelid.

"C'mon miss we really don't wanna hurt ya" an unfamiliar voice shouts. You realise this must be the man with blue eyes, his rough voice matches his rugged appearance well - although you don't have much time to think about the dreamy mans voice as you hear the whirl of a lasso from behind you.

You duck, and make unpredictable movements on Nellie in order to avoid the grip of the rope around your body. You feel silent panicked tears roll down your cheeks as you realise your luck had run out; not knowing your fate with these three outlaws. Just then, the rope whips itself around you and you're pulled from your seat and thrown against the floor. Your head collided with a rock, making you see stars as your horse comes to a stop and stands beside you as if waiting for you to get back up. She doesn't realise this is likely your final ride. The three men come to a stop, and blue eyes hog ties you with the lasso before turning you onto your back.

All three men stood over you, as you shook and tears leaked from your eyes.

"take me then, I don't regret what I did to him. He deserved it more than anyone I have ever known" I spit with venom.

"My dear, did the countless bounty hunters, lawmen and innocent folk who got in your way deserve the same end?" Dutch replies. Bending his knees to move closer to your face so he is crouched over you as you lay on the dirt staring up at the night sky.

"If someone tried to have you swing for self defence and would you roll over and let them take you? Or would you fight?" You respond. Looking the man right in the eyes. Giving him the coldest look you can muster up while your cheeks are stained with tears. Dutch chuckles, looking up at Hosea and Blue eyes with a jovial expression.

"Darlin' im gonna give you a choice. You can go to Saint Denis and swing, or... you can come join us. We're a group of misfits and outcasts and we're always in need of more guns. You'd have to earn your keep, of course but from what I've heard you've had no issue wrangling an income for yourself."

"Dutch is that really wise? We have plenty of people to feed we could just let the poor lady go?" Blue eyes replies to Dutch. Causing him to whip his head up.

"Enough, Arthur! She can help in ways most of those women back at camp won't, besides - If she outstays her welcome we could always take her on a trip to Saint Denis." He smiles down at you while making his threat.

"I'll go with you." You reply begrudgingly. Whenever you can make it happen, you'll escape their camp. But for now this beats swinging.

"Well then, Arthur would you be so kind as to place this fine lady on the back of your horse?" Dutch says, walking over to his own beautiful steed.

"I have a horse of my own I can ride!" You shout back to him as Arthur removes me from the floor and places you face down on his horse.

"I know, but I don't want to risk you cutting off before meeting everyone and seeing how we do things. I happen to think you'll like it once you're not all tied up" he laughs. Arthur makes sure you're well seated before getting on his horse and coaxing it into moving to follow Dutch and Hosea. You whistle for your own horse who follows behind, with all your belongings.

"I'm sorry about this miss, uh, miss..." Arthur begins. Making it clear he knows you as only your pseudonym of 'the viper'.

"Y/N, just call me Y/N Viper" you respond, already out of breath from the movement of the horse pressing up against your chest and stomach. Compressing you're ability to breathe.

"well miss Viper, we have quite a ride ahead" Arthur replies, you huff in response and Arthur chuckles. Kicking the horse into moving a bit faster so as to catch up with Dutch and Hosea. You glance back at your beautiful horse and watch as loyally follows behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you exhale again.

This is going to be a long night.

________________________

Needless to say I hope you liked this? Can do additional parts if you want, or I mean if you have any ideas please feel free to let me know. I'm not sure how tumblr works so idk comment or message any ideas or recommendations or anything if you feel like it.

ALSO do let me know if you think this is trash because I’d rather know I just was having a touch of fun writing a little bit this evening. I’m also pregnant and my brain is completely useless so I really appreciate feedback 💖

Thanks so much 💖

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #red dead #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan imagines #arthur morgan one shot #dutch van der linde #rdr2 hosea

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fanwarriorfictions · 5 years

Text

One-

A Stranger Things 2 Fanfic

Chapter Eight: The Mind Flayer

"You're positive that was Dart," Lucas asks.

The group had been walking for about an hour now, trying to track down those things. They follow the train tracks like they had earlier, keeping close together now that it was dark.

"Yes. He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt," Dustin explains.

"He was tiny two days ago," Max argues.

"Well, he's molted three times already," Dustin says.

"Malted," Steve asks.

"Molted, Steve," Phina smirks, "molted."

Dustin nods, "shed his skin to make room for growth, like hornworms."

Phina walks between Steve and Dustin. Steve leads all of them with a light in his hand. The kids each have a light but Phina elects to keep her hands free in case they encounter one of those creatures.

"When's he gonna molt again," Max asks.

"It's gotta be soon," Dustin answers, "when he does, he'll be fully grown, or close to it. And so are his friends"

Phina sighs, "and if you're right, that these things are growing Demogorgon's, then..."

"He's gonna eat a lot more than just cats," Steve finishes.

Lucas grabs Dustin's shoulder, stopping him, "wait, a cat? Dart ate a cat?"

"No, what," Dustin denies, taking a step back from Lucas, "no!"

"What are you talking about," Steve asks, clearly not catching onto the situation, "he ate Mews."

"Mews? Who's Mews," Max asks.

"It's Dustin's cat," Steve explains.

"Steve!"

Phina sighs, "you aren't the brightest one are you, Harrington?"

Steve throws up his arms clearly not understanding what he did wrong. Phina just sighs, patting his shoulder and gesturing for him to watch.

"I knew it! You kept him," Lucas yells.

"No," Dustin argues, "no. No, I... No, I... He missed me. He wanted to come home."

"Bullshit!"

"I didn't know he was a Demogorgon, okay," Dustin yells.

"Oh," Lucas exclaims, "so now you admit it?"

"Guys, who cares," Max yells, "we have to go."

"I care! You put the party in jeopardy," Lucas yells, "you broke the rule of law!"

"So did you," Dustin screams at him.

"What?"

"You told a stranger." Dustin shines his light in Max's eyes. "The truth!"

Max scoffs, "a stranger?"

"Guys come on," Phina sighs, "this isn't the time for this."

"You wanted to tell her too," Lucas yells, ignoring Phina.

"But I didn't, Lucas, okay," Dustin yells, "I didn't tell her! We both broke the rule of law, okay? So we're even. We're even!"

Steve suddenly grabs Phina's hand, shining his light over to the right where he heard a noise. She gives him a questioning glance and he just pulls her along with him. They walk away from the fighting kids, Steve shining the light towards the noise.

"Guys," Steve calls out, getting ignores.

Phina strains her ears to hear over the kids' yelling, "guys?"

They ignore her too and Steve rolls his eyes, "guys!"

The kids jump at Steve's yell, turning to look at the two teenagers. That's when they all hear it, the screeches of the Demogorgon things. The arguing boys glance at each other, forgetting about their argument instantly as the run towards the noise. Steve runs, letting go a Phina's hand so he could grab his bat if he needed to.

"No, no, no. Hey, guys, why are you headed towards the sound," Max yells, "hello? Hello?"

She runs after the group as she realizes that they would leave her behind. Steve and Phina lead the group, Steve shining the light around as they come out of the trees. They stop on top of a large hill, the noise coming from somewhere below them.

"I don't see him," Dustin says.

Lucas lifts his binoculars to his eyes, searching around for them, "it's the lab."

Phina grabs Steve's hand again, panic flaring through her at the mention of the place. Steve looks down at her, squeezing her hand to comfort her. It works, just holding his hand calms her fast beating heart.

"They were going back home," Lucas continues.

The kids don't hesitate to start walking down the hill, carefully placing each foot so they wouldn't fall. Steve starts to follow them but Phina stays rooted in her place. Her hand slips from his grip.

"Phina," Steve asks, turning back to her.

"I can't go down there, Steve," she whispers, "I can't."

The way her voice cracks breaks him, "I know, Phina. I know."

"No you don't," she snaps, her eyes tearing up as she sinks to her knees, "you don't know, no one does. You don't know the horrors that were in that place."

"Hey, hey," Steve shushes, kneeling down in front of her, "I know what you went through was awful, and that I could never begin to imagine how you feel, but I promise you, Phina. I promise that nothing bad will happen to you, I won't let it."

"I can't," she cries, hiding her face in her hands, "I can't, I can't, I can't."

"Hey," Steve whispers, "Phina, look at me. Look at me!"

He grabs her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. She looks into his eyes, the emerald standing out against the now red whites of her eyes. He stares back as he takes her hands and places them over his heart.

"I swear on my life, Phina," he whispers, "that I will protect you till my very last breath. I won't let anything or anyone hurt you in there, do you understand me? I will protect you."

She believed him. She believed him as she felt his heart beat beneath her palms. It stutters when she nods, weakly smiling at him in a thank you. He stands, taking her hands in his so that he can help her stand. She breathes deeply, steadying her racing heart. She could do this, she could do this because she had him next to her.

"Are you guys coming or are you just going to stare into each other's eyes all night," Dustin yells at them.

They jump away from each other, their hands falling to their sides. Phina misses the warmth of him instantly.

"Shut up, asshole," Steve yells, his face going warm.

Phina sniffs, wiping away her tears, "we should probably catch up to them before they do something stupid."

Steve smiles, "yeah."

"Yeah," Phina says, her face also heating up.

They had made it down the hill and now walked through the dense forest that surrounds Hawkins Lab. Once Steve and Phina had caught up to the kids, they took the lead. Phina kept one hand running over the trees to calm her, the other, in Steve's. When the shrieking noise from the Lab grew closer, meaning they were closer, Steve would gently squeeze her hand, cooling the panic that raced through her. Every time he did, she remembered his promise, his vow to keep her safe. She made a vow too, to herself. If something was to go wrong, if it came to it, she wouldn't let Steve get hurt to protect her.

They were close now, the loud shrieking coming from their right as they made their way to the front of the fence.

"Hey," someone yells, "Who's there? Who's there?"

Phina grips onto Steve's hand tighter, grabbing Steve's light from his hand and shining it in that direction as Steve raises his bat. Steve pushes Phina behind him as they come out of the trees.

"Steve!"

Phina recognizes the voices then.

"Nancy," Steve asks.

"Jonathan," Dustin says.

Phina walks out from behind Steve, drawing Nancy's and Jonathan's attention to her, to her and Steve's entwined hands. When Phina sees her sister's eyes land on their hands she pulls away.

"What are you doing here," Nancy asks as she and Jonathan walk towards the group.

"What are you doing here," Steve fires back, trying not to look affected when Phina's hand falls from his.

"We're looking for Mike and Will," Nancy explains.

Phina's heart stops in her chest, her eyes going wide.

"They're not in there, are they," Dustin asks.

"We're not sure," Nancy says.

"Why," Jonathan asks.

The Demogorgon things roar in answer, drawing everyone's attention to the building. Phina desperately wants to grab Steve's hand but she stands her ground. Instead, she grabs the emerald charm at the base of her neck.

"That's why," she whispers.

-1283 words-

Here it is, the final stretch, are you prepared??? I really wanted to show how Phina was affected by Hawkins Lab and how Steve helped her deal with it ;) Did you like that part?

-Morgan

#steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #strangerthingsfanfic #strangerthings #slow burn #one #romance

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grovyrosegirl · 6 years

Note

Hey, could I request something that covers what happened in the week between the Witherstorm's defeat/Reuben's death and Jesse's speech at the end of Episode 4? Thank you even if you don't write it :)

The days following the defeat of the Wither Storm were a mess, to say the least.

And normally, Axel didn’t mind messes. Causing a bit of chaos now and again was something that kept life interesting, even if it normally came at the cost of lectures from Olivia and Jesse. But lately, Axel had been learning that there were two kinds of chaos in life. You had the fun kind, and then you had the kind that left things in shattered pieces.

Destruction is easy. Rebuilding is hard. Being a griefer, Axel knew this better than anyone. Blowing up the ruins of what used to be Soren’s hidden temple? Fun. Gathering the materials once they had been lodged free due to the TNT and hoisting them back to their makeshift town? Not as much. But as much as Axel had always hated cleaning throughout his life, it was what needed to be done in the end. He wouldn’t argue with that.

But that law of life didn’t just apply to the shambles of what were once buildings. People could be destroyed too. Even though people were made of stronger stuff than obsidian, when they fell, they fell hard, and it would never be easy to put them back together.

In those brief moments after the Wither Storm’s end, Axel had watched Jesse be destroyed.

And he hadn’t been able to do a single thing to stop it.

All he could do was stick around her as she desperately tried to build walls around herself. However, those walls were flimsy, and little things were more than enough to topple the blocks over. Sometimes it was watching a group of people sharing a ration of carrots, other times it was a passive mob of wild pigs trotting along in the forest surrounding the group of small stone cottages. There were times when Axel couldn’t pinpoint the catalyst, but nonetheless something had knocked a block off, and he could see his friend’s eyes become watery as she excused herself.

Whenever it occured, Jesse always seemed to go to a spot where none of her friends could find her. She would return a short time later, with a fake smile and an excuse of needing to get some water before trying to return to whatever task they’d been doing previously. No one bought it, but no one had the courage to say anything either.

Until today, in the early morning, when Axel and Olivia once again lost sight of Jesse as everyone was receiving a ration of food, gathered days prior, for breakfast. The two split up to search for her, wanting to make sure she was at least still eating. It didn’t take long for the griefer to find his friend in the spot where he searched first.

A memorial for Reuben had been one of the first things Jesse committed herself to building, and it was reaching its final stages of completion, with the quartz base and pillars made from polished Diorite. It was on top of the structure where he spotted her.

Axel breathed in, before calling up to her, “Jesse?”

She yelped in surprise, as she quickly turned around, her hands moving to hide themselves behind her back. The moment the two of them locked eyes, Jesse gave him a smile that looked ready to tremble at the drop of a hat, “Axel! Hey, what’s…” She swallowed to keep her smile, “What’s up?”

“Couldn’t find you at breakfast,” Axel said. “You should eat something.”

“I’m okay. I ate some bread on my way over here.”

“Right,” Axel kept his focus on her hidden hands, “so, whatcha doing up there?”

“Nothing!” She said. Slowly, her hands drew themselves back into view, her left holding a chunk of flint while the right tightly gripped a piece of steel. She took a small step to the side, revealing the quartz torch that had been placed atop of the memorial, it was noticeably missing a flickering fire, “The flame went out. I was just re-lighting it.”

Jesse turned away from her friend once more, giving the steel a quick scrape against the flint. Tiny sparks leapt off the chunk, but no flame sprouted, “But it won’t light up for some reason.”

Axel moved slowly towards the monument, noticing a temporary staircase made up of dirt blocks Jesse had created in front of the structure.

“Didn’t it rain last night?” Axel said, his words moving forced and slow. “The wood’s probably too wet.”

“Oh.”

Axel took a step onto the first dirt block, “Yeah, sorry Jesse. How about we find that Nether portal? We can grab a piece of Netherrack and bring it back here. That stuff stays on fire for a long time.” He paused before adding, “Maybe fight a few zombies on the way?”

“No, it’s fine,” Jesse said, refusing to look at him. “I can light this.”

He reached the second step, “It won’t work like that, Jesse.”

She ignored him and continued her fruitless struggle. Flick after flick, she tensed up more with every one, and still no flame would arrive.

“It’s fine, I got it.”

“Jesse,” He started again.

“I got it.”

The flicks became faster, more sloppy. The sparks grew scarce.

He stepped onto the quartz surface, “Jesse, come on-,”

“I said I got it!”

“Jesse!”

Crack.

She froze in her movements, watching as the chunk of flint in her hand broke into pieces. The shards only rested in her palm for a brief second before they poofed in a cloud of dust. Jesse let out a frustrated yell, spinning on her heel, she hurled the steel down towards the cobblestone path below the memorial before collapsing to her knees. Her hands clamped up, shielding her eyes away from the world. She cursed under her breath, most of the words were indecipherable, although Axel could make out “stupid” and “useless” while the rest turned into a garbled jumble mixed in with shaky sobs. Jesse stayed there, unmoving. All of her strength, whatever was left of it anyway, was drained out.

With no hesitation, Axel took a final step closer to her, his large hands found themselves a gentle place on his friend’s shoulders.

“Come on buddy,” He said, helping her to her feet, “Let’s go sit somewhere else.”

He’d led her to a spot under an oak tree a distance away from town. There, the two of them sat in the shade for what felt like hours. Jesse didn’t speak at first, needing to release what remained of her sobs. Axel had gladly offered his arm to cling to, and with no one else around to see, Jesse had accepted it and buried her face into his green sleeve.

Once she had calmed down, Jesse released him, and they began talking again. The conversations started out as quiet, awkward attempts at small talk. They chatted about the construction jobs, about Magnus and Gabriel taking charge of the search parties, and about the sudden new admiration they’d been receiving from complete strangers. (Axel had been enjoying it just a bit more than Jesse, but now wouldn’t be the time to bring it up.)

“They’re planning a ceremony to thank us,” Jesse said, her voice still slightly hoarse from her previous crying.

Axel glanced over at her, “Huh. So that’s why they’re setting up that rainbow beacon in the middle of town?”

Jesse nodded, “Yep. Gabriel said it’s supposed to be a symbol of ‘a new beginning’ or something like that.” She looked straight ahead, eyes now fixed onto the stone cottages standing by the lake in the distance, “He also said I should give a speech.”

“Whoever said you had to?” Axel said. “Gabriel’s not the boss of you.”

“You’re right, I don’t have to, but,” She leaned back further on the tree’s trunk, “I think I should. People are scared right now. Nobody knows what’s going to happen next. Some people don’t even know if they still have a home to go back to. Everyone’s just looking for something to guide them. Someone to guide them. They need somebody to stand up on a stage, smile, and tell them that everything’s going to be okay. And I think,” She trailed off, watching a group of townspeople far away walking by with armloads of blocks and other building tools. “I think they want that someone to be me.”

Before Axel could say another word, Jesse was already looking down towards the ground, her voice beginning to shake once more, “But how am I supposed to do that? I can’t even light up a stinking torch without turning into a wreck.” Jesse trembled, she wrapped her arms around her legs and pulled them closer to her chest, “They need me to be their hero, but…” Her body curled up, as if she was trying to make herself smaller, “I can’t do this, Axel.”

“Jesse,” Axel started to say, “it’ll be-,”

He stopped himself. It would be what? Okay? What a lie that would be. Nothing was going to be “okay” and magically make everything better. At least not for a long time. He knew that nothing would ever bring back what they’d lost. Nothing was going to bring back their town, their homes, their forest…

Nothing would bring back the little pig whose presence was only missed more each day.

Axel shut his eyes for a brief moment. He let the air around him brush past, to ease the heaviness he felt just a bit. Then, opening his eyes, he looked back to Jesse, and said the only thing he could.

“It won’t hurt like this forever.”

Jesse rose her head, looking at him with red puffy eyes.

Axel continued, “When stuff like this happens, it’s like getting hit really hard right in your heart. It hurts like the Nether, and it’s gonna keep hurting for a long time. It’ll probably be a while before you even feel like you’re healing. ” He folded his arms, leaning back to get a good look at the sky, “But you’re gonna heal. And eventually, even though it won’t go away forever, it’ll be easier. It’ll become easier for that pain to heal.”

Jesse sniffled, using one hand to wipe at her eye before turning back to Axel, “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

She shuddered, then croaked out. “I just…wish it didn’t hurt so much now.”

“I know buddy.”

Axel raised his free arm, offering it to her once more. But this time, when Jesse moved forward, she flew past his arm and grabbed onto his center, wrapping her arms around his back. Axel didn’t even flinch, instead he simply lowered his arms and wrapped them around her, pulling her closer.

“Don’t worry, Jess,” Axel told her, “you’re not doing this alone. We’ll be on that stage with you.”

Jesse tightened her grip, “Thanks Axel.”

People fall hard. They always do, and they’re the hardest to rebuild. Axel knew that putting the pieces back together would be the biggest challenge he and his friends would face.

But that only made it worth it even more.

#mcsm #my fanfics #MCSM spoilers #MCSM Jesse #MCSM Axel #raintagwasalreadytaken #Sorry I took a bit long!#Huh I just realized this is the first time I've ever written something focused on Axel #I hope I did him justice because I do like him as a character #But he’s a little tricky to write for since I’ve never done it before #Thank you for sending a request!

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