#This 'unseen expectation' just fell onto my shoulders | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rain-dom · 11 days

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[FtM Transformation] Diving In.

Leah pushed herself out of the water. It was a hot summer day, and the pool was about to close. She sighed. She had been practicing all of her life - twenty years - and she had felt like she was pretty good at it, but she felt like she was stagnating.

She wanted to be on her University’s swimming team, find other people that shared her love of the water. And yet, even when she joined swim teams in the past, she felt like she just didn’t fit in, like she was out of her element. It just didn’t make sense to her, and it made her so distracted with herself. What was wrong with her? She used to love swimming when she was younger.

What changed? What was she missing?

“Argh! This is stupid. I’m never going to be on the team at this rate. I’ll probably just settle for Law school or some bullshit.” Leah said as she stormed into the locker room, and threw her goggles onto the floor.

She went and opened her locker, and was about to go change out of her blue one peice swimsuit, until she found a found a black envelope in her locker, sealed with some some of black and purple logo she had never heard of before

She opened the envelope:

—

“Feeling left behind? Left out? Well, don’t we have a solution for you!

Picture yourself - no, not THAT you - the person that’s been hiding in your subconscious.

Yeah, that one. For twenty-four hours, let your old expectations, your old, false ideal of yourself fall away, and your true self be free.

All you have to do is have The Unseen near you and close your eyes, and imagine yourself. Free yourself of the expectations that society has placed on you, and the expectations that you have placed upon yourself. And then, your spirit and body will finally be whole.”

—

Leah scoffed. This had to be some silly prank, “probably those weird New Age hippies”, she thought.

As she closed the envelope, eager to throw it away, something fell out of it. It was a black - diamond? Pebble? It was mostly smooth, with some rough edges here and there. As she picked it up, she could feel something…beating in there. She couldn’t quite make it out, but it sounded like…a heart?

“Is this The Unseen?” She asked, now intrigued. And was there something truly…alive in there?

She had to find out.

She looked over the letter again.

“Hmm…what would happened if I actually try this ritual thing out?” She pondered. “Not that anything weird would happen, right?”

She closed The Unseen firmly within her right hand. “Well, what was do I have to lose? I’m already desperate enough as is.”

She closed her eyes. She searched, searched and searched deep within her mind, for her “true self.”

She looked everywhere - her memories, her fears, her hopes and dreams, but no matter where she looked, she couldn’t find-

Him.

She found him.

She gasped. “That’s…that’s me! At least, that feels more like me. I…I don’t mind being a woman but, it were up to me, I’d want to be a slim but muscular guy.” She whispered.

And that’s all it needed.

The Unseen begun to feel warm. Then, it became hot to the touch, like a door that had seen the sun for too long.

“Ah!” Leah screamed as her body immediately became hot as well, and very, very horny. The Unseen fell and crashed into the floor, and evaporated into nothingness, along with the card.

First thing to change was her chest. Her size A cup boobs were now shrinking into nothing, slowly pulling and deflating themselves until her chest became completely flat.

“Hah hah Holy shit!” Leah said, panting. “My breasts…are totally gone!” She placed her hands on her now-flat chest, shocked - yet, surprisingly to her, relieved - at her new features. “W-well, I won’t have to worry about bras anymore, that’s for sure-ahh!!”

Her quip was cut short by another new change, this time taking place at her hips, thighs, and waist. “Agh…hah” Leah grunted as her waist evened out, pushing out so that they would be even with her shoulders, and her butt shrank in tandem. “N-not that there was much of that, anyway, hahaha…wait, my voice!”

Leah’s tall height did go up by a few inches, to 6’4, which didn’t really occur to her, as she was focused on the other, more significant changes happening to her. Another thing she didn’t notice was that her blue bathing suit was now much tighter around her body, even ripping in some areas. One thing she did notice, however, was that her voice had gotten significantly deeper by now. She brought her hands to her now thicker neck, feeling her newly minted Adam’s apple that had started to form. “Ahh, mmn..” she liked the sound of her new, deep voice. She then brought them to her face, one that had become more angular and more defined at the edges. She rubbed her hands through once her neck-length brunette hair had that also long since receded, now a short haircut. Speaking of hands, she removed them from her throat and noticed that they were slightly bigger and more rough, too. It was at that point she realized she was becoming-

“-a man?! I’m becoming a man! The guy I saw in my mind, I’m becoming him! Oh, this is incredible!!”

And with that, her body started to shake. She bent over, wrapping around her arms around her chest.

“Agh!! Godd!! It hurts but it also feels- nngh so good!” It was like they were on fire! Not in a painful way necessarily, but it was very, very intense. It was like at any moment that something was about to come out of her chest-

“AHH!!” Leah shouted. “Yes! My chest it’s…growing!!” But it wasn’t boobs that were growing. In fact, they were being replaced with a large, broadening chest and tight pecs. Her shoulders expanded to help accompany the expanding chest, and her arms and hands grew in size and muscle, as well did her legs and feet.

“Ahh, mmmph, oh f-fuck yes this..this feels amazing!!” She grunted and moaned as her abs pushed out. “I-I need more!”

Muscle practically exploded all over her body, twitching and morphing and expanding. Her bathing suit, now no longer compatible with her growing body, completely ripped apart as her changing body grew one last time.

“Agh!! Hah…hah…oh my god…” Leah said, exasperated, sweat dripping all over her body. She rubbed her nicely defined chest and abs, and flexed her arms, showing off her newfound strength.

“Wow…this is…amazing…” Leah said through labored breaths. “I want…no- I NEED more!”

Suddenly, she felt something pushing out of her crotch, something hard and impossible to ignore.

“Hnngh!! Huff, huff Ohhh my god, I’m growing a cock!! Agh, yes!”

She moaned in complete pleasure, enjoying the feeling of her cock coming out of her vagina, stretching and growing along side her dropping testicles, once her ovaries. Not only were they growing on their own, but she was hastening the process by using her own strength by pushing them out as well.

“Yes, yes!!” she grunted, as her cock and balls reached there final size. “Please, agh I need to get it out!! I need it, I- AH!!”

With one last push, her new genitalia was fully formed. Her wet vagina was now a throbbing, erect penis, clocking in at a full eight inches, and full so of cum that it was already leaking precum.

Practically drooling at the intense sensations and pleasure emanating from her crotch, her hands almost moved on its own, as she more than ever before, she needed relief. “Mmm…oh! Yes…” As she pleasured herself, more and more precum dripped onto her dick and the floor, but at this point, she didn’t care.

“Nngh, hah, oh god, I’m g-getting close—oh? Oh!! Oh yes!! YES!! AHH! AHh…hah..”

“Hah…hah…mmn…ah…hah.” Leah smiled as she - now, as he realized, he - practically fell to the floor, sitting next to his locker where all of his stuff still looked like they owned by a woman, and not the athletic man laying right next to it, recovering from his best organism yet.

A great sense of calm of relief washed over him. “Is this is what post-nut clarity feels like?” He asked himself. “That…felt…out of this world!”

“It sure sounded like it.” Said a feminine voice coming from behind him.

“A-ah!” He quickly got up and turned around. Standing before him was a tall, African-American woman, wearing a red two piece bathing suit. She had her hands in her hips and was smiling smugly at him. She quickly remembered that she was still in the girls locker room.

“Ah-uh- i-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!!” He said as he covered his giant genitalia. “Please don’t the wrong idea! Oh god, you won’t believe what just-“

“Oh, I already believe it. Your Unseen seal has been broken, among other things…” she said, looking at the mess Leah made on the floor.

“It…it was YOU!! You…gave me this body. Oh, my god. I…don’t know how I can repay you…”

“Oh, hun. There’s no need to repay me. After all, fapping may be fun, but nothing beats the lustful passion of two souls giving into each other. Come, let me show you a place where I can better accompany you.”

Leah nodded along excitedly.

She opens an oval, black and purple portal. She turns around and takes his hand. “My name is Kiara, by the way.”

“It’s, uh…Leo.”

“The pleasure will always be mine.”

They arrive in a high-end bedroom, adorned with purple, blue and red LED lights, a large bathroom, closet, and a large red bed.

“Lay down on the bed.” Kiara commanded, with him practically running onto it if anything. The white, soft fabric of the bed sinking in around him wrapped him up, like a warm winter coat.

“Is it okay if I tie your hands together?”

Leo nods.

She tied his hands together above his head. She climbs on top of him, and pulls leans close to his face. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, absolutely!”

She started with kissing. Kissing on the lips, down his neck, his chest, his abs. She would kiss all across his body, getting just close enough to his crotch to get him that much more excited, teasing him for what was to come.

“Mmh…hah…ahh…ohh, god, yes…” Leo moaned.

“This new body, you love it, don’t you?”

“Yes!!” Leo exlcaimed.

She rubs her finger down his chest and to his abs, and back up to his chest again. “But, it doesn’t seem like you are used to the intense, raw feelings and sensations that your body has came with. Well, you’re in luck, because I can take care of that for you.”

She put her lips against his ear and whispered, “So let me show you how good it feels to be a boy.”

“Ahhn! Yes! Please!”

She smiled.

She kisses him on the lips more time, but this time with much more passion, and quicker. She kissed him on his neck, chest, and abs, then pausing to let Leo’s cock make itself known.

She starts to kiss the hard, long thing.

“OhH! You’re sending waves of…p-pleasure…all over my bodYY!!”

Leo’s deep, desperate moans were interrupted by Kiara’s kissing and licking of his dick.

She then asked, “are you ready for the next step?”

“Yes!!” Shouted Leo.

Kiara started rubbing her right hand in a circular motion on his cock, her soft, feminine fingers sending shivers down his spine.

“Oh! Ohh! Yes!! Hah oh fuck!”

She continued making Leo more and more aroused, by using different techniques. She started by giving a slow, gentle handjob, then moved on to sucking his dick slowly. But the end of that, Leo couldn’t even think straight.

“We still a little ways to go.”~ Leah teased. “Now, with all that out of the way, it’s time for you to give into your urges.”

“H-huh?”

She started with taking off her bikini bottom first, bending over to highlight her ass. After she started to take them off and toss them to the side, she turned around messaged her breasts, which were bountiful C cups, then started to remove her top. She leaned towards him and showed off her boobs. “Now…do you like what you see?”

“Ahh…yess!”

She’s smiled seductively, as she started to climb on top of his body.

Noticing his member leaking plenty of precum, she pushed her hand on her erect penis.

“Oh, not yet~”

“Ohh! Ohh…” Leo moaned absent-mindedly, his legs jolting with anticipation.

“Soo much pent up energy…don’t you just want to plunge your huge, leaky dick into my tight, wet pussy?” She said as she leaned closer towards Leo.

“Yess!!”

“Then you know what you need to do. Just let go, and give into your true desires!”

She removed her hand and let it reveal itself, no longer contained by Kiara’s pressure. The ties around Leo’s hands disappeared, and Leo immediately leaped up and kissed Kiara, with the two of them wrapping around their arms around each other, rolling around on the bed, kissing passionately.

Leo was now on top of Kiara.

“Leo! huff, huff do your worst!”

Leo at this point just need to get everything out - his love for his new body, his disdain of the old one and his old life, his arousal, his cum, his need to penetrate. He just needed it all to be let free, out of the prison he made for himself his whole life.

He needed to be free.

He kissed Kiara in the lips, then quickly moved down her body. Kissing, licking, biting. Biting her neck, her breasts, licking and kissing his stomach.

All was fair game to him.

“Hahh, hah, it this good so far?” He asked, gasping between breaths.

“Yes, ah yes!! Right there, right-aHh!” Kiara moaned as Leo continued to bite in all the right places on Kiara’s body.

He moved to her pussy, which was now wet. He kisses around the area of her pussy and her stomach, then moved to eating her out. “Oh! Leo!! W-Where did you learn these mo-OoHves~” Kiara moaned.

“Huff, ah, I have my ways. Now…are you huff, huff, ready to see what I can do?”

“Hah, mmgh, hah let’s see how much mess you make this time.”

Finally, he put his dick inside of Kiara.

“Ohh, fuuuuck,” Leo moaned, almost taken aback on how tight Kiara felt. Kiara grinned.

“See, I told you Im not easYYy-ohh”

“Would…ahh…would you like me to go faster?”

“Yes! Go faster!”

Leo keeps fucking Kiara, harder and harder, faster and faster.

“Ahn! Ah, L-Leo!” Kiara practically yelled. You’re about to make me *cum!!”*

“Ahh oh, ohh god!” Leo huffed, beds of sweat dripping down his face. “Mmh I’m almost there too!! Agh!”

Until, they finally climaxed together.

“Oh godd, I’m about to cum, I’m a-about to- AH!!” Leo moaned as he came inside of his condom.

Kiara also came, squirted out of her pussy. “Hah, ohh, AGH aHh YES!!”

Leo fell to her side, panting profusely. Both of them were completely exhausted from both the transformation and the explosive sex.

“That…hah, hah that was incredible!” Said Leo after a few minutes of collecting themselves. He turned to Kiara. “Is…is there way you could extend this thing past twenty-four hours?”

Kiara looked almost surprised. “I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”

————

A FEW MONTHS LATER:

Leo pushed himself out of the pool. He had just triumphantly won the preliminary heats and the semifinals, and was now looking forward to the finals.

“Hey, Leo! Good job out there, man!” His coach praised.

“Thank, Mr. Clark.” He said, panting between breaths. “It was a close one, but I got it!”

He was now well known and liked at his university, and he has made more friends with his swimming team. He was much more satisfied with himself and his life now.

“Dude, you completely saved us there! Can’t believe I lost to that damned douche from update” said his now close friend, Micheal.

“Hey, all you gotta do is keep practicing, and maybe don’t compare yourself to others as much. I know it’s easier said than done but…trust me, I’ve been there.” He said with a wink.

He went to his locker, now in the men’s. He opened it, putting his stuff away, ready to go home. He found one of his picture of his old self, wearing that one piece swimsuit. He smiled, knowing how much progress he had made with himself.

After making it back to his apartment, closing the door behind him, he heard a whooshing sound.

He knew exactly what that meant.

“Hey, hot stuff~” said his girlfriend, Kiara. “Another win, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah…” he turned around with a smile. “But it’s always a win to see you here.”

“Alright, cheesy-head.” Kiara rolled her eyes.

“Ah-ah-ah! You’re blushing!!”

“I am definitely *not!!”* Kiara laughed as she fell into her boyfriend, kissing him.

“Now, how about I take another swim in this nice piece of work?” She said, rubbing his chest.

Leo chuckled softly. “You know I’d love that.”

#ftm transformation #female to male #girl to boy #transformation #gender transformation #tg story #tgtf #tgcaptions #tf story

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thecameronchronicles · 1 year

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The Foster Part Seven

TW: language. Smut. Angst.

SUMMARY: You find comfort in John B in the middle of the night.

WORD COUNT: 1400

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

The Foster Part 7

It was a first to face such a contradiction. His hand a weight at your waist, pinning you into the mattress as well as against him as you favored the unintentional dominance. The strong arm keeping you in place became a focal point of your fingers as they traced up to his bicep and then ultimately to the rough incoming stubble at his impressive jawline. But it was only when you danced against his bottom lip that you saw the fist flicker of consciousness come to the corner of his mouth pulling into a smirk. It was enough of a tease to promote you forward against him.

The second your lips pressed into his, his body livened to the collision. The climb of your heel around the back of his calf to pull him closer existed as the anchor of a moment he wasn't sure he'd ever know again. But as his hand came to your cheek to what you expected to deepen the kiss, he retracted from you. In only a momentary silence, he pulled your hair behind your ear before tracing your wounds with the pad of his thumb.

"Does it hurt?"

"I can handle it…"

As you tried for him, his hand pinned your wrists to either side of you as you were set onto your back. His body was positioned effortlessly between your thighs as you bit your bottom lip to watch him favor your own, now captivated. Yet somehow still the perfect combination of soft and dominant.

"I still have to apologize…"

"You did …" You reminded him, even if the words expected from the usual moment weren't uttered, it was enough to forgive and move on. At least you believed it had been.

"Not the way I wanted to…" Your shirt was removed over your head in a graceful pull and discarded somewhere unseen at the side of the bed. His body, warm and tight, came back to yours as his lips captivated your agape gasp to how pliable you were in his grasp. Your hips, your cheeks, your legs, all adjusted to bring you closer to him. Until even this wasn't enough. Sensing this, you reached for the clasp of your bra as he returned your hands to their gentle imprisonment at your sides.

"Sorry sweetheart, not tonight…" Your eyes followed him as he pulled your straps down your shoulders and used two fingers to expose your breasts. Immediately, his mouth captured the one closest to him as you gasped, his tongue and teeth both threatening and a sense of serenity as he held you tighter.

"I want you to trust me…" He spoke into your chest, half muffled, but close enough to hear everything not only spoken, but between his breaths as well.

"I do…"

"Not just with this…" He lowered in descent over your stomach until he no longer weighed you down. Instead, he was kneeling at the edge of the bed, a swift pull making you gasp once again.

"I was so scared something happened to you…so I'm going to make my intentions crystal clear…" He kept his eyes to you as you watched him pull your panties from your hips and kiss slowly up your thigh. Treating you as a lover who knew your body well, be began slowly, watching each of your reactions as the novice he had been. Whatever confidence came from the way you curled your toes and arched your back as his tongue worked in growing acceleration at your clit.

Your dominant hand came through his messy hair, worsened by your fingers wrapped through the central strands. A smirk was felt between your folds as he took a single swipe from your opening to your sensitive bundle of nerves before rising just enough to make note of him. A smirk, a dripping chin, and a tongue savoring you off of him had validated how you were thoroughly enjoying his nether venture.

"I liked your apologies…" You smiled, breathlessly as he took a moment for breath. His eyes fell between the space of your thighs he'd left cold, as his hand carried the destination of his touch to your breasts.

"I'm not done until you understand just how sorry I am…" When he moved back into you, your body betrayed you immediately. Inaudible pleas and humorous squeals uttered from behind clenched teeth before you watched him work your sex.

"One or two, sweetheart?" When you moved against him, broadcasting your lack of care for anything but continuation, he scoffed slightly.

"Two it is…" You took in a sharp inhale before hearing the door to The Chateau slam. Once then twice. When he noticed your altered focus, he quickened those fingers until even the apocalypse itself would be nothing but background noise.

"John B-"

"Focus on my fingers…my tongue…Forgive me for being an idiot…"

"I do…" You whined. "I swear-" You winced to the withdrawal of his fingers.

"I haven't earned it yet, sweetheart…not until my sheets are soaked…" He silenced himself by savoring your sex completely. A wild tongue perfect in speed and depth until your body rode into him.

"Yes…Yes…" He twisted your nipples, alternating along with your groans, until you clenched hard enough to confess your imminent release.

"Come on my face…I know you can do it…" Your eyes rolled as your body unbuckled beneath him. A final moment of tension before the cascade left your body and wore onto him as the reward he optioned for. But hungry eyes narrowed in a siren's call brought him to his palms as you pulled him further. Your hand working quickly to remove his belt and return the favor before a pounding came in the bedroom door.

"John B!" Pope shook the door with his surprising strength as John B turned and you pulled him back to you. Straddling him flat on the bed, his eyes became devoted to you as you unclasped your bra.

"I'm sure whatever it is can wait…But I can't…I believe in returning the favor…" He began to smile before the door was rattled again. Only this time, you set his hands over his head, forcing him to become a switch to your sudden dominance.

"Let me show you just how much I forgive you…" But just as you'd begun to kiss down his chest and stomach, his muscles tensing the lower you traveled, the door flew open.

"I'm sorry, but we have a problem…"

John B was quick to cover you even though Pope had covered his eyes. His body easily able to allow you the time you needed to dress swiftly as the intruder was berated.

"I really expected you of all people to knock, Pope!".

"It was detrimental-"

"It couldn't wait-"

"It's bad, John B…" You and John B looked at one another.

"What are you talking about?"

"We did something…and-"

"Come out Pogues! We know you're in there!" A voice echoed outside your window as John B and Pope were quick to move to the glass.

"Get her out of here…" John B pushed you towards Pope as he set his hand on your arm to guide you.

"What the hell is going on."

"It's Rafe…" Kiara explained.

"I'm not leaving." You stood your ground before John B moved towards you, rushing across the room to his bag before setting something in your hand and taking your face between his palms.

"Remember what I said about trust? I need you to do that for me right now…please…" He kissed you sweetly as Pope and Kiara led you away. It was only when you moved out of the rear door that you saw how injured JJ had been on the couch, a million questions prompting you to reject your new friends and their attempts to pull you away from John B.

"We can't leave them!"

"You being there is going to distract him…Well take you somewhere safe. Itll be-"

"Unless we're going to get someone or something to help only to come right back, I'm not leaving-"

"We don't have time for this…" Kiara groaned.

"When John B was gone, JJ and I took it upon ourselves to get a bit of…revenge on them, okay?"

"What did you do?"

"Maybe…took the plug out of Topper's boat-"

"You what?!" Kiara narrowed her eyes.

"It doesn't matter now….We just have to go…" At the mention of this, you felt the cold metal object John B had entrusted you with. It was the realization of this that made you understand you couldn't stay.

The compass…

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916

MASTERLIST

JOHN B ROUTLEDGE MASTERLIST

THE FOSTERS MASTERLIST

MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST

#john b routledge #john b routledge fanfiction #john b routledge smut #john b routledge x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks smut #outer banks smut #outerbanks fanfiction #obx #obx fanfiction #obx smut #obxsmut #obxfanfiction

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spn-etc · 23 hours

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Amor Vincit Omnia

***** A Destiel Short Fic*****

Note: The above title, Amor Vincit Omnia, is a Latin phrase translated into “love conquers all things”

The dawn flushed the sky a golden hue, like a gossamer cloak across the waning night sky. Flashes of violet still lingered like a dream. It was a time of prayer, a time of meditation. A time where people were half awake from the nights before, and still others were just coming home. Home. The angel, a soldier without a home. The renegade warrior. The apostate. God had abandoned his place on high to whereabouts unknown, as people in hushed tones at this, the morning hour, sent their thoughts and wishes towards the creator who was not there. To what could Castiel say, but that he braved the condemnation of the heavenly host. He left it all behind for the cause of man. Man, God’s beloved creation. Humanity, that most fractured creation. So said the bright morning star that fell from grace. They were quick to buy into the trick from the angel. The one who had plans from the beginning to ruin God’s creation, as if to say, “You see, Dad? Why would you make humanity your favorite, when you have your us?”

Castiel had wondered at the character of mankind. The site on which this church was built was once the site of one of the bloodiest battles in the history of the Americas. The congregation of this church prayed for the peace and good will of people. In years’ time, the same people would destroy those they sought to help. And they would proclaim it as God’s will, just as the conquesting soldiers did all those years ago in their scorched earth campaign. People and their contradictions.

The golden sky turned azure. The light refracted through the stained glass of the church. The heavenly guest had abided here for a time, to locate the whereabouts of a relic used in exorcisms. And as he walked the floors, unseen to the clerics of the old chapel, Castiel caught the image that had stopped him in his tracks.

Parables could be told in picturesque form. So common was the sharing of stories in this form at one time, that there were thousands of stories of the lives of saints and of devils. In this story, in shades across the spectrum of colors that refracted onto the stone floor, was the display of love in its shining hour. That of a knight shielding another from the dragon in vivid green on the window above the pulpit. His arms outstretched and the many colored scales aside like wings, as the one of which needed its protection stood just behind.

It had been seven days since the last sunrise. Since daybreak, and since he last saw Dean Winchester. Since the radiant sun, too, caught the forest green eyes which he had known so well. Green eyes that betrayed much of the sadness at having to leave in such a wonderful moment. “Cas,” Dean sighed, his head inclined onto the angel’s shoulder. His scent was that of smoke, and earth after the rain. Castiel imparted a tender kiss. He looked out, knowing this would shatter one of the moments they seldom found away from the madness. “Dean,” Castiel said, with his voice just nearly breaking. “I cannot stay. I am called back. There is word of something happening in England..” Dean was silent.

“No. You belong here, Cas.”

“Dean..” Castiel countered.

“Why? After this long? I can’t believe you’d just leave like that!”

Dean could be petulant, especially in moments where he felt that someone was abandoning him. Castiel brushed his hair. Soft, and in the rising sun, a kind of brassy color.

“We’ve both got work to do, Dean. If my lead is anything to go by, we could be closer to making sure the seal stays closed, as it ought. You and Sam, you can do this without me.”

No word had been sent back to Castiel, and he grew worried, as he still expected to hear back from the hunter. Castiel looked again at the picture in light. And, he resolved against everything, that he would see Dean again.

#spnfandom #destiel #romantic #spn fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #fantasy

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tripleaxelrose · 2 years

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Well, after a bit of a hiatus and some hasty switching between projects, I… have written something. I don’t know what it is or where it fits, but expect that it’s probably part of my longer, unnamed fic. I won’t offer a summary because the situation is… probably pretty self-explanatory.

Content warnings: None.

Other warnings: I wrote it an hour ago and have barely proofread it, so sorry for any spelling and grammatical quirks. I’ll fix them as I see them.

_____

She does not talk to Coach. She gives up on Coach. She talks to Nathan.

His morning session is not going well. He works alone on a wobbly quad toe on a corner patch of ice that he’s managed to hoard for himself amidst the other bodies swooping around him. The other skaters know not to encroach on him when he’s like this, broody and smarting from off-kilter landings, one after the other after the other.

Coach, gloved hands in the air, has given up trying to reason with him — go home, take a break, try again later, forget about it for today — and has abandoned him for one of the Korean girls who could land on the podium at Worlds. Nathan can see her out the corner of one eye landing triple-triple combinations on the opposite end of the rink. He hears Coach shouting his approval or disapproval — it’s hard to know — above the room’s usual morning din. Above the hum of parents gossping and the rink’s unseen generators struggling to keep ice cold under California sun and the scrape of blades, immediately preceded by the grunts of kids landing on their feet and not.

He has just fallen, just absently brushed a cool line of snow off his flank from where he fell, a gesture so ingrained he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, when he spots the rhythmic swish of her unruly ponytail moving along the boards toward him. And then she stands in front of him, the barrier between them, him on the ice, her off, his skates deepening his only marginal height advantage over her and he is happy for it given the look in her eyes, the fever he senses there. She is dressed to step out onto the ice, gloves on her hands, as though she is about to become just another one of the kids edging in on his corner, occupying his space. The bag over her shoulder sags. She has brought her skates.

She breathes hard through her nose. He knows what she wants before she even asks. He also knows he will give it to her.

He hears her speaking but only half listens, distracted by the peachy hue of her skin, the riot of cinnamon colored freckles on her shoulders. He imagines what it would be like to inspect them up close, to connect them under his fingertips like constellations.

He only half-hears himself, too, murmuring as she lays out her demands, his own voice in monosyllables, drifting in from somewhere else.

Not just her, she tells him, matter-of-fact, but the French boyfriend, too. They are a package deal. This is exactly how she says it.

He doesn’t realize that he has reacted, is not quite sure how he has reacted, even, until he sees her face change. A frown knitting her pretty mouth. So she knows, then, that he disapproves of the boyfriend. (He does not realize that he disapproves of the boyfriend until this instant. It is news to both of them.) He feels a little bad, looks away from her, curses his idiot habit, uncontrollable and unpredictable, of showing too much on his face too quickly.

Then he looks back, something switching inside him. Because whatever. This is the word that races through his head. Whatever. So she knows. She’s asking him for a huge favor. Let her know. And let her deal with it.

He wants to say to her, look.

Look, it’s not because your boyfriend’s a mediocre skater, which he of course is. (He’s not as good as me, he wants to say, then immediately shoves the thought away. He’s not as good as you, is what he really wants to say, and he means it.)

It’s not because he seems more good looking than smart.

It’s not because he seems a little arrogant.

It’s not even because this sort of guy, always ends up with this sort of girl — he feels a spark of rage burn hard in this chest as this thought whizzes by. With you, he thinks. Not this sort of girl. This sort of guy always seems to end up with someone like you.

It’s not even all that, he wants so badly to say. To shout it in her face. It’s that he doesn’t seem like the type of guy who appreciates any of it, including what you’re doing for him right now. A package deal.

He doesn’t say it. He looks at his skates, his pigeon-toed feet hovering over his blades, the pockmarked ice underneath them a record of the day’s failures. He’s upset that he’s upset her.

“OK,” he says.

“OK?” Her face changes all at once, as though she’s drawn off a mask, as though she’s returned after disappearing on him.

“OK, yeah. I’ll talk to him.”

When he tells her that he’ll try to catch Coach before the end of the day, she shakes her head. “I’ll wait,” she says.

Coach frowns through their whole conversation, arms folded, but does not seem surprised. He’s known this was coming since she got to town. Since both of them got to town.

She’s on the ice by the afternoon session. She doesn’t do anything complicated, tests her edges, greets the other skaters who drift up to her, a curiosity. Something new.

She does not encroach on his corner, stays on the opposite side of the ice, leaves the rink at the end of the day without saying goodbye.

#chenbell #my fic

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thatfanficstuff · 3 years

Text

Unexpected - Stucky x Reader

Pairing Grouping: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Steamy fluff with a dash cupful of foul mouthed Reader and super soldier. Also liberal use of sugar and baby but no sugar babies.

A/N: short fluff is no 3300+ of very steamy fluff. I’m gonna go with 16+ on this one folks. Oh, and STUCKY!!!

***

They didn’t think anything of it at first. It was just little things after all. Things that hardly warranted their attention. It wasn’t until Tony mentioned it that they began to take notice.

“Hey, Capsicle, you and tin man been sneaking off to the store without telling anyone? You could at least ask if we needed anything? I’ve been out of blueberries for days,” Tony said one night as the team sat to watch a movie.

“What are you talking about, Stark?” Steve asked with a furrowed brow.

Tony gestured at the bag of gummy worms that you and Bucky were currently sharing. “Just that you two seem to be the only ones around here that never run out of your favorite goodies. You could have stocked up for everyone. That’s all I’m saying.” He shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand through the air as if it wasn’t important, though clearly it was if he’d brought it up.

You rolled your eyes. “Tony, you’re a billionaire. Pay someone to do your shopping and have it delivered, you big baby.”

The super soldiers on either side of you laughed and you settled more firmly into your seat between them. Tony started to say something else but Natasha smacked his arm. “Shut up. Movie’s starting.”

He grumbled which brought another smile to your face. He really was an overgrown kid sometimes. Really, you were just pleased that he’d shut the hell up. After all, if you’d wanted your crushes to know you were secretly taking care of them, you would have done it not so secretly. Liking both of them was awkward enough without them being aware of it, thank you very much.

Honestly, until that day, Steve had just assumed that Tony had someone that replenished the food in the kitchenette on their floor. True, they’d never seen anyone, but it wasn’t like it happened by magic. It was just over a week later when Steve glanced up from his drawing when Bucky walked into their living room. “Hey Buck, you didn’t do any cleaning did you?”

Bucky snorted. “There’s never anything to clean is there?”

Steve frowned. “Yeah, I noticed that to. I asked Stark if he had a service that did our floor. You know what he said?”

“I’m guessing he said no or we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Bucky answered as he sat across the table from his boyfriend.

“He asked if I wanted him to get someone in to help us out.”

Confusion caused Bucky’s brow to furrow as he leaned forward. “So, someone has been coming into our space, replacing our food and cleaning up after us and we have no idea who it is?”

“Looks like it.”

There was a stretch of silence before Bucky asked, “Why?”

***

It started when the boys were on a mission. You’d raided Buck’s candy stash for movie night and before you replaced it, you’d done an inventory and picked up everything else they were needing. It wasn’t like it took much more effort. And when you’d seen how happy they were when they arrived home to all their favorites, that was all the incentive you needed to keep doing it.

You made sure to refill their stash when they were on mission or out for training so they wouldn’t catch you. There was always the chance they’d return when you weren’t expecting it, but the odds were slim. After all, you made a living by sneaking around unseen, hence the name Shadow. The cleaning started when they were gone on a mission and you didn’t want them coming home to clutter and dust. You weren’t even sure that they noticed, but it made you happy to have something else you could do for them.

Steve and Bucky were currently on week three of a mission with Nat and Sam and you were sorting out the groceries you’d just bought while you tried to think of something special you could do for them.

“So, why do you do it exactly?” you heard from behind you, causing you to jump. The twins were in San Francisco until tomorrow so you should have had the floor to yourself.

You scowled when you found Tony standing behind you wearing his infamous smirk.

“Jumpy?”

Your cheeks heated as you turned back to the task at hand, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice at least half of your food was for the super soldiers. “Mind was just elsewhere. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering why you pamper the geriatric twins if you aren’t going to take credit for it?”

You froze briefly before finishing up and placing the boys’ food back into bags so you could carry it upstairs. Finally, you turned and crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the counter behind you. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to deny it?”

He chuckled as he moved closer. “They asked me to look into it before they left. It was the complete lack of evidence that led me to you actually. Only one person I know can get around my system like that.”

“Shit.” You were a technomancer and were very skilled at making tech do what you wanted. Tony hadn’t been thrilled the first time you’d completely circumvented the tower’s security. Now he used you to test out new systems. Finally, you quit freaking out enough to meet his eyes. “Are you going to tell them?”

He tilted his head and frowned at you. “Why are you so dead set against them figuring this out? You know they won’t be anything other than grateful.”

“Because they’ll want to know why and I can’t tell them that.” Your voice was quiet but you knew he’d heard your answer.

“Well how about you tell me then, sparky?” he suggested.

You rolled your eyes at his stupid nickname as you sighed. He wasn’t the most trustworthy when it came to secrets but you were dying to tell someone. And honestly, he would probably be the least judgmental out of everyone. “You can’t tell anyone, Tony. I mean it.”

He rubbed his hands together and closed most of the distance between you. “My lips are sealed. You have my word.”

You arched a brow but chose not to comment. You closed your eyes not wanting to look at him as you made the confession. “I might possibly be just a little bit in love with them.” When you got no response you opened one eye to find Tony grinning at you as he rocked on his feet. You opened the other eye to give him a narrow-eyed look. “What?”

“I think you should tell them.”

“Not funny, Stark.”

“Wasn’t meant to be, sweetheart.” You just stared at him, saying nothing. After a few moments, he sighed. “Listen, as amusing as it might be to trick you into having that conversation with them and recording it to watch at my leisure later, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“That little admission didn’t exactly help your cause any.”

He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t tell you that I know for sure how they’ll react, because I can’t. I also can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught them checking you out when they think no one’s watching. Or how many times they’ve argued about who got to sit beside you when there was only one seat left. Or the number of whispered conversations they have that fade away when you walk into the room. And while I have had many female friends over the years, I have never suggested any of them sit in my lap unless I was trying to take things beyond friendship.”

You frowned. “I sit in their laps all the time.”

His hands went out to the side as if to say ‘see?’.

Your frown deepened as you recalled something else. “Wait, didn’t you try to get me to sit in your lap when I was still new?”

Tony chuckled and turned around to walk off. “Only proving my point, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.

It was barely five minutes after he left that you gathered the bags of food to take upstairs and put away. You weren’t certain you’d survive sitting around doing nothing and there was only so much training you could stand in a day. “Protocol five, J,” you said as you stepped onto the elevator. “Super soldiers’ floor, please.”

“Of course, Miss.” Protocol five would shut down all recording devices anywhere in your vicinity until you turned it off.

You made short work of putting the food away and glanced around. Things were fairly tidy though they could use a dust and a quick vacuum. A peek in both bedrooms had you wrinkling your nose. They’d had back-to-back missions before they’d left on the current one and obviously hadn’t had time to do laundry. While the boys normally slept together, they maintained their own spaces in case one of them was having a bad night or just needed some time to themselves.

Moving into Bucky’s space, you gathered up all the laundry and threw it out into the hallway. You also stripped the bedding and added it to the pile. You put a load in the washer before moving to Steve’s room. There was more laundry there as it was the space they shared the most often. You added to the pile already in the hallway before stripping those sheets as well.

After sorting the clothes into loads, you took about half of them down to your floor and started a load there as well before heading back upstairs. You opened windows in both bedrooms to let them air out as you put fresh sheets on the beds. You dusted and straightened and vacuumed only pausing as necessary to switch out the laundry.

By the time you finished all but the last loads of laundry, their rooms looked better than they had in months and they had clean sheets to crawl into when they got home. You’d cleaned the rest of the floor as well and were heading back to your floor to take care of the last of the clothes. You had to wait a bit for them to finish drying, but then once it was all folded and sorted, you loaded up the laundry basket to put it away. You were happy you’d gotten so much done.

Apparently ignoring your feelings made you productive, who knew? Most of the clothes in your basket were Buck’s so you headed to his room first. You reached for the handle, only to have the door open on its own. Your mouth dropped and the basket fell to your feet as you ran your gaze up a naked torso to see Bucky frowning at you. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and his hair was still wet from a shower. His gaze darted from you to the basket and back as a grin crept over his face. “Fuck,” you breathed out and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”

He reached out and snagged your wrist before you got more than a step. “I don’t think so, sugar.” He tugged you gently back in his direction and lifted your chin with a finger since you seemed unable to look at him on your own. “Where do you think you’re going to escape to anyway, Y/N? We know where you live.”

“I was thinking of moving to Alaska. I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”

“You hate the cold,” he said with a laugh and looped an arm around your waist.

Your heart raced and you prayed that his stupid super soldier senses wouldn’t clue him in, but who were you kidding? You’d never be that lucky.

“Oh, Steve,” he called in a sing-song voice. “I have something for you.”

“Not now, Buck. I’m…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he stepped into the hall and saw you. His ears and cheeks turned a rather adorable shade of red and you couldn’t stop a giggle at the sight. “What’s this?” he asked looking between the two of you.

Bucky nudged the laundry basket into view with his foot. “I intercepted her on her way to put away the last of the laundry.”

Steve straightened immediately. “Oh, did you?”

And damned if his voice didn’t drop a whole octave when he said it. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. You squirmed in Bucky’s hold but didn’t try to escape. There was no point. He chuckled behind you and passed you over to Steve when he held a hand out toward you. You licked your lips as you took it and let him lead you into the living room.

He sat on the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Bucky sat right beside him and pulled your legs onto his lap. You cleared your throat. “I can sit by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, baby,” Steve assured. “But I’m happy with you in my lap. And you like to make me happy, don’t you, Y/N?”

Oh.

My.

God.

That was not fair. Not fucking fair at all.

Steve trailed a finger up your spine, chuckling when you shivered at his touch. His finger continued it’s journey up your neck then back along its previous path as he talked. “When Buck and I were kids, there wasn’t a lot of money to go around. Less so for me because of my meds. Our folks taking care of us meant putting food on the table and mending our clothes. Sometimes there might be enough for a dime novel or some sweets, but for the most part we took care of each other.”

Bucky kept rubbing little circles on your ankle with his thumb. “That hasn’t changed much over the last several decades. You know, except when I was trying to kill him. But then someone else started taking care of us. In a million little ways we didn’t always notice. Not right away anyway.”

“But then we did notice and we started making note of everything that made us feel cared for.” Steve’s hand flattened on your back and his fingers flexed slightly as he said, “Loved.”

“So, tell us, Y/N, why did you do it?” Bucky asked.

You shrugged and stared at your hands where they twisted together in your lap. “I stole your candy and needed to replace it so I picked up some other stuff. But then I saw how happy you were when you had your favorite snacks when you got home and that made me happy. The more I did, the happier and more relaxed you seemed so I kept doing it. I like it when you’re happy. Both of you.”

“That the only reason, baby? You like us happy?” Steve asked as he trailed that damned finger back up your spine.

You jumped out of his lap and stepped back until you were out of easy reach for either of them. They stared at you in surprise and you held out a hand to stop them when they started to stand. “No. You stay put. You two aren’t playing fair.”

“How’s that, doll?” Bucky asked, his blue eyes sparking with amusement.

“You with the touching and the sugar and the arm around the waist,” you said gesturing to Bucky before turning to his boyfriend. “And you with the baby and more touching and the deep voice. It’s not fair. It’s not.” You sucked in a breath. “My entire life I’ve been attracted to the unattainable guy. Every fucking time. But this time I really outdid myself because I fell in love with not just one, but two unattainable men and they’re dating each other. I mean fuck my life. Seriously. What is that? So yes, I did all of this because I love you. Both of you. And I’ll keep doing it for the same reason and it will always make me happy to see you happy. But at the end of the day, you two have each other and I don’t and that’s not fucking fair so stop. Just stop, okay?”

Steve stood first as if afraid to startle you. He stepped forward and swept his thumb across your cheek wiping away the tears you hadn’t been aware of. His hands settled on either side of your neck as he studied your eyes for the longest time. “You’ve got quite the fucking mouth on you, baby,” he said then tugged you forward and slammed his lips onto yours.

You hesitated for only a moment, a brief stretch of time and then you let yourself go. Your Steve was kissing you and it was nothing like you’d imagined. There was nothing soft or questioning about it. It was firm, sure, and altogether fucking fantastic. His hands moved to your thighs and lifted as his lips stayed glued to yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and as he turned, his lips slid from your mouth to travel the length of your neck. His open mouth kisses alternated with tiny nips that were sure to bruise and you rolled your hips against him in response. He hissed against your skin and you smiled.

A large hand grasped your chin and turned your head until another pair of lips slanted over yours. Bucky. His kiss was dark and rich and full of promises. He shifted his body so he supported your back as his hands found the hem of your shirt. Cool metal and warm flesh contrasted against your skin as he slid over your belly and up to caress your breasts. “Oh God.” You rolled your hips again, Steve pressed against your front and Bucky pressed against your ass.

“Fuck,” Steve said as his hands tightened on your waist in an effort to still your movements.

Bucky chuckled against the back of your neck and bit at the skin there, his bite firmer, more punishing than Steve’s. “What’s the matter, punk? She pushing you to the edge already?”

“Suck it, Barnes.”

“I intend to, Rogers.”

That had you grinning. This playful love they had between them was what you wanted. Was part of the reason you fell in love with both of them. Bucky’s gaze shifted to you and he mirrored your grin. “I love you, Buck.”

His grin widened. “You hear that, Stevie? She loves me. God, that’s sexy.” He kissed you soundly then pulled you from Steve’s arms to carry you bridal style to the bedroom. “I love you, too, sugar.”

That earned him another kiss. You put your hand against the door frame to stop him before he could carry you inside. This needed to be said before you were all in bed together. You turned to find Steve with a question in his eyes. “I love you, too, Steve.”

His smile was sweet, soft. “I know you do, baby.” He placed a hand on your cheek and gave you a soft kiss. “I love you, too. Have for awhile if I’m honest. We both have. Turns out we were both feeling guilty for loving someone else and it was the same girl. Never dreamed you’d actually be ours though.” You kissed him again and it only took a moment for it to take on a rougher edge.

Bucky turned you so he could carry you into the room, causing your lips to be pulled from Steve’s. You whimpered at the loss of contact and both men chuckled. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll have more of us than you can handle in a moment.”

You squealed as Buck tossed you into the middle of their king sized bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows and bit your lip as you looked at the two men standing before you. “Promise, soldiers?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a goddamn guarantee.”

#stucky x reader #stucky fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #stucky x you #poly fanfiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry XVI

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), pain/wounds, mild violence.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Barnes lashes out in his grief.

Note: So, it’s not over but most of you guessed that :)

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The sun cast a sardonic light on the cold winter morning. The first flakes of snow fell the night before but glistened as they melted away with the unexpected bloom of light on the horizon. The men began digging at dawn for the interment, a pit to be unmarked and unseen. The woman would be buried as any servant was; without any formality or fanfare.

Lord Barnes dressed in black, the sole attendee of the service. He had dragged a priest from the castle chapel to say some ordained words. The men climbed out of the six-foot hole as the cart was led over by two others, the wooden box atop it.

They lifted it, lifted her, and maneuvered it down into the grave with ropes. The holy man recited his verse but the duke did not hear them. He was only torn from his own grief as he heard footsteps on the crisp grass. He looked over as the foreign baron came to stand beside him, his dark eyes ahead of him as the men began to shovel dirt onto the wood. The sound was harsh in the early hour.

“Go,” Barnes growled, “you aren’t welcome here.”

“Well,” Zemo said, “how is that? After all Werner did for you; for her. I should like a proper farewell.”

“You didn’t know her,” Barnes hissed.

“Oh, I didn’t, but are you so sure that you knew her so well?” Zemo challenged, “you knew what you wanted from her--”

“Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Barnes lifted his chin and turned to face his foe, “I will not tell you to leave again.”

“I owe you no obedience, my lord,” he said flaty, “I think you’ve misunderstood that entirely. The ground we stand on is even. I am beholden to you for nothing. Given that it was my physician who saw to her comfort in her last hours, I’d say you--”

His voice was cut off by the hand at his throat. The duke throttled the Baron with his only hand and backed him away from the grave as the dirty continued to rain down. He marched him across the grass as his blue eyes burned with a selfish sort of hurt.

“I am not stupid. I know you came to rile me and you’ve done just that so go! Go before I put you down beside her,” Barnes shoved him away so that he stumbled.

Zemo stood and touched his throat as a rare glimmer of anger flashed across his features. He raised his chin and fixed the fur collar of his cloak. He nodded as he set his jaw and peered past the furious duke.

“She is free now,” Zemo said, “from you most of all.”

The baron turned away and strode from the green. The duke turned and watched the diggers as they kept at their work. A lump lodged in his throat and he lowered his head. He could not deny Zemo’s words, in fact, they sank so deep his heart ached. He knew as all did that her death was bloody on his hands.

🏰

Lord Barnes watched from the window as the line of carriages rolled through the castle gates. He was smug at the Baron’s premature departure but he didn’t truly feel any better than he had the day before. He expected the knock at the door and he was not surprised by who drew him away from the window.

The door opened before he reached it and his sister blustered into the chamber. Rebecca snarled as she came to face him, of the few who could match his own temper. Her nostrils flared and hardened her soft features as she glared at him.

“You’ve ruined it!” she spat, “you’ve ruined it all! He’s gone and it’s all your fault, you dunce!”

“I ruined it? You really think you could have trusted him? I merely saved you time and gold,” Bucky scoffed as he shrugged her off.

“You are so conceited. Don’t you realise we need this alliance? It’s much bigger than your little maid!” She barked, “oh, all this just to fu--”

“No, no! Shut up!” he spun and pointed at her face, “you don’t speak of her. Your or anyone else.”

She reeled and chortled. She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. She licked her lips sourly and shook her head, “Better yet, I will not speak to you again. You have until the end of the day to leave the capital.”

“Are you mad?”

“I’m serious,” her brows arched, “Samuel agrees with me. You will go and you will not return. Go back to your castle and be alone and bitter as you always wished.”

Barnes huffed and mirrored her own fury, “fine. I told you, I never wanted to come here.”

“So it is my fault now?” she snipped.

“No, your majesty,” he said dryly, “how could anything ever be your fault?”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Oh, queen’s are so powerless,” he rebuffed, “how every woman in the realm must pity you.”

“You’re a bastard,” she sneered.

“We both share the same blood, the same flaws,” he slowly walked back to the window, “you will see in the end that I did you a favour. That man cannot be trusted.”

“Oh, do get over yourself, brother,” Rebecca snapped and the slam of the door marked her exit.

Lord Barnes stared down at the wintery grounds then up at the grey sky. It was due time he went home. To be alone. For good this time.

🏰

Flickers of light skimmed beneath your eyelids. Distant memories, dwindling dreams, and unheard words.

The pain came first. The agony down your left arm and hip, the way it rippled through you like a crashing ocean against the shore. The ragged breaths grew to groans as the ground moved beneath you, rattling like your bones and your head. The noise of horses and wooden wheels in the dirt. The smell of leaves and oak. The feeling of life come back to you.

You could not move your left arm, it was bound and even if it was not, you couldn’t have lifted it. Your left leg was in similar shape and your entire body was bound in pain. The confusion laced your mind and kept you from thinking too deeply as you realised you were in a box, the darkness broken only by the thin wisps of light between the hammered boards.

“Hello?” you called, your throat dry and sore. It hurt to speak and your lungs squeezed terribly.

You bent your right arm, your shoulder straining as you did, and hit the lid. It did not budge and you hit it harder. Your uncertain strikes turned to a steady and frantic pounding as the blackness began to suffocate you. You had to get out. You would die in there. Or were you already dead. You realised what you lay in; a coffin, and your stomach dropped like a boulder.

The wheels stopped and the ground stilled. You were on a cart of some sort and footsteps tramped into the dirt and murmurs stirred outside. There was a thump on the lid and suddenly it lurched upward as it was pried off.

Swathes of light flowed in and blinded you. You stilled and stared up as a figure stood above you and another appeared at the other side of the casket.

“Ah, finally,” the accented tone slithered, “I feared the dose was mistaken.”

You blinked until Baron Zemo came clear to you and shielded your eyes as they watered. You gasped as another shattering pain overtook you and gasped at the sheer torment. The other man, thin and tall with lines around his eyes and across his forehead peered down and reached to check the bandages around your left arm.

“She cannot sit in the carriage but we can arrange for her to recline in there, yes, my lord?” he asked as he felt your forehead, “there is no fever. She is past the worst of it.”

“We can arrange it,” Zemo nodded, “do get her a blanket. We really should have done so before we nailed the top on.”

“Yes, my lord,” the tall man hopped down from the cart and returned with a thick fur coverlet. Zemo tucked it gently around you and as he brushed your arm, you cried out.

“I… I should be dead,” you rasped, “how--”

“A trick. On the gods, on fate… on your Lord Barnes,” Zemo smirked, “oh, do not fear, he hasn’t any idea of your miraculous perseverance. Let me assure you he is most miserable to believe you dead.”

“Why?” you asked as the lid of the coffin was moved away and you heard others moving around. The stench of the horses made you shudder and brack back the scene; the clopping hooves, the roaring crowd, the pulsing of your heart, your maddened laughter.

“You know, I never desired anything more from Lord Barnes. What happened between us was an act of war. We were soldiers but he could not see it that way. I am an understanding man but I am not without reason. If he cannot be civil, why then should I?” He said smoothly, “I came to your kingdom to serve my own and I cannot do that with him snapping at my throat, so I will go home.”

“But why--”

“Patience,” he bid as he lifted a gloved hand, “I could not have factored you in if I tried. You are the most unexpected creature. What you did… well, that sent a very clear message to me, one that I heard.” He looked around and clasped his hands together as he leaned his elbows on his knees, ”I will not claim it to be entirely selfless in my deed, in fact the idea of the deceit does more for me than it could ever do for you. To think of Lord Barnes in his misery, that pompous man.”

“What--Where are we going?” you asked weakly as the wariness crept up on you once more.

“The Tower Zemo,” he said plainly, “in my homeland. You should recover there and then we will decide what to do with you.”

“What to--”

“Nothing too nefarious, I assure you. I should like to avoid the depths of Barnes…” he sniffed, “I don’t expect you to trust me, lady, you would be a fool to and you do not seem one to me. Foolishly brave and perhaps obstinate but not a fool.”

“I--how am I to thank you?” you croaked.

“Don’t do that just yet,” Zemo rose as men approached and suddenly the coffin was slid off the cart.

You were carried around the side of a carriage and set down again. The men worked carefully to remove you from inside the casket and you screamed as they did. Zemo spurred them on and apologised for your discomfort as they transferred you to the lid of the coffin placed to stretch between the seats of the carriage.

The tall man draped the fur over you again and checked your splints and the layers of bandage hidden beneath the loose wool gown. He called for some water and helped you drink. Then he was handed a chest and stirred around for a vial.

“This is Werner,” Zemo said as he sat on the empty part of the bench and the carriage door shut, “he did see that you survived and that you died in the eyes of your master.”

“Oh… thank you,” you looked to Werner as he urged you to drink from the vial.

“Just a sip, miss, for the pain,” he bid.

You did as he told you and reclined again with a grumble. He sat opposite Zemo who watched you with a cryptic expression.

“It will be a long journey,” he said, “and likely longer for you. It would be best if you kept calm and did not stress yourself. You are still… fragile.”

“I feel it,” you closed your eyes as fatigue shrouded you.

“You would,” Zemo said, “sleep is best for it, isn’t that so, Werner?”

“Sleep numbs the pain,” Werner assured, “sleep lets the body heal itself.”

“And sees the time through,” Zemo yawned, “besides, what else is there to do?”

Your breath eased along with the pain and slowly you sank back into the void. You let it embrace you as you forgot about the Baron and his odd physician, about the Duke and the life before. You welcomed sleep as you had death and yet, you were relieved to be alive.

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

Text

Get with me

spencer reid x reader

synopsis; in which you get two sets of news and a happy ending

warnings; mentions of cheating, pregnancy scares, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink (im sorry lmao), praise

pt 2 of ysbuwybf

a/n; patting myself on the back for not bailing on fic requests lmaoo anyways yall were so outa pocket with ideas, all i wanna say is that i am respecting our sweet prince anderson and letting him down gently (i’m writing this before the fic so i could completely switch it up) see end notes for final thoughts :)

hope you enjoy!

*also pls don’t cheat its so icky and a horrible thing to do

***

If your suspicions were correct you were fucked. Part of you would be ecstatic no doubt about it. But if things were true then you were utterly surly fucked.

Your period was late.

Which meant either one; your birth control was acting up or two; you were pregnant.

However being pregnant wasn’t a bad thing, far from it. The bad thing was that there were two candidates in the running to be the father. Your boyfriend, Agent Anderson who was nothing but a sweetheart even though he was about as exciting as a wet paper bag.

Or Dr.Spencer Reid. Your best friend who you had also been sleeping with outside of your relationship. The best man you’d ever known who was also aching to become a father some day.

For a week you had been avoiding both of them in the office. Unfortunately for you there were no cases. While yes a lack of serial killing was always a plus it also meant you were stuck in the same building as them for give or take eight hours a day.

For days on end you stuck in your earbuds and kept your head down while doing paperwork trying to ignore both sets of eyes which would look over to you every once in a while.

Were you even pregnant, was the biggest question. So you had decided that it was time to get your shit together. At lunch on Monday you had made a quick doctors appointment and went on your way. The little old nurse had told you she would call you in a few days with results.

In that time you had gone over every possible scenario or possibility. Who would you tell first? How would you even bring it up? Would Anderson hate you for cheating? Would Spencer be upset that the baby isn’t his? It would be like another JJ situation for him.

The thoughts plagued your mind throughout the week and the more you thought about it the more you thought about who you would have preferred to be the father of your child. Which then led to the guilt of picking and the realization that you in fact would have to break up with Anderson.

If the child did end up being his you would have to make it work, however you knew it was time to come clean and apologize for going behind his back. He deserved to know the truth.

Deep in your thoughts you barley heard your phone ringing. It was now Friday and you weren’t expecting any other calls besides the one from your doctor. You looked around and made sure no one was paying attention before you clicked the green button.

“Hello?”

You heard the voice of the nurse on the line, she sounded almost sad, “Hello am I speaking with Y/n Y/l/n?”

“Yeah this is her,” you said dryly. Your nerves were eating at you.

“Oh sweetie I’m calling with the results of your test. It turns out that you are not pregnant at this time honey.”

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you held in. It felt as is a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“Oh, um thank you for informing me,” you said looking down at your nails.

“Of course. If you have anymore questions you can call back at this number or come in and set up another appointment. Have a good rest of your day.”

With that the line cut off and you fell back into your chair. Your hand subtly moved onto your stomach. Huh. You didn’t think that would be as hard to hear.

“Y/n?” a voice called from behind you.

“Oh hey Andy. Whats up?” you said putting a smile on your face.

He combed a hand through his hair before he sat at the corner of your desk, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you and I think it’s best if I say it clearly and honestly.”

Your brows furrowed. Oh shit did he already know? You had to stay calm.

“Yeah go ahead.”

“I think we should break up. It’s not you, I think we’re just missing a spark. At first it was fun but I don’t think this is gonna work anymore.”

Pot meet kettle, you thought.

“Plus I think Charlotte from Cyber Crimes is into me so yeah,” he trailed off.

You bit your lip to try and hide the laugh you wanted to let out. This was an unseen turn of events. “Yeah I get it. But hey no hard feelings. Go for it with Lotte, she’s a total sweetheart.”

“Thanks Y/n/n,” he said leaning down to give you half hug then gingerly turned and walked away.

Behind you Spencer couldn’t help but listen to the whole interaction. Once he saw Anderson reach the elevator he got up and made his way over to your desk.

You looked up and saw the small smile on his face, “Is it party at Y/n’s desk today?” you asked causing him to giggle.

“I think the news I just heard calls for celebration in the best way we know don’t you think,” he said looking around the bullpen nodding his head towards the hallway which was home to the spacious supply closet.

You looked around and made sure no one was looking. Emily and JJ were gone in Garcia’s lair. Derek was gone visiting his mom and the dads of the BAU were in a meeting.

“Lead the way doctor,” you said standing getting up form your chair.

Once in the closet Spencer wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He sighed at the taste of your cherry chapstick. You put your hands on his face pulling him down but while you were savoring the taste of his lips your mind couldn’t help but go back.

You could have been a mom. Spencer felt your lips slow down instead of returning the passion and stepped away.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you said looking up at him.

He tried to hide the look of worry on his features but you could see right through him as he nodded for you to continue.

“Well earlier this week I uh was supposed to start my period but I didn’t,”

“Y/n-” he tried to cut you off but you put your hand up for him to let you finish.

“I went to the doctors and got a test done. Before Anderson came over I got the call and I’m not. Which is good right? It saved everyone a world of hurt and drama. I don’t know I just thought you should know.”

“Did you wanna be?”

“What?”

“Pregnant,” he said gripping your hips and pulling you closer.

You felt your cheeks get hot at what he was insinuating, “Well- I- yeah. I mean yeah, yes.”

With that he brought his lips back down to yours. This time you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. One of his hands slid to the back of your skirt and pulled down the zipper. You let it slide down your legs and stepped out of it.

You sat on the table in the room, pushing off the bottles of cleaner. Spencer stepped into the space between your legs, his fingers reaching for your panties and tugging them down your legs.

“I can’t believe I get this tight little pussy all to myself now,” he said biting marks onto your neck. You mewled tilting your head to the side and pulling on his tie.

“Spencer please. I need you so bad,” you whined out.

He stepped away and hastily started on undoing his pants, “What do you want baby? Is it for me to fuck you? Or is that not enough? Do you need me to fill you up with my cum? Want me to put a baby in you?”

You moaned at his lewd words and quickly nodded your head. Your hand flew down to your pussy, you were practically dripping onto the table and he had barley touched you.

“Please doctor I need you so bad.”

Spencer quickly stepped into the space again and took both of your hands in one of his large ones, “I own this pussy. I always have, you don’t get to touch without my permission,” he gritted out.

With his free hand he tugged on his cock before aligning it with your leaking slit. The both of you sighed as he pushed in inch by inch. Your head feel back with your mouth open in a perfect O shape.

After a second of letting you adjust Spencer started with rough thrusts. You could feel your hair start sticking on your forehead from the heat of the room. Spencer’s lips were inches from yours, sharing the same breath.

“Fuck I’m gonna fill you up so good. Let everyone here know you’re mine.”

All you could do was nod and moan in approval. His grip on you was deadly but it was just adding onto the immense pleasure you were feeling. The way he was repeatedly hitting your gpot had your vision blurry with stars. You could also feel him pulsing inside you knowing he was close to his peak.

“You look so pretty like this sweetheart. So perfect around my cock.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist bringing him impossibly closer, “I want you to cum in me Spence. I need to feel it,” you mewled into his lips.

This motivated him to start drilling into you. At this point you were panting, aching to feel the sweet release. His hand dipped down to rub on your clit, he groaned at the slippery mess where you both met.

“Oh god Spence!”

A high pitched moan escaped your lips as he added on the extra pleasure. Soon enough you were squeeing around him, ready to milk him for all he was worth.

“That’s it baby. Keep doing that. I’m gonna stuff you with my cum y/n/n fuck,” he said drawing out the last syllable as he exploded inside you.

He stayed inside as you both caught your breathes, slowly thrusting trying to fill you to the brim.

He pulled out and looked for a roll of paper towels for you to clean up. Once that was done you helped each other tame your hair and outfits as you always did, with quiet and loving gazes.

“Do you think that one did the job?” you said with a smirk.

“Well statistically the pill contraceptive has a 7% failure rate so with my calculations there is a chance,” he said while smoothing down your hair.

“Thanks genius,” you said lightly punching his arm, “Lets get out of here. Together.”

“Together,” he said slinging an arm around your shoulders.

a/n; so guys what do we think. im not gonna lie i kinda hate it but i think it was a good ending for everyone. kinda feel bad anderson didn’t get the whole truth but the cheating is OVER! also what did we think of what pregnancy scare?? let me know lovies!!!

#Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #chellewrites

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pinkchanelbag · 3 years

Text

it’s okay; stay

armin arlert x reader

wc: 4k

cw: angst, comfort, pain, childhood flashbacks? armin getting beat up </3 not proofread

note: yes i cried while writing this.

do you remember the days when things were so hopeless that not even he had a way out of it, and all he could do was offer eyes as big as sky-blue plates, and a hand under the table to hold, to anchor you to something when you so badly wanted to drift away. to anchor you to him.

this was how it was, and this was how it continued to be, and as the feeling of impermanence faded, as your bunk bed in the girls’ quarters filled with more personal belongings and you subconsciously scooted backwards from the edge of your seat, stopped standing on tip-toes, you sunk back into your life, and somehow, into armin. as you found more ways to manipulate your daily routine to fit in more time alone with him, you found that you were your most lucid when you were staring down at a pale palm that you held in both hands, tracing the countless ravines of warm skin and looking for patterns or shapes or words. sometimes his fingers twitched when it tickled, and sometimes you’d tell him what word you had spelled out into his flesh and he’d laugh before continuing reading whatever book his nose was so attached to.

the memories move too fast and are too painful. you try your best to maneuver away from the ones that most ache, but each path seems worse than the last.

you’d met him when you were wearing a pale blue dress that stopped at your knees. you only remember this fact because you remember the way it felt as you gripped the fabric close to keep yourself from crying out at the sight of your older brother and his friends kicking at a smaller boy behind a house. you were hidden away after a prompt threat from your brother to go unseen and unheard, because if you interfered or got the bullies caught, he’d make your life an indefinite hell. he’d done it before and he’d do it again, so you stayed out across the road in an alley, your dress turning into a wrinkled wreck between your tiny fingers. there you stayed until the toothless brainless boys had their fill, backing up and shoving shoulders in kudos before running off in a hurry. characteristically, your brother had forgotten to come back for you. you didn’t care. you hated his presence.

a tiny blond heap sputtered and coughed on the floor some distance away. tears sprung to your eyes. you didn’t care. you hated him.

the lump on the floor moaned and rolled over in an attempt at a first step to mobility, which was to no avail as he—the young boy whose scuffed face you now saw—stared up at the sky. it lasted all of two seconds before he gasped and scrambled onto all fours, injuries forgotten as his eyes whipped around the scene of the assault. they landed on something and scurried to it. you narrowed your eyes and watched him dust off a half-wrecked book, sighing and pressing it to his chest. a tear curled over your eye and fell down your chubby cheek. he was a good boy. he laid back against the back of the tall house, and you tucked yourself further down the alley to avoid sighting, but you still watched him, feeling like you’d discovered something sort of very precious.

the next time you saw him was when your mom sent you to the market with a basket and a few coins to buy vegetables for dinner. you were happy to be allowed on your own without the “protection” of your deceptively polite brother. you were confident and unbothered as you took your time to stroll through the vendors. and then you saw him, and some part of you short-circuited. somewhere on the other side of your brain, something launched into overdrive, and you suppose this is what brought your feet forward to stand before him as he eyed a booth of crystals.

“what are you looking at?” you asked dumbly. your voice and presence scared him out of his skin for a good few moments and he froze for a good five seconds before stammering his answer.

“um, i’m looking at, at crystals,” he said. you smiled a little, deciding you liked how he talked. you looked at the table before you, tilting your head curiously.

“why would someone pay for these? couldn’t you just go into the forest and find them yourself?” your tone was incredulous, but when you looked back at armin, he was bewildered to see genuine wonder in your eyes, expecting an answer. an answer from him.

he fiddled with his fingers. “well, these are different, i think. they come from all over the walls and they all have different names and stuff. you wouldn’t be able to find them around here, i think.”

you nodded in comprehension, again looking at the assortment before bending down and pointing to a particular one.

“i like this one,” you said, suddenly sheepish. you clasped your hands to the handle of your basket and looked down.

“that’s called amethyst,” he said shyly, eyeing the deep purple rock with white flecks as it sparkled in the sun. his eyes shifted to you and stayed there for a few seconds before he decided what to do next.

“i’m armin,” he said, and you looked up to see a small hand extended to you. your momentary hesitation had him stuttering, “um, my grandpa said it’s polite to shake someone’s hand when you meet them.”

you really smiled this time, and armin smiled with you. you put your hand in his.

“i’m y/n.”

even at your fresh age, you knew that what you found in armin was different. even when he introduced you to his friends eren and mikasa, who welcomed you without reserve and taught you about love different from that which was familial, compulsory, you knew armin was like no other. you were too young to make sense of it, but it felt like in some way you’d been friends all along but hadn’t met yet; as though it was only a matter of time before you met or maybe you’d met before and forgotten. a ridiculous notion, but you were young, and happy.

things were wonderful.

until, weeks later, as you trudged behind your brother and a few of his friends, who were bored and lazy for the day, you smacked into your brother’s back by accident, not having been looking in front of you. he barely acknowledged you, instead bumping you off his shoulders as he and his friends pointed at a grounded nest of baby birds. interested, you stood on tip toes and peaked over your brother’s shoulder.

“y/n?”

you froze at the soft, questioning voice that called on you from your left. of course it was him, this you didn’t need to look to confirm, but you did anyway. his face sunk in a way that tore at your heart, but still he looked at you with questioning eyes that fell between you and the bullies you now stood amidst, asking for an explanation.

you couldn’t give him one, but you mouthed an “i’m sorry” before armin gathered his wits and silently backtracked his steps before the boys saw him and found something to satiate their boredom.

you didn’t see him for ages, half because he was never around and half because of the shame that paralyzed you. how selfish of you, to accept armin’s friendship when you’d been a person who enabled his suffering?

it wasn’t until almost an entire week later that you saw eren by the river near the market. he sat with a bored expression on his face, head thrown back. he was the most prickly of the trio, and even though you were sure he wouldn’t be pleasant to you, your feet sped towards him.

“eren!” you called, but when his eyes met yours, they turned cold, and immediately he got up to leave. “please wait! please! let me explain!” you stopped a few feet away from him, and he looked over his shoulder at you, and the look on his face made you crumble slightly.

“there’s nothing to explain. if those are the type of the people you hang around, then we don’t want anything to do with you. do you even know half the things they’ve done to armin?” he sneered.

“i do,” you said quietly. eren scoffed, just about ready to leave, until he heard the next bit. “…because they do it to me too.”

from there on, really, it was easy to win back eren’s loyalty, as he had barred you from seeing armin until you put some sort of stop to the abuse he suffered at the hands of your brother. he had said that it wasn’t enough that you were helpless, and that you needed to find a way to help armin out of this, because you’re in a unique position to help and because that’s what friends do. and he was right, and you did it.

on one of those evenings when your brother’s irritating snores didn’t fill the room you shared, you sat upright in bed until the boy himself attempted to sneak back through the window—he was about as subtle as a loosed horse.

he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw your moon-illuminated figure.

“what are you doing!?” he whisper-yelled. your voice was small enough that you didn’t need to whisper, and this way, you were able to fein strength in your voice. part of you thought about how maybe the power was there all along, but your passive nature put not use to it until you made your own friends. armin introduced you to courage, you realized, and you couldn’t help but smile in the dark.

“i know that you sneak out to wreck the farm fences next to jonah’s house,” you said. even in the dark, you could sense his hackles rise.

“so?” he replied, daring you to say the words he thought you might.

“pa said if you did one more bad thing he’d send you to uncle’s ranch to work for the entire summer.” you saw his shoulders tense at perhaps the only thing that scared him.

“there’s something i want from you…”

“and?” he said, seething.

“…and if you don’t do it, i’ll tell mama and pa all the bad things you’ve been doing.”

—

“this really isn’t necessary…” his soft voice spoke, and your heart ached a little at hearing it. eren shushed him while mikasa stood silent as usual, and you stood some distance away from them and waited.

it wasn’t long before your brother’s gang came trudging down the path before the four of you. you could see your brother angrily muttering at one of the other boys who looked displeased. when they spotted you and the others, they made a small ruckus of shoving and incredulous sounds, but your brother had them under control in a moment before looking in front of him.

his eyes met yours first, and you saw the hatred. for once, you didn’t care, and even returned it gracefully, hands clasped in front of you and shoulders tall. he held your gaze for only a few moments longer before conceding and looking at the trio that stood in the middle of the path. eren and mikasa stood in front of armin, but not in his field of vision, ready to defend him. but it wasn’t necessary. after a few moments, your brother shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded begrudgingly, aggressively, at armin, without meeting his eyes. armin’s chest seemed to deflate slightly with relief, tension in his fists gone at the sight of his bully surrendering.

and then they left.

and as soon as they did, armin pushed past eren and came towards you with a smile. you spoke the words that had been close to bursting for the past week, that you wanted to say a million times over to him if it meant he could believe them to be true.

“i’m sorry,” you blurted, and armin blinked in slight surpise before he made eye contact with you, now right in front of you.

“it’s okay,” he said. the words were slow and soft as if he wanted them to materialize in the air for you to see. you couldn’t help it when your eyes teared up as you stared at his blue ones, so impossibly untainted and unnatural in their own right, different than the river or grass fields or pretty crystals or anything at all. for a moment you had a silly thought about all the crazy things armin had told you about the outside, none of them making sense and sounding so supernatural that they surely couldn’t be real, and for a moment you thought that if somehow they were real, these eyes, these impossible orbs were made from the same stuff. supernatural stuff, stuff of nonsense, and that they belonged out there and not in here.

and then he offered you his hand, and you cleared away the mess of over-mature thinking by resolving that he was here now, and you’d be by his side while you had him. for as long as you could.

you look upon him now. you look at supernatural eyes that peer down at mikasa, quiet, powerful mikasa, holding her back from the sound of boot hitting bone. his eyes tell her that this is what needs to happen.

you stand close to the wall, not innocent in the eyes of the soldiers around you but not as guilty as the titan shifter who sits on the floor with blood seeping into his mouth, a disappointed captain before him.

you haven’t been restrained—yet—because of eren’s claim that he more or less forced your hand, as he had done to everyone else when he planned his scheme. it wasn’t entirely untrue. eren told you what he hoped to do all that time ago, because he needed your help. he wouldn’t go to mikasa because of her priority for his safety nor to armin for his priority on peaceful resolve. eren knew you were neither emotionally attached to his wellbeing nor against necessary violence. you didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to act as a spy who gathered information for eren on his best means of communication, the weakest link the command for him to access, and all other needs. but eren told you he’d do it whether you joined him or not, and he wouldn’t ask anyone else, and that having a second hand to facilitate his intelligence would drastically increase his chances of seeing his plan through, therefor the chances of the survey corps making it out of this alive.

no one has come to talk to you yet, but you know that you’ll be dealt with, and you could already predict the questions. when they ask you why you didn’t find another way, you won’t have an answer. you’re sure armin would’ve found a better way and convinced eren of it, or that mikasa would’ve never allowed him to sneak out like he did. but you’re not either of those people, and so when they ask, you won’t have an answer.

for now, all you can do is memorize the faces and figures of your friends whom you haven’t seen in so long. you note mikasa’s hair that’s even shorter than before. the titan markings beneath armin’s eyes. eyes that you avoid desperately because they hurt to look at. they’re just as entrancing, but it’s different now. he finally made it outside the walls. and all that used to be nonsense isn’t anymore. now it’s just the way the world goes, vast and cruel and sometimes beautiful, and those blue catastrophes fit right in.

when he stood at the door of the aircraft and didn’t wait longer than seconds, mere seconds, before he reached out a hand to take his best friend’s, the man who’d turned him into a killer. a crushing truth for you to realize, and as such you can’t even bear to think of armin’s own feelings about it. and yet, he looked him in the eyes. and yet, he took eren’s hand, and in the way only soulbound people can, he spoke words into eren’s heart that only they two could know.

the knowledge of this alone is so much to bare that for the next night and day, you don’t dare go near them.

almost twenty-four hours pass and still all you can do is stare ahead at food rations on the table before you. the aircraft kitchen is small and has exactly three tables lined up for seating. two soldiers sit at the table furthest from you and talk in quiet murmurs while you sit alone, unable to eat.

the door opens and before you can even command your sluggish mind to take note of it, armin is sitting beside you. once you realize it, your whole body tenses. your head instinctually moves to look in his direction, but you stop it before it can, casting a sidelong look in his direction. there’s a book in his hand that he places on his other side. from your peripheral, he doesn’t look at you either. he stares ahead, but you can’t see his face to read what he wants.

“i’ve given you space.”

your entire chest tightens at the sound of his voice. he’s a man now, but somehow the soft timbre is as clear as it was so that “i’ve given you space” sounds not so very different from “i’m looking at crystals.”

“i thought maybe that’s what you needed. but now i don’t know. now i feel like you’re just avoiding me.”

breathing becomes near impossible. you watch you own chest rise and fall heavily and wonder how you can still feel no air in your throat. you can’t look at him. you don’t dare.

“y/n.” don’t say that, you think, the first thought you’ve managed since he got the jump on you. he turns to you then, and still you don’t look. “are you avoiding me?”

you tell yourself you won’t look, won’t talk, won’t acknowledge he’s there, but as soon as he asks you the question, you feel a reply formulating. you don’t have the ability to refuse him. you’re at his mercy, even if it’ll break you.

“i don’t know how to be around you,” you say in a choppy, breathless whisper. armin leans in to hear it, and now you can feel his breath, smelling of brown sugar and fruits from his lunch. at feeling him so close to you after so many months, you suck in your top lip as if it’ll keep you together.

“why not?” and he’s hurt. you can hear it. all his hurt seeps out his pours and all the holes in his body so that even if you don’t look into his face, you can feel it stabbing at your heart. guilt. guilt.

“i’ve caused you pain.” the words are too much, and your chin trembles uncontrollably. the door opens to let in two more soldiers who turn into the kitchen and begin rummaging through a drawer. you bow your head to hide the evident grief on your face. armin breathes onto your cheek and thinks and thinks.

“eren made you do it, y/n. it wasn’t your fault.”

you shake your head lightly.

“‘should’ve done more.” the two soldiers mull over their options of snacks for awhile.

“y/n.” how you wish he’d stop saying your name. “y/n, look at me.” deviantly, you shut your eyes, stiffening your face as much as you possibly can, because you can’t hold on much longer, not when he keeps pushing you like this. not in front of other soldiers, you beg him in your mind. and maybe in a way he understands, because it’s not until the pair in the kitchen have selected a food and walked out that armin raises a hand to your chin and delicately guides your head to face him. you suck in a breath and squeeze your mouth shut to hold onto the anguish inside you, and then you’re looking at him. the first of your tears falls when you see the concerned, pained set of his brow, his soft lips downturned like a sad pup. his eyes. they burn into you. they wither the fabric of your soul.

“y/n,” he says again, letting go of your chin. you know he can’t find words to say, because there are no words. no words for all that’s happened and all you’ve done. rather than speaking, he does something much worse.

he reaches into your lap where your hands are clasped by the fingers in an iron grip. panic fills your features as you shake your head fearfully at him, but he doesn’t exercise mercy on you as he takes your two hands into one of his, warm and scarred and you can’t breathe.

he pulls your hands to his own lap, and in a stroke of—all you can call it—madeness, he delicately pulls your hands apart and places one of his own on his lap, palm facing the ceiling. he settles one of your hands on his palm and nestles the other one underneath, as if guiding you to hold one of his hands with yours. immediately, you understand the words he’s delivered to your heart. your face crumbles, shoulders sag. you stare into his palm and trace shaky fingers across ridges where beneath skin lies bones. you feel each line that builds to make peculiar images and spell all kinds of words, that forms the illustration of a boy filled to the brim with pain and somehow exhuming only love. a beaten boy lying behind a house and staring into the sky, a boy whose eyes don’t really resemble anything at all because maybe they’re unearthly, an entire world unto themselves, a boy whose mere existence pains you because you can’t take his pain away and he’s far too pure to have endure so much. a good boy.

tears drip onto your pants and take over your cheeks in silent anarchy, because you can’t take whatever it is this boy is made out of. because he offers his hand to you and still meets your eyes after everything, and because his palm spells forgiveness.

your eyes find his, and say there in silent grief as your hands touch. his gaze is calm, peaceful, assuring. in it you see refuge. redemption. you think that maybe your soul can take it. you bare all of yourself to him in one look, but you trust him completely.

after some time, the two soldiers remaining get up and dispose of their dishes in the sink, casting side glances at the colossal titan and the rogue soldier who hold hands on the eating table. they take their leave.

you try to put it into words. and of course, of course there are none.

“armin,” you breathe. you inhale sharply, because finally it comes. “oh, armin…” you sob, slowly descending into his chest. his arms come around you, and he cradles the back of your head and holds your upper body against himself. you grip his shoulders for dear life and lay your face into his neck, finally, finally, weeping.

“i’m sorry,” you choke. your tears are hot and wet on his neck.

“it’s okay,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “it’s okay.” you shake your head as if to say it’s not and he runs a hand up and down your back as if to say it is. i promise it is.

he reaches behind him to pull one of your hands off his shoulder and hold it in his own, bringing them to his chest. your close contact makes it so both your hands press against both your ribcages at once, and astonishingly, you can hear two heartbeats.

“armin,” your body shakes in his embrace.

he squeezes your hand hard enough to hurt, but you squeeze back just as tight. as if to say to you, stay with me, and as if to tell him, i will. i will.

#this fic was written over the duration of like 2 weeks so sorry if it’s choppy!#nia.txt #nia.armin #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #eren yeager #attack on titan season 4 #eren yaeger headcanons #attack on titan spoilers #eren jeager x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #armin smut #armin headcanons #armin x reader #armin arlert imagine #armin attack on titan #armin aot

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teddy06writes · 3 years

Text

Greek Myth Series: Eros and Psyche Part One

Eret x afab! reader

trigger warnings: yelling, mentions of pregnancy

premise: so the story of Eros and Psyche is kinda complicated, and no that many people know it, if you want to find out about it in a different context you can here or if you want to go into this blind, go ahead.

list of Greek Gods/characters for this work

Eros- Eret

Aphrodite- Puffy

Zephyrus- Philza

Zeus- Dream

Pan- Tubbo

{I tried to keep this gender neutral, but in the myth Psyche does end up pregnant, and its kind of a big plot point, I'm sorry.}

{also I forgot how long this story is, so I'm going to split it in two, on one hand so that I don't leave yall without content, and two because it'll be easier for me that way}

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There was a city state, long ago, near the sea, that was known for its beautiful royal family. The eldest daughters of the king had been considered the most beautiful in all of the land, until the youngest child, (y/n), came of age.

It is said that their beauty surpassed that of everyone in the kingdom, and where ever they went the people flocked, eager to earn their favor.

(y/n) knew of their beauty, but they did not look upon themself in vain, but they did know that this beauty caused jealousy among many, especially their sisters.

What they did not expect of this, was when the people of their kingdom began to worship them, as if they were the goddess of beauty, Puffy herself.

Now this was never something that (y/n) wanted, all they had wanted was to live a normal life, but now they had to stay shut up in their chambers, trying to ignore the cries from outside.

They were admired by all, yet wanted by none.

And as Puffy grew jealous, and planned with Eret to exact her revenge, (y/n)'s father sought help from the good oracle of Delphi, what was he to do if everyone in the land loved their looks, but no one wanted their hand in marriage.

As the months passed, and their chambers seemed to become even more like a prison and their sisters married other monarchs, (y/n) began to loath their beauty, wishing there was some way to be rid of it.

Having returned from his journey to Delphi, the king entered their chambers, "My child," Said he, "I have sought an answer, and answer, the oracle has given."

"And what answer is that?" (y/n) asked.

"In three days time we will hold your wedding," He took a shaky breath, "You are to be wedded to a dreadful monster, and in three days time, we will take you to the rock spire, at the edge of our kingdom, and leave you to him."

A gasp rippled through (y/n)'s throat, and they fell to their knees, "Father please don't leave me to die!"

He shook his head, "It is already done."

The three days passed in quick succession, and soon, (y/n) found themselves being led through the kingdom, dressed in a blackened wedding gown.

As their parents wept, they held their head high, having resigned to their fate.

Upon reaching the top of the spire, their family tearfully departed, leaving (y/n), wind whipping through their hair, dreadfully alone. Slowly, they inched closer to the edge, staring down to the rocky shore from which the pillar had grown.

A partially strong gust of wind caught them in the back, unexpected, and as they toppled over the side a scream ripped through their throat.

It took them a moment to realize that they had not made impact with the ground, that rather, they were floating, flying, being carried across the lands.

"Fear not," A disembodied voice assured them, "I am Philza, the west wind. No harm shall come to you."

(y/n) remained terrified until they were at last gently set upon the soft grass of a meadow.

"Go now, explore your new home." Philza urged.

Slowly, (y/n) moved forward, gaping as a huge villa came into view at the other end of the valley. As they drew further up the path, more disembodied voices greeted them.

"What is this place?" They asked softly, looking around in amazement.

"Why do you wonder so much of this finery? It is your own, do go inside, and rest and bath, and then there shall be a great feast." A soft, breezy voice returned.

Hesitantly, they did, enjoying a fresh bath, and much food and entertainment, but slowly, as night began to fall, the gayety died away, and they were urged to get ready for bed.

Having changed into night clothes, and climbed into bed, the lights were dimed by unseen servants, and they were told, "Rest now dear, your husband shall arrive soon."

"My husband?" They asked, confused, but there came no answer.

They laid awake, anxiously, until footsteps sounded on the floor.

"Who are you?" They demanded.

There was a soft chuckle, "Worry not, sweet (y/n), I am not here to hurt you. A husband should never have such intentions with his betrothed."

"Who are you?" They asked again, shuffling away as a weight settled on the other side of the bed.

"Your wife," she repeated, "I must admit, I didn't think of the consequence you might have faced upon hearing that dreadful fake of a prophecy. My dear, I am sorry, but could find no other way to take you away from the prying eyes of some."

Slowly, he retold the story, of how he had fallen in love with them, for the way that they had carried their burden, and when she had heard the plans of many, that they had to get them away.

"Alas, my sweet, you may not know my name, nor may you ever be permitted to see me, for it might tear us apart. For that, I am sorry."

There was a note of sadness in his voice, enough to tug at something in (y/n)s chest.

He had away-ed at dawn, long before (y/n) awoke, leaving them to their thoughts of what had happened that night.

The following days seemed to follow the same pattern, until soon a week had passed, and then the weeks began to blend into months.

Back in the kingdom, in which (y/n) had lived, word had reached their sisters of what had happened, and each day they began to gather at the spire, calling for them, wishing they hadn't disappeared.

But, their husband warned them, that even though (y/n) could hear there voices, they must never call back, and the sisters may never be allowed into the valley.

For some time, (y/n) worked to comply, but hearing the despair in their sisters voice wore them down slowly, to the point where even when they were remind of how cruel the women could be, they did not care, and only wanted to see them again.

It got to a point, where one day, after their husband had left, they slowly crept from the villa, and dashing across the valley, called to Philza, begging him to take their sisters to the valley.

"Are you sure, (y/n)?" He asked.

"Yes, please, I'd do anything to see them again!" They begged.

Reluctantly, Philza's winds carried the sisters to the valley, where (y/n) embraced them, "My sisters! Don't weep! I'm safe!"

They hugged them back just as tightly, before letting go and looking around at the valley, and the villa.

"You live here?" The eldest asked.

"Yes, it is my husbands villa." They replied with a smile, "Come, I'll give you the tour, and then we may walk the gardens."

As the siblings moved from room to room, and (y/n) gave their tour, the sisters became increasingly jealous.

They had been married to old men, hardly holding onto their titles as king, why should their little sibling get all of this?

Soon, they were seated in the garden, nibbling on the food the servants had prepared.

"You certainly live in luxury (y/n)." The middle sister remarked.

They nodded, "Yes, I suppose I do."

"How does your husband afford all this? What does he do?" The elder asked.

"Well..." They trailed off, thinking, "I'm not sure."

"You mean you don't know?"

Slowly, (y/n) explained what had happened, and their husbands conditions of never being seen.

"Oh (y/n), honey," she pulled a sympathetic face, "He's clearly hiding something from you, and such a shame, you being pregnant with his child."

They glanced down at their stomach, they weren't showing that much, were they?

"It might turn out to be a monster, for all you know. You've never even seen him."

"No! He's not a monster!" They insited.

The sisters continued to build up the idea of their husband lying, or disguising himself, both in a subtle agreement to ruin everything (y/n) had.

"he's not!"

Frowning, one sister leaned forward and patted her hand, "Maybe, but you don't know. Just to be sure, when he has gone to sleep tonight, light a lantern, and look at him, just to be sure."

"I think you should go." (y/n)s voice was hard, and soon Philza was returning them to the kingdom from which they had came.

Night returned, and along with it, their husband.

She had fallen quickly to sleep, though (y/n) lay awake, their sisters voices filling their mind.

What if they were married to a monster?

Slowly, shakily, they rose, and finding a lamp, carefully lit it, before turning to their wife's side of the bed.

In the flickering lantern light, (y/n) beheld their husband for the first time, dark brown hair falling in curls about their head, and large feathered flings pooling at her back.

They gasped in amazement, turning to find a set of quiver and arrows at the foot of the bed, suddenly it made sense. The bow, the inhuman beauty- they had wed the god of desire, Eret.

Some how, all at once, they fell in love, toppling over the metaphorical cliff they had stood near for sometime, as the lamp suddenly felt to heavy for their hands.

Shaking, they moved to set it down, but not before a drop of oil spilled, landing on the gods shoulder.

In a cry of pain, she awoke, and looked up at (y/n) with wide eyes.

Without another word, they stood, gathered their things and began to leave, as they had come flying through the open windows.

"No! Please don't leave! I love you!" (y/n) cried, seizing his arm.

"You fool!" He roared, dragging them along with her, "I risked everything! I went I against mine own mother! She told me to punish you! and yet I fell in love! I created all this! All of this just to get you away from her prying eyes!

"Now the magic is fading you poor poor fool! She will find you now! You won't have much time! You- you listened to your sisters didn't you! They wanted this! I told you to not listen to them! You lie! Regard me as some beast to peak on in the night!" At last they shook (y/n) off, and they went tumbling to the ground.

"No love can exist with out trust."

With that they flew away, leaving (y/n)s cries for her to stay. And Leaving (y/n) alone, so terribly alone.

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Tag list: (send a request to be added, it will only be for this series)

@dreamslittlebitch

#mcyt x reader #eret x reader #the eret x reader #teddy 06 #teddy 06 writes

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

the one that got away

— FROM THE DRAFTS ; PINING, BAGELS, REPEAT

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x Reader WORD COUNT: 807 SUMMARY: You are suddenly struck with cold feet before the trip to the wedding. Takes place right after they leave the Glasshouse in Chapter 7, Baby It's Wild World. A/N: I just felt like releasing a whole mini section I took out from part seven. Exclusive content, ya know. Totally random, totally unnecessary. I was just missing Bruce goddamn Wayne, to be honest. gif from this gifset by @acecroft WARNINGS: Swearing, Grammatical errors ( I didn't bother to check this one ) support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Silence. No conversation, no music. Just the deafening sound of the whirring engine as you drive past the remnants of the Wayne Manor structure. Overhead, you’re approaching a fork in the road, a tightness in your chest, rigid shoulders and fingers tapping against the steering wheel. Bruce can ultimately feel the tension radiating from you like the goddamn sun. Something is on your mind and he can’t help but prod.

“Are you okay?”

Your heartbeat quickens at the sound of his voice, soft and merely a whisper, feeling his fingers against the bend of your shoulder. Almost instinctively, your foot firmly pressed against the brake pedal, sending the two of you forward from your seats due to the momentum. His hand has left your shoulder, now gripping the edge of your seat, eyes wide. Yet, he doesn’t say anything and you can’t bring yourself to look at him, mind heavy with running thoughts.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Your hands grip onto the wheel like it’s the only thing keeping you together, chewing the inside of your cheek as your question is left hanging in the air. He makes no sound.

You finally turn to look at him and he’s staring at you with those damn eyes. It’s a simple question but you can’t help but feel there’s an underlying meaning so hard to configure that you don’t even know if there is one. You can’t shake the terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach. “I know you already agreed but there’s still time to turn back around.” It’s pretty obvious you have cold feet but you like to pretend it’s because you’re trying to protect him from your growing affection and love for him like it’s a minefield and you’re afraid that he’ll walk into an area of unseen hazards that are your family members that know you so well. Someone will find out and eventually someone will slip up. You have your hand on the gear stick, ready to move it back to reverse.

Then, you watch his face soften and his hand finds your shoulder once more. “Look, I’ve known you for years and I’m only now beginning to realize I know nothing of your family other than your mother and we’ve only met twice,” he pauses, pursing his lips in thought. “Unless you don’t want me to know—”

“No, I just—maybe, I just needed a clear explanation to all of this. I was just honestly finding it hard to understand why you would agree to this but I guess that makes perfect sense. I mean, It’s just my cousin’s wedding, isn’t it?” A nervous chuckle slips past your lips and you think your mind is playing tricks because you almost believed that your sentence slightly upset him as much as it did to you because of how his face fell. It’s the size of the car and the weight of his hand on your shoulder that puts your mind almost in a daze because you can’t help but think how easy it is to just lean over and kiss him senseless. You catch yourself in the act of staring at his lips, instantly looking back up at his blinking eyes, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

Bruce doesn’t notice because he’s also too busy looking at yours as well.

Whatever the hell the moment is, it quickly passes and the two of you try to conceal the sudden flurry of panic arising. “Right.” is all he says before squeezing your shoulder and slipping it back to rest against his lap, flashing you a faint smile.

“Right.” you respond like an echo only because you don’t know what to say but felt you should say something although you’re sure it won’t help with your disability to hide the slight bitterness in your voice. As if you were expecting for something to come out of this inane conversation and now, your car still sits at the junction, surrounded by nothing but overgrown forestry. Your hand returns to grasp the wheel, eyes tearing away from him, you look up and down the two opposing roads that meet in the middle. Fuck, this is gonna be a long trip.

But, you wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you, Bruce.”

You step on the gas and make a turn while your car makes a sound equivalent to a dying horse. Bruce looks at you with nearly troubled eyes and you merely send him a wink.

He spends the next fifteen minutes sitting closer to the air conditioning, trying to smother the roaring fire between his ribs before his face starts to appear clearly flushed. Yet, he enjoys the warmth you consistently bring to him and with the days becoming colder, he somehow appreciates the effect you have on him.

#bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #justice league

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inkformyblood · 3 years

Text

towards an unseen day

Day 03 of @bobadinweek prompt: Caretaking

Warnings: None

Laughter echoed down the small side tunnel, deep and rumbling through the earth like an aftershock, and Din paused, letting the sound wash over him.

His hand — still pressed to the wall — brushed over the symbol carved there, the chill of the stone settling into his bones as his bare skin traced the lines he couldn’t read but understood all the same.

There had been a strange look in Boba’s eyes when he took Din’s hand — pausing first, his gaze flickering upwards in a silent question — to place it against the symbol when he first carved it into the rock wall. He had mentioned the Kaminoans, and their fluorescent ink that the clones had quickly learned to hack into their HUD display, with a note of mournful laughter in his voice, but hadn’t said what the symbols meant. His free hand had curled through battle-signs as he spoke, so Din could guess well enough: home, safety, return.

An ache had settled into Din’s bones, and every step closer to home lightened his burden, but still he waited, his head tipped to one side as he listened. There was a second current of laughter, tumbling after the first like a shadow, high and uncoordinated. His steps were faster now, warmth flooding through his chest and he input the code as quickly as his trembling fingers would let him.

Light filled the small room, heralded in a thousand shimmering fragments from the mirrors suspended above, reflecting the scrap of sunlight that fell through the barred window. Lining one indented wall was an array of packaged ingredients but the order was disrupted by clear gaps like missing teeth in the neat rows. Across the opposite wall hung a tapestry, currents of scarlet and bronze dancing through a background of dark blue, the careful images of the constellations above Tatooine picked out amongst a stylised set of Mandalorian armour, but the figures in front captured Din’s attention utterly as he pulled his helmet off, clipping it onto his belt.

Boba was without his armour, dressed in instead in a loose linen shirt that clung to the broad curve of his shoulders and fell past his hips to his thighs, and dark trousers. The birikad across his chest had been modified with the dark green fabric tied around the ring on Boba’s shoulder to allow Grogu to watch the world around him.

The child’s hands were stretched towards the fruit laid out on the counter in front of him, already stained with the dark berry juice, and, as Din watched, a sliver rose into the air. It hung for a moment, commanded by a power Din could barely wonder at, before Boba plucked the fruit, his hands stained with purple smudges and threw it into his mouth.

“Patoo!” Grogu demanded, his ears twitching, but his darkening mood passed in an instant as Boba ducked his head to smooth a kiss over his forehead, tapping the curve of one ear carefully.

“Later, kid. Save some for your buir.”

Boba tipped his head, his grin broadening as he caught Din’s gaze, and picked the knife back up. Grogu babbled, waving a hand towards one of the bowls before twisting to peer up at Boba.

“Yeah, that’s the next one. Good job.”

Din’s chest felt too full, too warm, barely able to breathe for fear of disrupting the scene in front of him. He had never imagined that he would have a life close to this. The closest he got to imagining his future was a shapeless plan to provide as best as he could for the foundlings and his covert. His usual grace had abandoned him as he stumbled forward, resting his hand on the table as the expected aches and pains made themselves known, radiating down his spine and legs.

Grogu turned with a shriek of delight, his eyes bright and reached from the pouch, almost over balancing to try and reach Din sooner. He caught the child, scooping him up to press their foreheads together. The scent of tart berries clung to him, mixing with the comforting warmth of blue milk and the herbs that were mixed into the laundry to keep them fresh.

“Missed you, womp rat.”

This close to Boba, he could sense rather than see the grin that spilled across his face, but Din moved up to kiss him before it could reach fruition. The scars on Boba’s lips, ridged against Din’s oversensitive skin made a shiver roll down his spine, the action mirrored as his beard scratched against Boba’s cheeks. Din broke away, shifting to press his forehead to Boba’s, Grogu cooing in the crook of his arm in satisfaction. The slight pressure of the Force against the back of his head made Din pause, but Boba was already moving to blindly tap his finger against Grogu’s cheek in gentle admonishment.

“We’ve got the memo, kid. Don’t need any outside help here.”

Din chuckled, reflexively trying to stifle the noise at Grogu’s disgruntled whine, and gently rocked all three of them, his free hand slipping to rest on Boba’s waist. The shape of a modified blaster, carefully hidden beneath the loose fabric made him pause, his laughter breaking free once again.

“Could hear you coming down the tunnels. But can’t get complacent.” Boba’s words were grave and tinged with bitterness, and Din nodded, careful to not break their connection.

This small room attached to both of their chambers and Grogu’s room had become a sanctuary of sorts. The shelves held ingredients suitable for long term storage in case they needed to shelter, and next to the door lay the familiar shapes of their grab bags. Grogu’s had been a new addition — a small brown knapsack, contrived to have as many pockets as possible — and Din knew some of them were already filled with the snacks he enjoyed, and that the kitchen staff kept slipping to him when Din and Boba pretended not to notice.

“How was the job?” Boba stepped away with one final gentle kiss, squeezing Din’s hand around his waist before he picked up the knife again. He picked up the bowl Grogu had indicated earlier and removed one of the yellow fruit from within. It’s skin was tough and ridged, and Boba anchored it on the board before working on piercing the knife through it.

“Well as could be expected at first. The traps and countermeasures he had set up against the Imperials were well-made, and just as effective against me.”

Din felt Boba’s worry rumble through him as if he was back on the ship, the rthymic sticky sound of the knife blade pausing as he looked him over. Grogu babbled, patting his chest plate, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I managed. That’s why you pay me well.”

Boba scoffed, and Din knew that his plans for the evening had just changed. The palace boasted an impressive set of heated baths in its depths, and Din had been looking forward to sinking into them. Boba wouldn’t rest until he catalogued every new wound and every purpling bruise.

Din let his thoughts wander for a moment, lingering on the warm steam that seemed to stick to the skin and the press of Boba’s hands — the callouses so like his own, rough but a sign of skill and training that made his head swim — against the ache that had settled in the curve of his shoulders and the fresh wound wrapped around his thigh. His gaze drifted to Boba’s, taking in the knowing grin on his face.

“Later,” he promised, an eyebrow raised as he inclined his chin towards Grogu curled into Din’s arms.

Din’s answering blush was immediate, feeling as if he had scorched his skin with his flamethrower, the heat spreading down his neck and across his chest. “He took some convincing but the information you gave me is still good.”

⁂

The blaster shot cracked against the wall just above Din’s head, the heat leaving a burning line across the edge of his beskar. He bit back a curse even as a grin, wide and unrestrained, slipped across his face.

His approach to the small encampment had been slow, a careful waltz around the concealed jagged traps that lined the walls of the ravine — all carefully at head-height for the average human and designed to be deadly. Their make was familiar, the twisted knots at the top arranged in a pattern that almost looked like a hand gesture. Boba tied knots for his snares the exact same way.

The intelligence he had managed to gather independently of Boba’s thriving informant network hadn’t proven to be of much use. A sea of closed mouths and gazes that turned away the moment they could, as impenetrable as any wall, greeted him at the small bar next to the single spaceport. The man had clearly managed to win their loyalty, something that seemed to be a reoccurring thread with these missions.

He was skilled with a blaster, proving it with another shot, curved through a modified barrel to try and draw Din out of hiding. Din went with the motion, catching the shot on his vambrace and directing it harmlessly into the dirt, and he ran towards the next outcrop, hearing the clicks and whirs of the blaster reloading echoe clearly.

“Kark off, Imp!” The man’s shout was clear, rage clear through every word, and Din watched the flicker of the shadow move, elongated through the setting sun. “I’m not joining your karking plot so you can shove it up your arse!”

“Boba Fett sent me!” Din called. A bubble of laughter settled in his chest, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, but he pushed it down. There would be time later.

Siblings, wherever they were found, held a note of similarity between them, and Boba and his many brothers were no different to Din and his covert.

The face that appeared in the small gap of the overhanging rock, barely visible theough Din’s visor, was similar enough to Boba that he could chart the similarities: the same unhinged grin, the same dark eyes and the same way of assessing the situation, his gaze focused like a sniper’s guide. But the clone had a shock of dark curls shot through with grey, grown wild after being cut back for so long and hanging at uneven lengths, and faint tattoos around his eyes, pale lines tracing around two large ovals like a Togruta’s markings.

“Boba? My ori’vod’ika sent you?” His voice in sharp contrast to the ringing shout before was quiet and pensive before his jaw closed with a snap and the rifle was drawn to his shoulder once more. “Talk faster.”

“Remember Docking Bay Seven!” Silence greeted Din’s call, as it had everytime before. Boba had shared many parts of his childhood on Kamino with Din from the small quarters he shared with his father to some of the training missions he undertook with the other clones but there was a wealth of adventures and occurrences that he couldn’t speak of.

Din understood. He couldn’t put into words the time he spent with Paz, the hours of meaningless conversations or the spark that had bloomed between them on their first meeting, tipping his face back to stare into the half-finished tattoos that ran over the other boys face like lightning strikes. But that phrase… it meant something precious to the clones Din had managed to retrieve from their bolt holes.

The clone above him laughed, wild and unrestrained. “Bob’ika has done well for himself then! Word of advice, your armour reflects sunlight like a signal flare. I saw you coming yesterday.”

“But you didn’t run.”

The man swung himself down, the muscles in his arms flexing in a deliberate display of power and control. When he stepped closer, it was a swagger, confident and sure of himself. “I am still a soldier, not matter what happened. I don’t run from a fight.”

“None of the information mentioned a name or a signifier,” Din began, and the man’s eyes widened for a moment, old surprise still fresh and burning. “What would you like to be called?”

“You retrieve many clones for our Boba?” The man’s gaze slipped over him, lingering on the mud horn on his pauldron and taking in the careful free space waiting for Boba’s mark. His grin was worn with melancholy, and his hand moved to touch the fanged necklace corded around his throat before brushing against the dotted lines tattooed across his cheek as it circled his eyes.

“Enough. There’s a compound on Tatooine many of them stay at. Some travel.”

“Tatooine?” Laughter rumbled through him, a burst of humour several of the other clones had displayed and Din couldn’t begin to wonder at. “Of course it is.

“Call me Alpha-17. That’s the name I chose for myself before all this.”

⁂

Boba hummed as Din finished recounting his mission, pausing to tap the blade along the board, now slick with a pale green juice.

“Alpha-17 helped train the younger clones after the trainers focused their attentions more on the speciality tracks. The Alpha class was one of the few that my buir hand-trained.”

Boba reached over, a piece of dripping fruit cradled in his palm, and Grogu plucked it carefully, his claws piercing slightly into the exposed flesh. The juice ran over his arms, glistening trails darkening the fabric of his robe, but Din’s attention was captured by Boba. He had raised his palm to his mouth, pale liquid spilling down his chin, and heat bloomed in Din’s belly, immediate and severe.

What he had left out of his recounting was the question he placed to Alpha-17 as they travelled. Food had been important to the covert, and learning a new recipe and perfecting it was considered the first true step towards a formal proposal.

The man had laughed, immediately plucking Din’s intentions from his careful questions, and answered as honestly as he could remember. Jango’s food was sacred to Boba, each remembered meal a sacrifice and a prayer, the kitchen made holy by his devoted attention, so Din worked at reconstruction, following the thread as devoutly as he would a bounty.

Boba paused, stretching out to draw Din down to kiss him once more, his mouth sweet and sticky, and Din marvelled at the life they had made and the possibility of what came next, each carving out a place for the other to shelter.

#bobadinweek2021 #BobaDin #the mandalorian #Star Wars #din Djarin #boba fett #grogu djarin #my writing

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “Angel Wings.”

Setting up for some other stuff really quick, don’t worry I am going to finish the krill arc, I just needed to jump away from it really quick. Hope you enjoy today’s story :)

“I am not willing to take unnecessary risks.”

“We don’t have enough men to cover all that area.”

“We will do what has to be done.”

“With all due respect, Admiral, do you understand how big space is?” There was a silence in the room, twenty or so men and women stood around a large dark table. All around them on the walls light up star maps and ship configurations glowed blue in the dim holographic light. On the table before them a star map had been laid out casting shadows upon the faces of men and women.

Admiral Vir was sitting partially facing admiral Massie who was half standing, his heavy frame leaning palms flat against the table.

The two stared very intensely at each other, the older man trying to dominate the younger with the sheer intensity of his presence. It was rather unfortunate for him that after two years of almost continual active service in space, Admiral vir was used to being stared down by Adaptids, Starborn, Drev warriors, and --on occasion-- space dragons, so this rather portly man in a funny hat was unlikely to get a rise out of him.

“You better watch your tone, boy.” The man hissed quietly

Admiral Vir looked back at him unblinking, “This is the 41st century Admiral, and that superiority bullshit isn’t going to stack up to experience, so I will watch my tone when you sit down and realize that what you are suggesting, not only puts our entire fleet, and all of the fleets of the GA at risk, but it's also based on outdated military naval strategy from a thousand years ago that does not take into consideration that space is, in fact, three dimensional.”

The men and women about the table shifted awkwardly in their seats, unsure how to proceed.

To some degree superiority DID fly, especially within the Office of Galactic Intelligence, where Admiral Massie was head officer, but out there, among the stars, where Admiral Vir had spent nearly 90% of his career, the ability to question your superiors could be a matter of life and death.

In the end it was Admiral Kelly, a strong political supporter of Admiral Vir, and his long time ally who leaned forward in her seat, “I think Admiral Vir does have a point. He is, after all our resident expert in galactic warfare.” She looked around the table, “I don’t see anyone else here who has been involved in a pitched space battled?”

There was murmuring and the shuffling of feet.

She Adjusted her cup of coffee lightly where it sat on the desk, “In fact the only person here who has ever flown a ship, being me, would have no idea how to go about galactic combat, so Admiral Vir, please proceed.”

Admiral Vir stood and nodded to Kelly before taking his stand at the head of the table.

“As I was saying earlier, putting warp gates too far out near the border of the system is inadvisable and extremely risky. Even if those warp gates were to be accessed through a security code on the ship itself, I wouldn’t trust that someone wouldn’t be able to hack them. Which is why I suggest keeping the warp gates towards the center of the GA system, but not near planets themselves. There are only a few ships galaxy wide that can approach a planet unknown and unseen, those being the major command vessels used with most GA species. All other ships would require access to a warp gate, or be forced to do multiple warps before reaching the system giving viewers enough time to ready for an attack. My suggestion is, instead of trying to protect the entire GA system, we make hub nexuses around the most important sites, planets, colonies, stations, and warp gates. Then we station smaller military vessels around those areas to keep enemies out. If we were trying to cover the entire area, the only people who might be able to show up in time to defend against an entire arriving fleet are myself and a select few others. If that were to happen we might be completely taken out in one fell swoop. No, better to reinforce likely areas of attack, defend and use the warp gates for what really matters, and allow ships like mine to free float and provide support when needed.”

There was silence about the room as the other men and women nodded.

Admiral Massie glowered at him from the other side of the table.

Admiral Vir ignored him.

He played politics, but only so far as not playing was playing. He wasn’t looking to move up in the ranks, and he wasn’t looking to make enemies. Everyone in UNSC command knew and understood that he had only one goal, and that was to keep his people alive and well. While his unsheathed interactions with some of the other Admirals made him unpopular, particularly within the ranks of some of the older generations, it was hard to deny that he did his job well.

Then again he and Admiral Massie had been at each other’s throats since the start of Vir’s command.

Massie was a planetary isolationist and had opposed joining the GA since the beginning, while Admiral Vir was a staunch supporter of intergalactic cooperation and alliance. Admiral Massie was under the impression that Admiral Vir had romanticised the idea of extraterrestrial life to the detriment of earth itself, and Admiral Vir thought Admiral Massie was a pompous jack-off with more interest in his political career than he was in the lives of his men.

Both of them may have been right to a certain degree.

Either way the other admirals, while being somewhere middling on the spectrum, tended to lean towards agreeing with Admiral Vir when it came to discussions about planetary defence. He was, after all, the only one with personal experience in the area, and they didn’t really have time for Massie and his superiority complex.

It was for many of these reasons, that their meeting eventually steered itself towards a discussion on isolationism versus GA involvement.

“It isn’t our job to deal with THEIR problems. We lose trillions of dollars every year to the defence of alien species, and for what? What can they do for us that we cannot do for yourself as a much lower cost.”

“If it weren’t for our intervention, Admiral, the entire GA system would be overrun with Burg, and we would be next.” Admiral Vir cut in gently pounding his fist against the table for emphasis.

“Not if we fortify our own strongholds.” The man continued to argue.

Admiral Vir felt his skin going hot under the collar, but took a deep breath to calm himself, “You forget about the over ten human colonies that exist within GA airspace. This may have been an argument two years ago, but with those colonies in existence as of now, we cannot abandon them for an isolationist principle. Furthermore, we need the cooperation of the GA in order to buy and sell the materials needed to keep the economies of those colonies running. Without them we don’t have the resources, the time or the labor to be isolationists.” He relaxed back into his seat and allowed the other Admirals to jump in with their two cents.

He would have liked to stay quiet and just listen, buthe found he was actually a poor hand at keeping his mouth shut when someone was saying things that could be potentially harmful to the good of humanity.

He was only partially paying attention when a soft voice came in over his shoulder, “Admiral.”

He turned to look, finding a smartly dressed young lieutenant waiting at his side.

“The UN President is almost done with her address, and you’re up next.”

He nodded and took to his feet quietly excusing himself from the table as he followed her down the hallway. The automated catwalk whirred to life, and the two of them stood next to each other as they were carried off down the long hallway. On either side of them rain slashed against the windows in great sheets. The sky overhead was dark and overcast,and the green of the lawn was soaked in great frothing puddles.

He reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out his note cars glancing them over once more before putting them back in his pocket.

At the end of the catwalk two marines were waiting for him.

Ramirez grinned at him and Maverick raised an eyebrow as he stepped off the catwalk, “That’s a lovely expression.:” Maverick commented, “Are the Admirals not playing nice.”

He snorted slightly, “Most of them, but there are a few who just don’t seem to understand how space works, but I guess thant can be expected when you spend your entire career behind a desk.”

The two Marines nodded and fell into step beside him as he made his way towards the outer lawn where the press conferences were being held. A massive black tent had been erected just outside on the lawn, and the sky overhead was soon to grow dark. In the distance he could see the glowing neon of advertising signs hovering over the highway. Those same bright neon lights lit up the tent itself, and projected inflated pictures of the UN President onto the walls as she spoke.

Secret Service agents milled about on the lawn in the rain their jackets soaked and spitting water in a glistening halo of white. Even from here he could see the little strips of clear white tubing that marked their earpieces.

“A shit day to give an address.” He muttered as he was led towards the back entrance, taking a seat by the door as they waited for the president to finish. Rain continued to drum loudly on the tent and the windows at his side. The door was slightly cracked open, so he could just hear the sound of her voice over the pouring rain.

Off on the other side of the room Maverick was watching the address on her implant through her eyes were glazed with boredom.

Ramirez didn’t even pretend to pay attention and was, instead playing holographic paddle ball on his device.

Admiral Vir smiled a little and shook his head at the antics of some of his favorite marines before pulling out his notecards again and giving them a once over. This was becoming more common as his position became more and more political. When he was younger he would have balked at the idea of getting involved in politics, but somehow he had found himself to be the lynchpin holding intergalactic relations together, which turned out to be a very political position to have.

As it seemed his enthusiasm for joining the GA was not shared by everyone, and if if wasn’t for his popularity, and ability to hold their enemies at bay, talks and interaction with the GA might not have gone nearly as far as they had. The thought that he might be the only thing holding intergalactic relations together was nauseating. He was sure that wasn’t entirely the case, by now people understood that in order to have colonies, they had to have cooperation, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t an important part of all this.

It was his fault after all, and he would probably be blamed if things went south.

Outside cheering rose up, and he lifted his head and stood as the UN president was ushered back inside on a wave of applause.

Most of the secret service agents went with her, but security still stayed behind as he stepped past her and up to the lectern. WHen he had said tent earlier, he had not fully grasped the size of the place. It might as well have been an indoor auditorium with places to sit at the back and large projection screens.

A dim blue light fell over him from the side, and he tried not to look at how own awkward figure as he appeared on screen. Cameras flashed below him as reporters vied for the front seat. He set his notecards on the lectern and began to speak.

His heart hammered and his leg wobbled nervously, but that was common for him these days.

He was a decent public speaker, or was becoming proficient, but that still didn’t stop his nerves.

“The GA has asked me to take the time and announce that they have begun peace talks with the Lumin and the alien species known as the Mikes, who contacted us through long distance laser transmission just last week. The conferences will be held on the GA hub, and life updates will be broadcast to the GA website for the duration of those talks. As someone who has been active on the intergalactic stage since the beginning, I urge you all to-” His eyes drifted over the crowd as he continued with his speech, discussing the importance of voting for their representatives as a new election period was coming up. He stressed also the importance of a couple of economic bills which might strengthen their political report with the Tesraki. He had practiced this speech hundreds of times, and so the words flowed from his mouth with no real issue as he stared down into the crowd. He scanned his eyes over their faces, some of them smiling, some of them concentrated, and others downright annoyed with the words coming from his mouth.

He would have estimated that the ratio of pleased to displeased was three to one, though that percentage was still pretty high 33.3% wasn’t nothing.

He continued to scan the crowd eyes trailing up and towards the center of the crowd where a strange sort of commotion had started. The people parted, and as they did it was like watching a dog run through a field of grass where the stocks began to bend sideways under their weight.

His eyes tracked down to the source of the disruption even as he was speaking.

And found a figure dressed in a heavy black raincoat, face covered.

His voice was just beginning to trail off as the man or woman lifted their head and raised their arm.

Water dripped from the ceramic barrel, and the screaming began just as a loud CRACK erupted in the room.

And then he was plowed into the ground by what felt to be a speeding freight train. THe wind was knocked out of him as he landed on his back. His ears erupted into squealing static which drowned out the sound of secret service men running into the crowd and people screaming. The muzzle flash had left spots in his vision.

Was he hit?

He gasped for air unable to breath for two horrible seconds as the breath came flooding back to him. When his hearing came back the chaos was almost deafening enough to leave his ears ringing again.

A figure knelt in front of him.

Someone else Dived to his side as security flooded onto the stage with them.

Maverick grabbed his shoulder, “Are you hit.”

He looked down at himself, and his pristine grey uniform looking for a spot of red.

He ran his hands over his body, “I…. I don’t think so.” But if the bullet hadn’t thrown him to the ground than what….

He looked up to see Ramirez still kneeling in front of him. He must have seen it coming and tackled Adam to the ground before the shot was fired.

But something…. Something was wrong.

Adam crawled into a kneeling position and grabbed Ramirez by the shoulders. The other man hadn’t moved.’

Frantically he began to look Ramirez over, “Ramirez! Are you hit?”

The other man raised his head and his eyes were glassy, “I….I don’t know.”

The crowd had tightened around them, and he waved security off as he looked his friend over. As he scooted forward, grabbing Ramirez by the back of his uniform, he felt something wet and sticky against his hand.

He drew back…. Only to find his hand drenched in blood.

“SHIT! SOMEONE GET A DOCTOR!”

Ramirez swayed, and Adam caught him around the shoulders gently lowering him to the ground, “Woah, just, relax alright, you’re going to be ok. HE’S BEEN SHOT!”

Ramirez grunted still staring glassily into space.

“Help me roll him.: his voice was tight and strangled, as Maverick grabbed Ramirez by the shoulder and rolled him into his side. Adam could see the blood now, a large stain on his lower mid back.

He pulled up the shirt just to see the bullet hole oozing dark red, already smearing over the other man’s tanned skin, “Shit, shit, shit, Ramirez….. ANGEL!”

Angel grunted, “If you wanted my shirt off, you could have just asked nicely.”

“Is he going into shock?”

“I dont know I’m not a fucking doctor. Just keep him awake. Keep him talking!”

Adam ripped off his uniform jacket, wadding it into a tight ball which he pressed against the oozing wound. Maverick had pulled off her jacket and rolled it under Ramirez’s head. He groaned in pain as Adam applied pressure.

“It's alright, buddy, you're going to be alright, just hang in there.”

“That looks like it went through his kidney.” Maverick muttered.

“Shut up and keep him talking!”

Maverick nodded and patted Angel on the cheek, growing annoyed he wasn’t responding and then lightly slapping him. His eyes fluttered open, “Ow.”

“Stay awake damn it.”

“Bossy.” Angel muttered.

Just then a crack medical team burst through the line shooing everyone out of their way as they did. Adam backed up hands out speared with blood and as he let the professionals take over.

He listened to them talk, heard words coming out of their mouths but didn’t understand what they were saying. He was grabbed by the shoulder and urged to go inside where it was safe, but he shook them off vision fixed on his friend lolling helplessly on the ground, covered in blood.

The men and women removed his bloodied uniform jacket and pulled a blue cylinder from somewhere. It was shoved into the wound and a button was depressed. There was a sharp hissing noise and Angel groaned in pain, though when they withdrew the cylinder he was no longer bleeding.

Adam was dragged back as men rushed forward with a stretcher transferring his injured friend onto it and hurriedly dragging him away. Adam was waylaid by the security detail that dragged him into a safe room as everyone tried to figure out what had happened.

Angel’s blood began to dry on his hands.

The shooter hadn’t gotten far, and when detained it had been pretty clear that that bullet wasn’t just meant for the marine.

It had been meant for Adam himself.

Even though he knew that was likely the truth, that revelation still came to him as a shock, and his skin grew clammy and cold with the realization.

Angel had saved his life, and taken the bullet that was meant for him.

***

This realization still haunted him hours later as he sat in the waiting room at Mercy Core Hospital heavily guarded by a crack SWAT team and a small military garrison. He stared down at his hands, at the blood that had turned brown and was now flaking off in his hands and onto the waiting room floor. Blood stained the white shirt he wore underneath, and his tie hung loose and undone around his shoulders.

The commotion of footsteps out the door and he lifted his head towards the voices. He tried to understand what they were saying but, somehow, couldn’t. He chalked it up to his brain just not functioning correctly until the door burst inward and a short dark-haired woman burst into the room followed by a grey haired older woman, and a young girl.

They looked too much like Angel to be anyone but his family, and as they walked in Adam stood sharply nearly knocking his chair over in his haste. He realized now why he couldn't’ understand them before, they were speaking Spanish.

The middling woman’s eyes fell on him instantly and she rushed forward grabbing him by the wrists, “What, what happened, what do you know, is my son ok.”

He hadn’t truly grasped what had happened until just now, and fought hard to bite back the tears as he gave her the details, “He was shot, the doctors had to bring him into surgery about an hour ago…” Her eyes went wide with horror and shock, his throat squeezed tight causing his voice to rise in pitch though he tried to fight it down.

“He...he has the best medical care you could ask for…. Our ship doctor arrived…. Arrived on scene thirty minutes ago…. He… hes the best surgeon in the-galaxy.” He could barely speak now, his throat thick as if it was stuffed with cotton.

She put her hands over her mouth and turned in a distressed circle.

His eyes fell on the older grey haired woman and her eyes pierced into him like she could read his sole like a book.

He had heard enough stories about this woman to know who she was immediately.

Angel’s Abuela, the family matriarch.

Adam shrunk under the intensity of her gaze

Mother and, what must have been Angel’s younger sister were sitting together hugging each other for comfort. Adam stood awkwardly hands at his sides not wanting to intrude on grief that was…. Not his own, grief that was, in fact, caused by him.

It was his fault.

Angel had taken that bullet for him.

He should have been in that operating room. He bit the inside of his cheek took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling, willing the tears to absorb back into his eye.

The older woman was still watching him, and as he watched she walked over, and touched his arm gently, “What happened.” He opened his mouth to say he already told her but the expression she gave him made it pretty clear he had not given enough details, “I was giving an address to the crowd just outside UNSC headquarters. I was about halfway through when there was a disturbance in the crowd. I saw someone pull a gun, and then Angel tackled me to the floor just as it fired. We didn’t know who had been hit at first but, he…. It looked like it got him in the lower mid back….. I I tried to stop the bleeding but I… and then the paramedics came…. And I…. I…. I’m so sorry.” his voice hitched but he bit it back with gargantuan effort, “It should be me in there not him.”

He turned to look down at his feet

But then the hand came and touched his arm again, “It wasn’t your fault, boy. That’s just our Angel.”

And with those words he couldn’t fight it back, and warm hot tears began spilling down his face and onto his shirt. His vision blurred and he could barely see, but he felt arms wrap around him patting him on the back as the old woman’s voice came softly, “There there, he’s going to be alright, our Angel is strong. He’s going to be ok.”

He didn’t try to pull away from the old woman.

Her arms were warm and comforting, and he desperately wanted to believe her.

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jaxsteamblog · 3 years

Text

Druk

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Dragons.

Katara stared, open mouthed, from her spot far below the suspended walkway. Red and blue scales rushed around Thuy and Zuko, bringing tears to her eyes.

Red and blue.

“We felt it was almost prophetic,” One of the Sun Warriors next to her said. “When the Fire Lord married a Waterbender Queen.”

“I can see why.” Katara said hoarsely.

“And with the Avatar being a native water element, it was equally auspicious.” She went on.

“Okay, sorry, I know you’re trying to say something profound,” Katara said, still watching the entwining dragons. “But those are dragons.”

The Sun Warrior chuckled.

“I can see why a Spirit chose you. You have the appropriate amount of reverence for these things.” She said.

Katara did turn then.

“Pardon?” She asked.

“Iroh related to us what kind of person you were, to let us make a better judgement. You are soul bound to the Spirit La, correct?” The Sun Warrior asked.

Katara said nothing. Thuy’s shriek of joy snapped through the air and Katara faced upward again.

“Are those spirits?” She questioned instead of answering.

The dragons rushed back into their respective caves and Katara tried to follow the pair down the long stairs with her eyes.

“Ran and Shaw are ancient beings, but they are not spirits.” The Sun Warrior stated.

“But they don’t live forever.”

“No.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Not quite.” The Sun Warrior said and Katara looked over at her. The woman’s smile was coy, which made Katara frown.

Nothing more was said about it until dinner. Thuy and Zuko had talked nearly non-stop since they were within earshot on the stairs. Zuko was near tears for parts of it, as he spoke about feeling his inner fire connect with the dragons when they passed by. Thuy, who was part way through her training with Zuko, had worked through her mental block around the element.

“Fire is life, Auntie.” Thuy enthused repeatedly. “The sun feeds the grass, fire bakes our bread, it’s all connected.”

“You sound like those musicians Suki likes.” Katara said gently and Zuko laughed at that.

As the revered sun set, the equally sacred torches were lit to illuminate the dining area. Fire dancers appeared in the square of beaten earth, and they only vaguely resembled the ones Katara had seen at other festivals in Caldera. The face paint made her think of home and the drums became hammers to drive the feeling to heart.

The men and women who danced told a story in a language Katara didn’t understand, but she knew what it was meant to evoke. It was a shared fear of the dark, of the dangers that lurked in the unseen spaces around the safety of their hearth. It was a call for the sun to return.

As both Zuko and Katara were caught up in the emotion, a train of dancers covered by a dragon stamped into view. The drum beat changed and the dancers became more grounded, and the Sun Warrior from earlier approached their table.

“Avatar Thuy, I humbly ask for your wisdom.” She said, bowing low.

Thuy looked over at Katara, who nodded, and cleared her throat.

“Of course.” She replied.

The Sun Warrior stood and gestured. Two men came over, carrying a chest on a small palanquin between them.

“A prophecy stated that the blood of an Avatar would be required to bring back the dragons. But as their return is to bring balance, balance would be needed as well. We have looked for a man and woman, light and dark, yin and yang, and we believe you will lead us to the prophecy.” The Sun Warrior said. The two men lowered the palanquin in front of her and she opened the chest. From her seat, Katara could see a glittering gold egg.

Thuy shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m…” She started. Zuko stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Her spirit and her body is that of a woman. Nothing else.” He said, his voice firm.

“My most sincerest apologies, Avatar Thuy, I did not mean that.” The Sun Warrior said, bowing lower.

“Maybe you could skip the formalities and just speak plainly?” Katara offered.

The woman smiled.

“That would be wise, yes.” She said. “Thuy, I have recognized your transition and I believe you are able to find the ones who make a balance, not that you are that person. I don’t think the prophecy speaks of one person, but of two.”

“We did try Hikaru and they couldn’t do anything.” One of the palanquin bearers said, mostly to his companion. Thuy heard him and snorted.

“I appreciate that, really. And, I know it might seem obvious but…” Thuy looked down the table at Zuko and Katara.

“What?” Zuko asked.

“Us?” Katara added incredulously.

“We had the same thought.” The Sun Warrior agreed.

“What?” Zuko repeated.

In bed that night, Zuko and Katara sat up with the egg between them. It was warm to the touch and Katara could feel something hum inside of the shell.

“Do you think this is an actual, for real dragon egg?” Zuko asked.

“They say it is.” Katara said, looking at the egg.

“And we have to hatch it?”

“I guess?”

“How?”

“Does it look like I know how to hatch a dragon egg?” Katara shot back, bewildered.

Zuko frowned, also staring at the egg.

“Why wouldn’t Ran and Shaw hatch it?” He whispered.

“Is it their egg?” Katara asked.

Zuko looked up at her.

“I don’t even know what gender they are.” He said in naked confusion.

“But why would they need a Waterbender to hatch a dragon egg? Dragons were the first Firebenders!” Katara continued in exasperation.

“I think.” Zuko started, but stopped short, staring hard at the egg again. “I think it’s a spirit thing?”

“But that’s not a spirit egg.” Katara said, but sat back. “Do spirits lay eggs?”

“Augh!” Zuko fell back on the bed, his hands in his hair. “This is so frustrating!”

“You know, I really wasn’t expecting our marriage to become some sort of fated, prophecy fulfilling sort of thing.” Katara said.

“Dealing with the political nightmare is enough for me really. I don’t need prophecies added to it.” Zuko muttered.

Katara crawled up toward him, laying down next to him with the egg nestled between them. It certainly felt alive to her.

“It’s still nice, being here with you.” She said softly.

Zuko rolled onto his side and started to brush her hair back from her face with his hand. He was searching her face, looking for something or simply trying to memorize it. This was becoming a habit, now that they were fully entrenched in their schedules.

“Three months is such a long time.” He said, just as quietly.

“How did we handle the separation before?” Katara asked.

“I feel like being married should’ve made me more comfortable with it.” Zuko said.

Katara leaned in and kissed him lightly. He held her face and she relaxed under the warmth of his touch.

“I am glad we got married though.” She said.

“Oh me too, absolutely.” Zuko said and she huffed out a breathy laugh.

“Even if it’s not fate, I’m glad you are who you are. Loving you, being able to love you, kinda helped a lot of other things in my life.” She said.

“Because I’m the son of the man who murdered your mother?” Zuko asked wryly.

“I mean, sorta, yeah.” Katara quipped and made him laugh.

“Maybe that’s the point of this.” Zuko said, lightly tapping the egg with his knee. “Healing after violence.”

“You have to cultivate life in order to heal.” Katara said, quoting one of Iroh’s many wisdoms. Zuko smiled, gazed into her eyes again, and then kissed her.

“I love you Katara, much more than I thought I could ever bear.” He said.

“I love you more than I ever wanted to again. It scares me.”

“Why?”

“What if I lose you? I would die.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You would go on.”

“How do you figure?”

“The love doesn’t go anywhere, Katara. As long as you’re alive, my love for you will exist. Just like how your mother’s love still exists.” Zuko explained.

Katara touched her fingers to her necklace and Zuko brushed his thumb over her cheek. It was only after she felt the cool dampness left behind his movement that she realized she was crying.

“I don’t think we’re hatching this egg.” She sighed.

Zuko looked down and shrugged.

“It’s pretty though. We can keep it in the palace.” He said.

Reaching down, Katara pulled the egg up to their chests. It was almost like a swaddled fat baby, if she squinted.

“Let’s just keep it warm and in the morning, we can tell them we tried.” She said.

“That’s fair. Well, goodnight baby dragon.” Zuko patted the egg and Katara rolled her eyes.

“What would you name a dragon? Fang Jr.?” She asked.

Zuko snorted. “That’s as bad as Mister Whiskers.”

“Oh hush.”

“Maybe Druk.”

“Druk?”

“It means thunder dragon. And, I mean, when I think about our elements together, a storm isn’t out of the range of possibilities.”

“I like it. Druk.” Katara repeated the name. Then, wrapping her arms around the egg, she pressed her cheek against the gold shell. “Goodnight Druk.”

It took them a while to fall asleep. The bed wasn’t very large to begin with, and the egg took up a lot of space. But it wasn’t too foreign; the living aura it gave off made Katara feel like there was just a third person in the bed with them. When she did fall asleep, the sounds of drums and heartbeats tattooed rings of color in her head.

“Katara.” Zuko whispered sharply, sounding terrified. “I broke the egg.”

Adrenaline shot through Katara’s muscles and she was upright before she was even awake.

“What?” She slurred, looking around.

Zuko shushed her, putting his hands on her shoulders and yanking her down.

“I think I rolled over it in my sleep. It’s broken.” He said.

Looking down, Katara saw the silvery, mother-of-pearl sheen of the inner shell. Large, rounded pieces were still between them, with flecks of gold scattered around the bed.

“Oh we are in so much trouble.” She whispered.

“But now we know it was empty.” Zuko said weakly, picking up two of the largest pieces. He looked up and met Katara’s eye, his face pale and sick.

“I don- OW!” Katara’s shoulders seized as something sharp dug into her back. As she went to slap whatever freakish Fire Nation bug had bitten her, the sharp bites moved upward.

Her hand was lightly nipped and her eyes widened. Staring forward, Katara watched Zuko blink.

“What. Is on. My shoulder.” Katara said slowly.

“Druk.” Zuko said.

The thing perched on her shoulder gave a small trill. Something leathery and warm wrapped around the back of her neck and Katara felt her throat dry. A thin red whisker floated up into the corner of her vision.

“Oh. Cool.” Katara said and her breath quickened.

“So, uh…” Zuko leaned forward, holding out his hands. Druk, still unseen, trilled again and beat small wings against Katara’s face.

Moving her hands slowly, Katara pushed the back of the dragon’s small body.

“It’s okay.” She said and Druk protested, but hopped forward.

Zuko’s hands dipped under the unexpected weight, but Katara was focused on the dragon.

Druk was the size of a cat owl kitten; much smaller than what she expected to be in an egg of that size. His scales were a deep crimson color, seemingly purple in the low light. He had a crest of pale yellow fur on his head and his whiskers seemed to have a mind of their own.

Wrapping his tail around Zuko’s hands, Druk postured nobly and shot out a burst of fire.

“I’ve heard most couples get a pet before they have kids.” Zuko said, looking up at Katara.

She moved her hand slowly to the dragon, lightly petting the fur on his head. Druk chirped, flapping his wings, and Katara yanked her hand back quickly.

“How long until he’s as big as them?” Katara asked, holding the hand she had pet Druk with tightly in her other. She looked up and Zuko looked pleased, which annoyed her.

“I don’t know. I don’t know much about dragons at all.” Zuko said, smiling.

Druk flapped more, lifting himself out of Zuko’s hands. He hovered for a second, but then darted right to Katara. She caught him, anxious, and held him to her chest. His front claws came up toward her collarbone and she held him there.

“We brought dragons back.” Zuko said in awe.

“How?” Katara asked, confused.

Zuko finally looked at her, putting both hands to her cheeks and kissing her deeply.

Katara understood then. The Fire Nation had not just hunted dragons after all.

Druk chirped indignantly, shoving his head in between their faces. Zuko leaned back but gently stroked Druk’s fur.

“I guess he has a favorite.” He said.

“Mom is everyone’s favorite, at first.” Katara said, tilting her head to look down at Druk.

“Good morning, Druk.” She added.

Druk stretched upward and nipped the bottom of her chin.

Of course he was a brat.

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #zutara month #modern au #the fic that prompts built

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Toddler Mutant Ninja Turtles, chapter 1; Hall of Science! @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @scentedcandlecryptid

They were running. Silent feet pounding on stone and impressive forms guiding them over the gaps between rooftops fast enough to disappear between blinks. Like shadows, completely unseen, the brothers raced to the location of their next mission.

“Can I get another runthrough, Don?” Raphael called to his brother as they glided side by side, looking to each other mid-jump.

Donatello didn't need to pay attention to where he was going; his body was so used to the nightly activity that his feet guided him even as his mind was focused on other subjects. He tapped the band on his wrist to bring up a map of New York that immediately settled on his location and the path they would have to take to arrive at their destination; naturally, being the only one with such tech, and as second oldest, he took point with Raphael.

“There’s been a recent string of robberies in every major museum and science building in a hundred block radius. Just the normal stuff: jewels, gems, priceless artifacts, experimental technology—anything worth a pretty penny really.”

“And we’re sure this is our kinda thing?” Leonardo asked; for stamina, the turtle was not built, so already he was panting and coated in a heavy layer of sweat. Still, he was able to keep up quite easily with his brothers. “We do mutants and we do Foot Clan, we don’t do petty robbers.”

“With their MO, I am 99.8 percent certain this is a new mutant.” Donatello reported.

“And what MO would that be?” Raphael questioned.

Donatello cleared his throat and closed his eyes, sticking a finger in the air to annunciate himself as he spoke. “They break in without any clear entry or exit points, door and windows locked and intact, and no security cams or security sensors can seem to pick up on when the attacks occurred. And, most incriminating, they leave behind nothing but a water trail.”

Michelangelo whistled. “Did Piebald go all dark side? Can’t she do all that?”

“I don’t know Michael.” Donatello admitted, “But we’re about to find out. I’ve figured out a pattern in the places they’re targeting and I have a pretty good idea of where we can catch them in the act.”

Raphael nodded and gave an approving grunt. “Then let’s put a hustle on it!”

The journey was an easy and short one. They came onto the roof of the museum and, while they split up at Raphael’s order to find a way into the building, Leonardo took the chance to read the sign.

“New York Hall of Science?” Leonardo scrunched up his beak.

Michelangelo hummed and put his hand on his hip; he had just found a way in through the vent shaft. “Are you sure this is a mission and not just a Donnie field trip?”

Donatello’s lips curled down and he put a hand to his chest. “I reel at the actuation! Gasp! I, the respectable and beloved green mutant lad I am, would never ever do anything like that, never in a million years!” Wild hand gestures enunciated his dramatics. “This is purely professional!”

Michelangelo rolled his eyes. “I found a way in!” He pointed to the vent shaft and was easily able to pry the cover, tossing it aside and going to climb in.

Raphael was there before Michelangelo could do much more than put a foot in, grabbing his baby brother by the shell to pull him out and plop him back down on the safety of the roof.

“Leader goes first!” Raphael declared proudly. Then he immediately melted into soft coos and kneeled beside Michelangelo, pinching the box turtle's cheeks and rubbing his head, “I can’t have my baby brother getting hurt can I?”

He stood up again and gave the seething Michelangelo a final pat on the shoulder before jumping into the vents without a care as to where they led. Michelangelo tried to follow after, but he was forced back by sharp nudges from Leonardo and Donatello as they side-checked him before ducking inside. Michelangelo was the last one in the vents and the last one out.

The brothers fell one by one from the vent shaft, landing with solid, yet muffled thumps as the stealth mode drilled into them took over. The building was completely dark, but that was expected given the fact it was long after hours and the security guards and workers had all gone home for the night.

“Nice.” Leonardo whistled, eyes going white as they scanned across the dark room. “Now this is more my style!”

The museum, despite its namesake, didn't much resemble a museum as it did an indoor playground. There were several exhibits quartered off with rope and chains; a rocket ride that resembled a better, cooler version of a coin-operated horse, a trampoline with a harness attached to a bungee cord, several displays showing off depictions of the solar system or sand dollars you could dig for in a sand pit or a small chemical set for little experiments. It was like something straight out of a child's imagination! Michelangelo had to rub his eyes several times just to be sure he was actually seeing it.

Donatello stepped in front of the awed group and gave a bow before motioning widely to the room. “Welcome, dear brothers, to the greatest place on earth if you happen to be a science child! Ohhh I’ve always wanted to come here!” Donatello practically melted, his eyes shimmering with the child-like wonder as he leaned his full weight on his bo staff. He sucked in a shaky gasp and one of his spider arms deployed to offer him a tissue. “It’s so beautiful.”

“I guess.” Raphael laughed, smiling at the sight of his brother happy as could be. “But I don’t really see how this fits our thief's MO…”

“Allow me to elaborate!” Donatello declared, spinning on his heels to face his brothers again as he threw purple sparkles into the air, “This museum of wonder and extravagance will be displaying the illusive and highly controversial trillion-sided die in their Math-mania exhibit this Saturday eve! School children from all over with come to marvel as this beautiful piece of scientific—“

“Woah woah woah, trillion-sided die?” Leonardo interrupted, fixing Donatello with his ‘I don’t believe you’ eyes, “That sounds totally made up!”

Donatello gasped as if Leonardo’s words were a personal affront. “I assure you the trillion-sided die is a hundred percent, genuine marvel of the world—“

“How could there be a trillion sides?” Leonardo asked, “Who counted all them sides!”

“T...they clearly had a highly advanced expert to prove—“

“Another question,” Leonardo raised his hand, “How big is the die? It’s gotta be pretty big to have a trillion sides.”

“I… It’s a… it’s just a regular sized die!”

“Then are the sides all like… really small or… or how did they do that?” Leonardo leaned against a wall and smirked.

Michelangelo was quickly growling bored with the argument and his eyes began to wander, searching for some movement or stimulation to keep his mind happy. What he found instead was a wet spot on the floor, and once he saw it, it was impossible to unsee it. It was like someone had been carrying a bucket full of water with the bottom full of holes, dripping it all the way through the walkway and then around a bend and out of sight.

“Guys—!” Michelangelo tried to get their attention. He was met with a finger pressed to his lips to silence him.

“Shush, Angelo. Big boys are talking!”

Michelangelo’s hands became fists and he growled. If he had been in a cartoon, steam would have poured out of his ears! But before he could try again to call their attention, Leonardo had jumped forward, leaning his entire weight on Michelangelo’s head to point.

“Hey look! A water trail!”

Raphael came over grinning. “Good job Leo! Great find!”

“Oh come on!” Michelangelo groaned loudly.

#toddler mutant ninja turtles!#little brother struggles #disaster twins

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