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#and attempted murder is just how you tell someone in your family that you love them
spacedace · 4 months
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Fuck whatever DC is doing with the al Ghul's characterizations and story lines, I've decided that from now on the al Ghul's are gonna be DC's version of the Addams Family instead.
Now I don't mean just give the various al Ghul's the exact personalities of the various Addams and call it a day. That's boring, that erases all the interesting parts of the al Ghuls, that's just using "find & replace" and not actually adding anything. I mean give them the vibes of the Addams Family.
Keep the al Ghul's as the al Ghul's with all their scheming and machinations and world domination attempts but give them all the unhinged energy, the casually insane view of the world, the deranged levels of love and devotion for family. Make them that group where objectively they are batshit insane but also you cannot argue with the fact that they are indisputably the most stable and functional family in the entire universe.
They're creepy, they're kooky, they're mysterious and spooky. Ra's many opulent homes and impenetrable fortresses are a museum and the al Ghul's really are a screa-um whenever people come to see-um (or when they lay waste upon their enemies in a surprise attack that has been planned for months and is just the first domino in a series that will ultimately lead to achieving a far greater goal).
They all love each other and want each other to be happy, they express this primarily with stabbing and murder attempts (its fine, death is a thing that happens to other people).
And forget the League of Assassins being a cult. Just make the whole vast globe spanning organization a collection of cousins/aunts/uncles/dear old friends ect. No one (not even the al Ghuls, if they cared to keep track of such things) is sure who is actually related to them and who just got absorbed into the ever expanding family tree based on their vibes being right.
(Is Sensei Ra's father you ask? Well he's certainly someone's father - probably.
Anyway have you heard about Cousin Cheshire? Despicable poisoner of a young woman, capable of the most horrific things imaginable - yes she is the sweetest dear. Like I was saying though, she just had a baby!
Everyone in the family is just so excited to throw a baby shower to celebrate! Ubu has really gone all out with the spike traps, he does so love getting to welcome a new addition to the family.
Talia of course has cultivated a brand new strain of the most toxic plants imaginable to make a brand new kind of necrotizing poison. You know, as a nice little romantic gift for Cousin Cheshire and that young man of hers. It really is so important to make sure you take time for you and your partner to go on dates and have a few pitched battles to the death on dark rooftops in the pounding rain when you have children.
Now there is some to-do about it all of course, you know how family get together can be. Everyone is arguing over who should get to give little Lian her first weapon and what it should be. Nyssa is pushing for grenades but Ra's is insisting on a sword - he's traditional like that you know - but Dusan has the vote so far on throwing knives. You know the kind that have the little divots along the edges of the blades them to make it easier to get the poison you dip them in to stick.)
I'm just saying that the al Ghuls should be a delightful cross between the Bond Villains they were originally conceived as and the lovingly unhinged Addams Family. It just feels correct in my heart.
(Again keep the interesting aspects of the characters and the nuances of who each of them are like their drive to save the world through destroying humanity and their strong environmentalist leanings and their constantly playing 5D chess and everything, but like, take away the racism and the cartoonishly evil for no reason bullshit and give them some fun feral energy to go along with it).
#batman#ra's al ghul#al ghul family#talia al ghul#nyssa raatko#cheshire dc#sensei dc#no more racism and fucked up dark family dynamics#the al ghuls aggressively adore each other#violence and schemes is their love language#in the full au version of all of this i'd like to imagine how canon plot points change with the al ghuls having these vibes#Just imagine Damian still trying to kill Tim when he first ends up in Bruce's care#but instead of it being a ploy to get rid of a threat its because he's just so excited to meet one of his big brothers#and attempted murder is just how you tell someone in your family that you love them#Tim just SO CONFUSED because Damian is talking so animatedly about how happy he is to get to have some brotherly bonding with Tim#while ACTIVELY trying to run him through with a sword#idk how things change with Cass exactly but i feel like they would in this#like either David Cain isn't an absolute monster or the al ghuls catch wind of what he's doing & are like#This is NOT how al ghuls treat family! what is this shameful behavior! She can't even insult you while you fight!#fighting and violence is a perfectly healthy way to express your love but only if there's actually LOVE involved!#The Heretic & other Damian clones still get made but only because Talia just misses her son so much that she makes more of him#Nyssa has just been bopping around the world for a few centuries & pops up every now and then to have a death match with her baby sister#i just have a lot of strong feelings about the al ghuls deserving better and combined that with the vibes of my favorite unhinged family#Dick still hates Talia but Talia takes all his insults as her darling step son telling her how much he loves her#which only drives Dick even crazier#Tim rocks up to the League of Assassins during his whole trying to prove Bruce is alive thing already seen as an al ghul#Oh yeah that's Cousin Timothy he's one of Talia's kids - never met a truer al ghul in your life#You see how he blew up all those bases? Ra's cried he was so proud#Ra's spoils his grandkids absolutely rotten which is giving Bruce SO MANY gray hairs
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star-girl69 · 3 months
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I Did Something Bad
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader
—-
synopsis: you somehow become the target of a deadly vendetta, and it ends in an overnight stay in the infirmary, a lot of blood, and a lot of your scary girlfriend being her scary self.
a/n: save me clarisse “touch her and die” la rue save me save me save me save me save me save me… this is a completely self indulgent fic and no i will not apologize. love y’all!!!!!
inspired by an ask @nvirskies sent me
I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift
warnings: not proofread, VERY VIOLENT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF Y/N GETTING INJURED!!!!! BLOOD!!!!! WOUNDS!!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, anyways…. DANNNNNYYYYYY MY BABY!!!!! HES BACK!!!!!, ares cabin bonding time <3, FOUND FAMILY, y/n is crazy too, insane power couple who are insane together!!, y’all know what’s going on…… protective clarisse, possessive clarisse, insane clarisse, murderous clarisse, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, swearing, attempted murder!, LOTS of violence, kissing, clarisse hates talking about her feelings but she will do it for y/n, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Clarisse loves capture the flag.
It’s the one place where she really gets to be in her element. That’s where she prefers to be- in the moment, hard and fast, a flurry of swords and adrenaline and the feeling of someone surrendering.
Of course, Clarisse is never the one surrendering. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone surrender to her.
Clarisse loves capture the flag.
And that love is also shared by her equally violently-minded siblings, which is why you’re sitting on her lap in the middle of the Ares cabin, listening to everyone scream and shout about tactics and plans and things that are just general boring.
Clarisse, of course, listens to everything. Silently humming to herself, drumming her fingers against your stomach, rolling her eyes and scoffing silently at some of her siblings ideas.
They all shout out ideas, but everyone knows that Clarisse has the final say.
You should probably be preparing with your own cabin- but this is just so much fun.
The tension in the room rises significantly after Nelson shuts down another one of Carrie’s ideas. Carrie has a mind made for the strategy of battle, where Nelson is all tough war and pain.
Clarisse likes to brag that she’s the perfect mix of both.
“I’m bored,” you huff, leaning back into your girlfriend. “Can they start punching each other again? Or something entertaining?”
She laughs and wraps her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. “You’re so violent,” she mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the violent one.”
“I jus’ think it’s really funny,” you shrug. “Like, can you blame me? It’s objectively funny.”
Danny, your favorite of Clarisse’s siblings, skitters through his older siblings and throws himself onto the couch next to you.
“Did they start fighting yet?” he asks, practically bouncing in his seat.
“No,” you sigh, dramatically.
Clarisse puts her arm around his shoulder, and you know she feels ridiculously proud over the fact that she’s the favorite of the most lovable member of the Ares cabin, and the fact you’re literally draped over her.
Not your fault she’s so comfy.
“Hey, how you feelin’ about tomorrow?” you ask Danny.
His face hardens. “I’m gonna fuck a bitch up.”
“Oh, my Gods,” you mutter, listening to Clarisse chuckle and pat his back.
“Hell yeah,” she smiles.
“Good!” you say after a second, feeling slightly disturbed over the 11 year-old’s colorful language. But, who are you to stop him?
Clarisse sighs after a moment, and you look up to see Carrie and Nelson finally at each other’s throats. Besides for the fact it’s just so funny when the siblings fight, they should get all of the anger out now so they can work as a team tomorrow.
“Well, no, Nelson, we aren’t gonna fucking ‘kill them with kindness,’ because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Hey, fuckers,” Clarisse says, but they’re too absorbed in the fight to hear her.
You scramble off of her, climbing over Danny, watching in amazement as he opens the bag of pretzels he did not have in his hand a second ago- stuffing one in his mouth and holding it out to you.
These pretzels might have been buried in between the couch cushions. But they’re sealed, so who cares.
“You know what, fuck you, Carrie!” Nelson shouts, pushing her back.
“Askin’ for it,” she laughs, winding up and punching him straight in the face.
You can’t feel bad for the crunch, because Nelson should have know Carrie was gonna punch him- he could have at least put in an effort to stop her. Instead, he just stood there and took it.
“Oh,” Matty winces, sliding next to you. Why the hell are random things just appearing? Did he come out of the cushions too? Probably, seeing as he’s always falling asleep. “Askin’ for it,” he mumbles, shaking his head.
Nelson recovers from the hit and jabs at Carrie- but she stands there, hand on her hip, completely still.
Clarisse catches his arm.
He’s breathing out heavily, and the room goes pretty much silent- except for you, Danny and Matty chomping on pretzels in the corner of the couch.
“You’re fuckin’ embarrassing, Nelson.”
He pulls himself away from her and huffs, heading to the bathroom to deal with his bright red cheek.
Clarisse sighs heavily.
“Gods, can’t have one night without someone punching someone.”
Carrie looks around the room with a smug smile, scoffing when Clarisse shoulders her as she walks past. She lays down in your waiting arms, kissing your hand as you wrap them around her.
“Gettin’ on my nerves,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning into you.
“I know,” you soothe, turning around and making a silly face to Danny at her dramatics.
—-
Nelson is obviously still angry the next day. His helmet doesn’t cover all of the nasty bruise on his cheek, a sickening purple against his tan skin.
Him and Carrie swap glares across the the throngs of red helmets.
“Okay, Carrie, stop,” you huff. “He might actually kill you. You’re the one who got a punch in- let it go.”
She turns to glare at you, now.
“Tell him to stop staring at me.”
“Well, you can help by looking away first.”
“Fine,” she mumbles, putting her helmet on and tightening her grip on her sword. Chiron made his usual speech around 10 minutes ago, and Clarisse has finally finished updating everyone- more like yelling incoherently at everyone- about their positions.
But you have a similar strategy.
The blue team has the brains of the Athena Cabin, but the red team has all the brute strength.
Clarisse huffs, walking over to you and Carrie.
“Okay, ready?” she asks, reaching over to tighten the straps of your armor- even through they’re perfectly fine- by habit.
Carrie let’s out a deep breath. “Yes. Very ready to fuckin’ pummel those blue shits and pretend they’re Nelson.”
“That’s the spirit!” you smile, slapping her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and steps away from you, smiling slightly.
Danny and Matty walk over, and your little band is complete. You hunt in the woods just south of the flag, deterring a lot of hopefuls. The older campers know to come up with sneakier ways to get by, but Clarisse is otherwise confident in those she placed by the flag to really protect it.
You strike out into an offensive stance, pointing the end of your blade straight at Danny- and he quickly counters with his own impeccable stance.
“Oh, yeah, they don’t stand a chance,” you smile, and he returns it.
—-
You take your normal routes through the woods.
With the added weight of you and Danny, the group is not as stealthy as they could be- but Clarisse is a secret teddy bear who doesn’t like to be away from you for long, and Danny is too young to be set loose, left to watch the big kids work, occasionally jumping in for a few swings.
Leaves crunch under your feet in the otherwise silent forest. You’ve already come across a few stragglers, and before you could even raise your sword the Ares siblings had disarmed them. Your heart squeezed seeing the absolutely heartbroken look on Danny’s face- he was promised that this time he could really fight.
And after you pulled Clarisse off to the side and reminded her of her deal- Danny was leading the group, with you and Clarisse behind him.
He marches tall and proud, sword pointed out, even though Clarisse scolds him and says his arm will get tired- he’s young and doesn’t listen to his half-sibling.
You smile, watching him, admiring how carefree he is. The walk continues mostly in a stealthy silence- Clarisse, Carrie and Matty has mastered the art of walking silently- so your cover is lost by you and Danny.
Of course, whenever you try to convince Clarisse that maybe you should go somewhere else- she looks at you like you’ve suddenly turned into a female Minotaur.
Clarisse, her hand in yours right now, has a hard time understanding the concept that she can’t be with you all the time. That you might get hurt, that she can’t always stop it.
It’s sweet how constantly concerned she is over you, it makes your stomach twist so good.
She squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your reverie. Voices.
“Danny,” you whisper, almost silently, kicking the back of his leg. When he turns around, frown on his face, you point towards the direction of the voices- and now footsteps.
You all stop in your tracks.
Danny practically jumps up in down, you smile wide, and Clarisse signals to Carrie and Matty, urging you and Danny closer to the action.
When they come into the clearing, a few Hermes kids dressed in blue bandanas, swords in their hands. They’re all strong, you’ve seen them around- recognize them vaguely as potentials that lost to Clarisse in ugly sparring matches.
The siblings have disappeared into the trees.
So it’s just you, unsuspecting, and Danny.
You can see the triumphant looks on their faces.
Except for one of them.
Nicky, maybe? You don’t care enough about him to know his name. But there’s something more in his eyes that you notice immediately, something similar to the passion Clarisse gets in her eyes at the mention of this game.
Danny jumps forward, sword swinging just the way his blood knows, the way his siblings have taught him meticulously.
They seem momentarily surprised at the force his small body can produce, quickly countering with their own jabs, swords clashing together. The other focuses on you.
You’re not worried, you know the siblings are just letting the two of you have your moments before they really come in and you can sit back and watch Clarisse fight. Muscles rippling, sick smile on her face, spear glowing with electricity.
He comes at you and your swords clash together, the force of it making your teeth ring- Gods, he’s strong. He pulls back and you do the same thing a few more times, neither of you able to get the upper hand- until he finally seems to realize his height advantage.
He swings his sword down on you, pressing down hard- and with gravity on his side you have to put all of your focus into stopping that downward sword.
You don’t see his foot coming out to kick you back.
You only feel it, boot in your chest, wind knocked out of you, groaning as you slam into the ground.
“Fuck,” you breathe, tasting blood in your mouth.
“Y/N!” Danny shouts, and that’s when you see his sword coming down on you again. He does it on purpose, that much is sword, the strategic placing of his sword slicing through the top of your arm.
He doesn’t mean to kill you. He means to hurt you.
His purpose isn’t winning the game, you realize as the blade tears through skin, his purpose is to hurt you. That’s what you saw in his eyes.
Delight that his prey was right in front of him.
The realization washes over you like a wave- but like the real ocean, another one comes- an overwhelming feeling of pain, blooming outward like a flower.
He bites his lip in concentration, standing over you as his blade sinks into the dirt. He smiles wide, hitting his target.
You scream.
It’s a quick stop. The clearing is filled with the sound of your screams, swords stopping in midair- everyone realizing simultaneously that you’re really hurt. That this boy hurt you on purpose.
Something cuts through the air, wind in your ears, swiftly burying itself through Nicky’s armor and into his side.
You’ve realized in the last day that men are stupid. First, it was Nelson not expecting to get punched, and now it was Nicky not prepared for a retaliation after hurting you.
The thick armor slowed down the spear, so it unfortunately stabs his side and falls right out.
He yells in pain, ripping off his armor, revealing a small cut. Nothing compared to yours, but you can faintly recognize the fire in his eyes before Matty is leaning over you and Carrie is wrapping a bandana above the pain in your arm.
You hear the sounds of something happening, someone fighting, skin on skin.
You hear all of this, you see all of it, but all you can feel is the burning, burning cut in your arm. It feels like he cut it off. Your mind is hazy, you know blood is gushing, you never knew something could hurt this bad.
You faintly realize you bit your tongue when you went down. Blood spurts from your mouth when you cough, when you groan in pain, when you say her name like a prayer over and over again.
“Clarisse,” you moan, legs twisting around, trying to get away from the pain that you can’t escape from. “Clarisse, Clarisse, please, Clar…”
Matty pulls your head into his lap.
You can tell it’s bad, you can see the queasy look on his face. You clench your fist- the one you can feel, at least- to keep from screaming, heels digging into the dirt. You’re still trying to get away. But you can’t. You can’t get away from this all consuming pain.
“It’s okay,” Danny whispers, suddenly appearing next to you. He voice shakes, he doesn’t know, he can’t tell you anything reassuring.
“Can you go find someone, Danny? One of the Apollo kids, anyone?”
He ignores Carrie, starring at you for a second longer.
“Y/N,” he mumbles, his voice quiet, finally able to act like the young boy he is.
“You can go,” you breathe, somehow finding the strength to make him believe you’re okay. “Go help me, okay?”
His little footsteps disappear into the woods faster than you’ve ever heard him run, even when they have his favorite brownies for dessert.
You let out a sob.
“D-did he cut it off?” you moan. “It feels like he cut it off, please tell me he didn’t… he didn’t cut my arm off…”
“Oh, fuck, no,” Carrie breathes, pressing down agains the wound to try and stop the blood from gushing out- but it doesn’t really help. It’s just too much. “I mean, it’s deep and it’s nasty, but you’ve still got an arm, don’t worry.”
She laughs, awkwardly, nervously. You can feel even more of your arm drifting away, blood pouring out onto the ground.
“Hey, hey, no,” Matty mutters, lightly hitting your face.
“Wha-”
“Can’t fall asleep, Y/N,” Carrie says, nervously. “Sit up against Matty, come on, huh?” you lean against Matty, head clearing now that there’s fresh air in your system.
Your eyes focus on Clarisse.
Except she’s not anywhere near you, she’s 10 feet away, punching Nicky so hard you’re surprised he’s still standing.
Carrie cringes. “Okay, maybe don’t look at that.”
But you’re sort of entranced by her. She’s not outwardly angry, her face reveals nothing- just a mask of hard, unrelenting focus. It should scare you, how much concentration she puts into her deadly punches, blood flying with each hit she lands. Her knuckles are red, his face is a mess, but it’s exhilarating to know she would do this for you.
A sickening crack rents the air. “My fucking nose, fuck, fuck, screw you, you fucking bitch! Fuck-”
The smallest smile creeps it way onto her face. She wipes her mouth, leaving blood on her lips- but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“I can keep going!” she shouts back, grabbing his shirt. “You wanna do that shit? I’m only getting started. I’m gonna throw you around, then I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”
“Wait! Wait, okay, wait, shit,” he breathes, holding his hands up in surrender. Blood pours from his nose, down to her hand bunched in his shirt. He’s taller than her, yet he’s surrendering.
“You’re pathetic,” she hisses, pushing him back. He hits the ground with a groan, trying to grab for a rock, a sword, anything to defend himself against Clarisse and her fury.
Clarisse loves capture the flag.
One of the reasons why she does is because she gets to let out all her anger. She looks at you, but not in your eyes- she looks at the wound on your arm. You can see the red pouring out of the corner of your eye- but you choose to ignore it, instead focusing on the way the fire inside of her gets relit at the sight of your blood. She has plenty reason to be angry now.
She grabs her spear, sauntering over to him, laughing at the way he can’t even try to get up.
“So fuckin’ stupid,” she smiles, tilting her head. Then the tip of her spear is pointing right at his neck, she’s standing over him the way he did to you. “How’s it feel?” she smiles.
He coughs, hissing in pain.
“I’m scared, Clarisse, okay? You got your fucking revenge, but it wasn’t me.”
She laughs, loud and boisterous. “I just saw you cut her, dumbass. I really should kill you, just as a favor to the world.”
“Paid me,” he coughs. “Drachmas, in exchange for hurting your girlfriend-”
She presses the blade against his throat, he yells out.
“Who?”
He stays silent.
“Who?!” she yells, kicking his stomach.
“Nelson!” he screams. “Nelson! Nelson paid me, please, Clarisse-”
She moves the blade away, and he hisses- she probably just barely drew blood.
“I’m not done yet,” she whispers, deadly promise dripping from her words. She turns around, fades out of focus for a second, and then she’s right next to you.
Her hands are cupping your face, she looks sick, seeing you like this up close- but all she does is kiss your forehead. Like you, she doesn’t want to look at your flesh and blood.
“I’m here, I’m here, oh, fuck. Gods, what the fuck,” she mumbles, looking very pointedly away from the wound, finally seeing how bad it is up close.
“Clarisse.”
“I know,” she whispers, smoothing your hair back. “I know, baby, I know, but it’s gonna be okay.”
Danny runs into the clearing, shouting “just over here” while healers follow him, immediately groaning at the smell of blood, the sight of it.
Clarisse switches places with Matty, holding you against her, kissing your head again and again, muttering about how brave you are.
You almost laugh at the odd looks the Apollo kids give her, unused to seeing the big bad Clarisse so soft. But they just don’t know her like you do. She doesn’t love them like she loves you.
One of them starts to clean the blood, and your eyes drift shut as the other starts to mend your skin back together.
—-
You wake up with familiar curly hair in your face.
You spit it out, groaning, mouth feeling fuzzy, everything feelings fuzzy.
“Clarisse?” you mumble, eyes not even open, but you wake up with that hair in your mouth everyday, and you’ve memorized the weight of her arm around your waist.
She sits up immediately, jumping out of bed, standing up and fixing her messy hair like someone’s gonna be there.
“Um, hello? I was speaking, crazy girl.”
“Oh, thank Gods,” she mumbles, blowing hair out of her face and sitting back down. “Thought we got caught.”
You look at her, then your surroundings-
“Oh, holy shit,” she says, staring at you like a deer in headlights. “Wait, you’re awake. You’re awake!”
She throws her arms around you, burying her face into your neck, reverberating with the sound of your laughter.
“You make it sound like I’ve been in a coma for 10 years.” Your heart drops. “Have I… been asleep for a while?”
“Um,” she says, softly, biting her lip as she extricated herself from your neck. “Capture the flag was yesterday, so… no.”
“So you’re just being dramatic?”
“Possibly,” she smiles. “It’s not my fault you’ve taken over my entire brain.” She shows her bruised knuckles, split open, already starting to scab. “I said not to fix ‘em up. They don’t hurt that bad, and they look fucking cool.”
You grab her hands, relieved it’s only been a day, kissing the rough scabs. She blushes, although she tries her best not to, breathing in deeply.
“How are you feeling, baby?”
You look towards your totally healed arm, finally realizing that you know have full control of your hands, unlike yesterday. It’s wrapped in a bandage for precautions, but it feels totally healed.
“All good,” you smile.
“You gotta take it real easy for the next week or so, yeah?” she fusses, brushing hair behind your ear. “So you call me, or one of my siblings, anyone to help you with anything. No lifting heavy stuff, don’t do anything too fast- you might tear the healing.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll carry me around like a princess?” you giggle, laying back, inviting her into your arms. She gets back under the covers, head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat.
“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Practical. Very safe.”
You hit her shoulder. “I’m joking.”
“Eh, I’ll change your mind.”
You smile, running your hands through her hair, enjoying the early mornings with her warmth against you, soft sunlight peeking through windows.
She sits up after a moment, laying her head back on the pillow, arm back around your waist. She just sits there for a moment, you can feel her admiring you. Clarisse doesn’t look at you. She traces your face with her eyes, imagining it was her hands, her lips, she admires you like she sees a reverence in your eyes that has nothing to do with your godly parent.
“Can you promise me something?” she asks, whispering softly, even though you’re the only two people around.
“What?” you say, staring at the ceiling, feeling like you might fall back asleep.
“Don’t get hurt. Like, ever again, please.”
You smile. “Okay, baby,” you mumble.
“I’m serious,” she smiles, nudging your cheek with her nose. “I… I was really scared. And I don’t like to feel that way, especially when it comes to you. I was angry, too. I was so fuckin’ angry I’m surprised I didn’t kill him. You can’t get hurt like that, not again, you just gotta let me protect you. Or else I might actually kill someone, Y/N.”
“I know,” you mumble. “I watched you.”
“Did I scare you?” she asks, voice soft. There’s no hint of your loving, smiley Clarisse in this bed right now. She’s worried, as if she could ever scare you.
“No,” you say, honestly. “It’s sweet how far you’re willing to go for me.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles. “You better like it. Do you know what I got for that? Eight months no dessert. Five months cleaning the fuckin’ stables.”
You barely hide your laugh. “Oh, my Gods, are you serious?”
“Yes,” she grumbles. “But, I’ve decided it’s fine. You’re my loving girlfriend, right? You can sit there all pretty so I have something to look at when I’m cleaning. And you’ll share your dessert with me, won’t you?”
“Yeah,” you mumble, turning your head. “I will.”
“I really love you. My perfect pretty princess,” she jokes, smiling lopsidedly, and you return it. “You’ll let me protect you, and maybe I can get some decent sleep at night, huh?”
When she presses her hand to your face and her lips to yours, you think nothing could possible ruin this moment. It’s just you and her, and everything that’s beautiful.
“You always protect me, Clar,” you smile.
She smiles, lips grazing yours. This is your Clarisse. The one who smiles just for you, who puts her rough hand softly against your face. This is your Clarisse, the one who would do anything for you, the one who wants to carry you around, the one who wants to protect you and hold you and never let anyone fuck with her baby.
The door slams open, someone is laughing boisterously, another person is groaning in pain, and a familiar voice is shouting your names.
“Clarisse! Y/N! Clarisse, Clarisse! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Danny shouts, dragging out the last syllable of your name. He jumps onto the bed by your feet, even when Clarisse frowns, looking at you like a puppy dog who’s just brought a dead bird to your doorstep.
And as you look at the scene behind you, Nelson being laid on another bed, Carrie being helped into the corner- laughing hysterically, knuckles split open.
Nelson’s face is practically unrecognizable.
You suppose Danny really did bring something unsavory like a dead bird, dropping it right at your feet.
“So, we all woke up right?”
Your eyes whip to Danny, shocked as he know launches into a story about Carrie waking up to Nelson saying he hadn’t been called to the Big House yet, maybe he would get away from it- but swiftly received punishment in the form of Carrie’s fists. With Clarisse in your bed, no one had the guts to stop them, and they fought for what must have been 10 minutes- Nelson very obviously losing.
“And, now we’re here,” Danny sighs, breathing out after his long and embellished rant. “But you’re awake, Y/N!”
He looks at your skeptically- specifically, at your arm.
“Can I hug you?”
“Oh,” you smile, your heart twisting with such a fondness for this wonderful little kid. “Of course you can, Danny,” you smile, opening your arms wide.
“Yes, just be careful,” Clarisse cautions, her arm around your waist. “Watch the arm, huh?”
“He’s just a baby, Clarisse,” you mumble, breath messing his hair.
“He’s 11.”
“Baby,” you reinforce, squeezing him tighter.
“Y/N… you’re crushing me,” he groans.
“Oops,” you say, letting him go. “You’re just too cute,” you coo.
Clarisse scoffs from next to you. You smile, kissing her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Scary, dangerous. Not cute, though.”
She hums. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Carrie walks over, sporting her split knuckles, also opting to let them heal naturally like Clarisse. She shows them off with a wide smile, even as Nelson screams in the background when they reset his nose.
Matty rubs his temples.
You smile, looking around at your very dysfunctional, very awkward, but loving family-adjacent.
“Hey, did we end up winning the game?” you ask.
Clarisse snorts. “Oh, nah. Without us, they were lost. Who cares, though?”
“Yeah, I liked beating Nelson up much more than I would have liked winning,” Carrie smiles.
“Next time,” Danny starts, “Can I lead again?”
Clarisse squints at him. “…Maybe.”
You wink at him, nodding subtly.
“Okay!” he smiles.
Clarisse kisses your forehead.
“I love you, pretty baby,” she mumbles.
You smile. “I love you too, scary baby.”
—-
clarisse when she sees y/n get hurt: oh so the only natural response to to THROW A FUCKING SPEAR AT SOMEONE
appreciation for the fact she threw it from like really far away and just tore through his armor likkkkeeee
nelson and nicky sitting in the infirmary together hugging each other terrified clarisse and carrie are going to come back for more
nicky does not sleep at night anymore SHE SAID SHE WASNT DONE
—-
shout out to my baby danny he carried this fic fr
shoutout to y/n for getting WRECKED so we could have this beautiful moment w clarisse
shoutout to matty for being his beautiful self
shoutout to carrie for being her violent self
and finally shoutout to clarisse for being overprotective and insane
—-
clarisse after she actually convinced y/n to let her carry her around everywhere: 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
bitch is so happy…
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
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pinkcowzz · 2 months
Text
i like to hc that tim drakes worst trait is being a guilt tripper.
i don't think many people would argue that the batfamily has done some nasty shit to tim. bruce's dismissal when tim first started training, dick giving away the robin mantle without consulting tim, damian's & jason's murder attempts, alfred's silent complicity. tim has led a traumatizing life.
however! when put into their original context, the actions (except alfreds i love him but his compliance is so unforgivable in my eyes tbh) of the family make sense. bruce was grieving his dead son, of course he didn't want to take someone else's kid under his wing. dick had so much on his plate of course he thought tim could handle himself. jason was back from the dead and thought his family had replaced him without another care and damian felt so threatened and out of water in gotham he wanted to prove himself the only way he knew how at the time.
but tim? tim holds grudges. he is constantly angry and seething but he waits. he waits until a small minor disagreement occurs and pulls up the past to shame his family into giving him his way.
bruce doesn't want to approve a mission because it puts tim under unnecessary risks? "oh so you still don't trust me bruce. no it's fine, i understand. i'll hand off this mission to dick or damian since they're better suited for it. " how could bruce not change his mind. "no tim it's not that. of course i trust you i just wanted to make sure you were being safe. it's your call."
dick is busy juggling (circus pun intended) the titans and his job and patrols in bludhaven and his social life and his relationship with babs and his commitment to damian and "sorry tim i can't hang out this week. can we schedule something for next month?" and tim pulls his famous "oh no it's fine. don't even worry about me i'll just...well maybe cass is free to see the movie with me. i just figured since we haven't spent all that much time together since i brought bruce back it'd be nice to spend time out of the masks together...but it's fine." and dick is suddenly choking on the guilt of firing tim and the chasm that separates them now.
damian is being a regular angsty teen and is being rude to tim? "geez damian i thought you grew out of this phase. you haven't insulted me like that since you first got here. whatever you want blood son" and damian is suddenly doubting his place in the family again because if they kicked todd out because of his anger and violence where does that leave him. and the next day damian leaves a drawing for tim to find as an apology.
and maybe it's just my middle child syndrome speaking but i also think that jason is the only one who sees tims stunts for what they are. jason will get a text from dick in the middle of the night saying "i may never understand why you do what you do but i am here to back you up if you ever need me. just call. love you little wing" and jason is rolling his eyes and texting tim "wtf did you tell dick and why is being brotherly to me? as someone who tried to kill you over the grudge i was holding you really need to let yours go"
idk. just something to think about.
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daveth-isnt-dead · 4 months
Text
Tentatively
Summary:
You don’t want to tell him the truth, that most of your friends have grown up and don’t talk to you anymore, that while you love your family it’s too difficult to find time to travel and see them, that you are incredibly lonely.
Contains: Fem Reader, Death Mention (but only as much as you would expect given the source material) Word Count: 2,235 Read on AO3
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You still feel strange a few hours after leaving the chatroom. Grim, who despite all evidence to the contrary, is actually the Grim Reaper, left pretty abruptly after telling you there is something incredibly wrong with your soul and you are unsure if you should be concerned or offended about the whole thing. 
After a disappointing meal of microwaved leftovers and an attempt at enjoying a relaxing bath despite your apartment’s abysmal water temperature, you find yourself laying back on your bed and staring up at the all too uninteresting ceiling as you wait for your hair to dry. The window above your desk is open and the cool breeze is pleasant, but you’re already getting the sense that you will have trouble getting to sleep tonight, despite Grim’s uncharacteristic insistence that you get some rest after today. 
There’s something so lonely about these summer nights, lonely enough that you find yourself scrolling through your contacts list, looking for someone ( anyone ) to talk to. Calling your parents this late will only make them worry, and all of your friends from uni have much better sleep schedules than you do and will already be out cold. You toss your phone onto the vacant pillow beside you and let out a sigh, that really only leaves one option. 
Hoisting yourself from the bed, you walk over to the desk and grab your laptop. Quickly tapping open the chatroom app and turning off your camera before hitting the call button. You push your lamp and pot-plant out of the way to leave room for the laptop on your bedside table and lay back down as you wait for an answer. 
You spend the first seven rings worrying that he won't pick up, by the eighth you are proven wrong.
“I thought I already told you to go to sleep.” He says in lieu of a greeting. 
All the lethargic energy in the room suddenly dissipates, and your mouth tugs up in a smile, “Hello to you too”
“I was being serious.”
“Yeah, but you aren’t my boss.” He huffs, “I am your reaper.” “Oh?” You reply, smirking to yourself, “ My reaper, are you? Just mine?” “No! I- I’m just assigned to you. That does not mean-”
You laugh, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just teasing, thank you for picking up, I mean it.” It’s quiet, but you swear that you hear a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the call, “I- well, I just wanted to be certain that you were not suffering any side effects from the soul connection.” He clears his throat, “You…aren’t…are you?”
“I’m having trouble sleeping, but I don’t think I can blame that on you. I suppose I feel a little jittery? But that makes sense given my emotional state right now.” “What is it?” “What’s what?” “Your uh- your emotional state.”
“Oh.” You say, feeling your heart beating a rapid tattoo behind your ribs, “Well, I dunno. I’m a little overwhelmed, I suppose. I really just thought you were an edgy cosplayer, and I mean, you still are but you are also literally the Grim Reaper, so I’m still just dealing with that I guess.”
“That is perfectly normal, then. Though you should have been feeling frightened the moment I contacted you, your reaction was quite delayed.” “Hey! I never said ‘frightened’ I said overwhelmed! That’s a completely different emotion.”
He chuckles, “Unable to stop thinking about me, then?” “That also isn't what I said.” Though, he isn’t entirely wrong, “I’m just worried about how I'm going to focus at work tomorrow when I’ll be spending the whole day looking over my shoulder to make sure some white-haired twink isn't about to commit murder upon me.” 
“White-haired what? ” “Twinnnnk~” You reply, “Look it up, I’m sure that will keep you busy for a few hours.” “I hardly need to be kept busy , I have important work to do.” “Like stealing my soul.” “Yours and others, I do not just follow you around all day.” He says dryly, “You are not that important. Also, I will not be murdering you. I am pushing you in the correct direction, one you have stubbornly been avoiding for far too long.” You hum quietly to yourself, reaching out to pat your cat where he sits next to you on the bed, “How was I meant to die anyway? Just out of curiosity, since you seem to know everything about it.” He doesn't answer for some time, and the deafening silence makes you regret even posing the question. 
“Do you really want to know?” He finally asks, “Most people never find out, because unlike you they die when they are supposed to.” “Hit me with it, Grimmy.” He groans, “Do not call me that.” then you hear him sigh, deeply, contemplatively, “You were supposed to die of food poisoning.” “Oh.” You reply, feeling your heart sink a little, “Damn, that sucks. That’s so…boring”
“Death often is.” “I guess, well, I guess I was hoping that the way I die might be interesting at least. What food would have poisoned me anyway?” “Ham sandwich.” “Yikes. Was the ham poisoned or something?” “No, just expired. On a related note, you do need to clean out your fridge more often.” He’s right. Your fridge is pretty nasty, and it kind of always has been. It’s a very low priority on your list of tasks.
“Grim?”
“Yes?”
You swallow, unsure how to phrase the real question hiding in the recesses of your mind, “could you…I dunno, kill me gently, if it comes to it? I mean, I just-“ you roll over onto your side, making eye contact with the black screen of your laptop, “If I have to die, I don’t want it to hurt.”
There’s silence for a moment, and then he replies, “I don’t want it to hurt you either.”
“That’s…sweet, Thank you.” “Lacking desire to see you suffer does not make me sweet , it makes me considerate .” He sighs irritably, “More importantly, does this mean you’re finally willing to hand over your soul?” You laugh, “ No! I just- I dunno, I had a weird day and I'm feeling kinda existential now.” You look through your window, staring up at the night sky, “Do you feel that way sometimes, or is it just a human thing?”
“I do not see how that’s any of your business.” “C’mon, Grim. Just play along for once, get silly with it.” You hear him huff on the other end of the line, you can picture the exact pouty face he must be making right now, “I have been a reaper as long as I can remember, and will continue to be one for the rest of my life, there is little for me to be existential about.”
“Hm.” 
“What?” He says brusquely, “What are you ‘hm-ing’ about?”
“The thought of having one job for the rest of my life is exactly the sort of thing that makes me existential, that’s all.” “Well you don’t have to work at the same job for the rest of your life, so what exactly are you complaining about?” “I mean, the rest of my life might only be a few more days.” You say, “Provided you win our bet of course, which you will not be doing.” “Do not doubt me, Sunshine. You may come to regret it.” You giggle, “Doubtful.” There’s a rustling sound on the other end of the call, you can only assume that he is also lying in bed right now, “I am quite literally death, and I even gave you concrete proof of this fact this evening.” his voice turns quiet, dare you think it, wistful, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” You shrug, even though he can’t see you, “You aren’t very scary.”
“I am going to take your soul .” “You are going to try and take my soul.” a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And even if you do, you’ve already promised to do it gently .” “I promised not to hurt you, I never said anything about being gentle .” 
“I’m sorry, I just don’t see the difference between those two statements.” He groans, and when he speaks again his voice is muffled. You suspect he has his face buried in a pillow, “You are infuriating. When I leave the chatroom for the evening I assume that I am done with you, I was not prepared for you to insist on continuing our conversation well into the night.”
“What, are you tired?” All goes quiet for a moment, and then, “No. Are you?” “Nope.” “Hmph, you should be at this hour, especially after a day of work.”
“I- well, I dunno…”
You don’t want to tell him the truth, that most of your friends have grown up and don’t talk to you anymore, that while you love your family it’s too difficult to find time to travel and see them, that you are incredibly lonely. You are tired, you have to be up at 5:00 to get ready for work tomorrow morning, but the idea of saying goodbye, of hanging up, makes something ache deep inside you. Something inside the very soul he wants to steal. 
“You don’t know, what?”
“Huh?” Grim huffs again, “You said, ‘i dunno’ and then stopped talking, which is very out of character for you, by the way.” “Oh? Did you miss me? Were even those brief seconds of silence enough to make you realize how much you love hearing my voice?” “I will hang up.” 
“Don’t.” You say before you have time to think better of it, “Please.”
“I-“ he clears his throat, “Only if you can act normally for the rest of our conversation.”
“I’m plenty normal, you’re the weird one.”
“What’s weird, how am I weird?”
You roll onto your back, staring up at the celing, “Oh i dunno, just the whole ‘I am death incarnate! I have come for your soul! I will connect my soul to yours! ’ schtik” 
“You know fully well that it is not a…what did you call it? A schtik?” He pronounces the word completely wrong, “Whatever that is, it is not one of those. I am death incarnate, I am here for you soul, and you were literally an active part in the soul connection.”
“Oh, about that soul connection thing, by the way.” He scoffs, “Your ability to change the subject at a whim is still strong as ever i see.” 
“I know, I’m very talented- anyway! I wanted to ask if you can do anything cool now that we have a soul link or whatever.” “I have already told you, I cannot control your body. As entertaining as it would be to embarrass you publicly, even my exceptional abilities could not do that” 
“Oh kay , how about something easier, then?” You feel the warmth of your cat as he snuggles up against your side and instinctively reach out to pat him, “Read my mind, go on!” “I cannot do that.” “C’mon, Grimmy, give it a go!” You squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m thinking about something real hard right now.” He sighs, “Are you thinking about your cat?” “ Whaaaat? How did you know?!”
“I didn’t know , i guessed. I can’t read your mind, but i am still attuned with your soul.” His voice has turned uncharacteristically soft, he’s almost whispering, “It… flutters …when you are happy, and your cat makes you happy. So I guessed…”
“So you’re a soul reader, then?” You ask, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach also feels oddly fluttery right now.
“That is not a thing. You’re just making things up now.”
“Try again.” You say, your mind unwittingly flooded with thoughts of soft white hair and judgemental red eyes. Of hands you wish were bare, of sharp toothed smiles. Your heart slows to a languid rhythm, and something you aren’t ready to put a name to curls warmly in your belly. You close your eyes, softly this time, and breathe, “What am i thinking about now?”
He goes silent for a long time, you can hear the slow, even draw of his breath. You can picture him laying back on his bed, hair splayed over the pillow, brow creased in concentration and you wonder if he is thinking about you too. After what feels like an age, he finally answers, “your…plant?”
You burst into laughter and any tension in the air shatters, “My plant?! What about my soul was screaming plant just then?”
“Well, I don’t know! It was just happy again, happier, even and I assumed that you were smart enough not to just think about your cat again.” 
“Yeah, you got me.” You lie, “it was my cat again.”
“Hells, every single day you find a new way to get under my skin.” He sighs, and despite his earlier statement, his next words come out almost fondly , “You need sleep, mortal.”
“Yeah.” You reply, feeling that ache tug at you again, “I probably do.”
“I will talk to you tomorrow, that is, if you survive until then.”
That gets a laugh out of you, and you can’t tell if that was his intention or if he was being completely serious, “I look forward to it. Remember to murder me nicely, Grim.”
“As nicely as I can, I swear.” You can hear his smile, “Goodnight, Sunshine.”
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Text
Dressing for revenge [K. B]
Kaz Brekker x fem!reader
word count: 7k
summary: when Kaz and his crows return from Ravka they run into trouble, and to solve it, he looks for a childhood friend who is too resentful and too in love with him
warnings: trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, no physical contact, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej
A/N: I LOVE Kanej, but I wanted to write something with Kazzle Dazzle because I love him too, lol. I hope you like it!
taglist (who I thought might be interested): @rustyyyyspoonz
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The rumor had already spread throughout the Barrel: “Kaz Brekker and his crows are back” How long had it been since they had embarked into the Fold? Just a couple of months? They had felt like years, if you were being honest.
If it was true that they were back, you felt sorry for the trouble they were going to run into. The change of ownership of their club, the strengthening of the other gangs, and mainly the fact that they were being tried for murder thanks to the fact that Pekka Rollins had awarded it to them... all these problems were going to fall on them like a bucket of water cold. It had already fallen on them, in fact, since the rumor was accompanied that they had escaped from the stadwatch once they were captured.
You didn't know how much of what everyone was saying was true and how much was false, trying to stay as calm as possible when the name Kaz came from someone's lips for fear that Pekka had some magical ability and could read your mind or sense the fear in your eyes every time you met him. Afraid of him and afraid of what he might do to you if he knew you knew the black-haired man.
Things had changed a lot since the last time you saw the boy and that was more than noticeable. Your story goes back long before he made his reputation when you were just a couple of neighbor kids playing on the farms. You two arrived in Ketterdam together, with nothing but hopes for a better future and Jordie as your protector (or an attempt at that, at least), after your father and Mr. Rietveld died in the same accident, reuniting with Kaz’s mother and later to be matched by your mother, who had died of sadness, if that was possible. Three helpless children thrown into the cruel world were what came of that and the rest is history.
Crime, robbery, gangs, and a life of hardship were what you had to adjust to as a child, but you doubted very much that a single person living in The Barrel would be in a different situation. You weren't fully involved in the disgraced jobs of the majority, but if there was one true thing, it was that when it came to obtaining information you were, to say the least, excellent. You and Kaz had to fend for yourselves, and you learned what you could from the streets. In this way he and you became a team, so to speak, for a few teenage years, and for that period of your lives having each other was the only thing in the world. Over time he became ruthless, rude, a great fighter and earned the nickname 'dirtyhands' thanks to his gambling skills, from which he obtained most of the things you had. You learned to move quickly, to go unnoticed, and to defend yourself from those who tried to harm you, always supporting the boy’s plans.
Less than a year was enough for his name to become known and he began to think big. Sometimes he would tell you about the plans he had: to run Fifth Harbor, to establish the crow club, to become the best of The Barrel. All of that sounded like crazy ideas at first, but looking back you realized that he had accomplished too much in that pit for your relatively young age.
You never knew what made you and Kaz go their separate ways, but somehow it had happened. It was gradual, maybe that's why it was hard for you to notice, but one day you woke up and realized the distance that existed between him, who previously was practically the only family you knew, and you. It didn't take much for him to decide to break the bond that had held you together from a very early age; he never gave reasons for this and you never asked him.
You lived under some protection from the leader of The Crows, of course, but very few people could link you to The Bastard of the Barrel. Sometimes you still provided him with information, but when he found someone else, the inquiries became less and less frequent until one day they turned into none. You managed to eat and have a roof over your head pretty well (and mostly honestly) and you tried to stay out of trouble for a long time.
Until one day he flew away from Ketterdam without warning and order in the Barrel was disturbed in every possible way. With his team gone, it didn't take long for Pekka to seize control and anyone who didn't work for him was inevitably against him. It was only a matter of time before he found out the talent you had tried to hide and forced you to carry his lion shield... figuratively speaking.
If he ever knew that you used to work with Kaz he never mentioned it or maybe your relationship with him had been severed so long that no one remembered it anymore. Now you were just a little girl, as he used to call you, slippery enough that she seemed so harmless that, in his eyes, that became a benefit. You were never one to look rude, unfortunately for you, and that allowed men like him to feel entitled to take advantage of you. You thanked the saints that Rollins didn't find you attractive or who knows what other services he would have requested from you. It was always better to provide him with the information he needed than for him to force you to be his lover.
You weren't a part of the meetings that the Dime Lions had and you weren't considered a member either, which kept you calm every night. You were just another piece in the enormous chess game that Pekka moved at his convenience, the same game that was threatened by the mere existence of Kaz Brekker and much more so now that he had returned.
In the middle of the night it was logical to ask yourself, what kind of strange plans would he have in mind now?
One, two, and three knocks surprised you at the rickety wooden door and made you jump out of your chair, where you were already asleep. An old lamp was on the even older table and it illuminated the little space that your provisional home had so you took it to approach to open the door. It was raining outside (quite unusual for that time of year) and by the time it was you figured it was one of Rollins' idiots coming to do a job for you. What would he want now? Harbor information? Talk to a policeman? He was supposed to control everything, sometimes you kept wondering why he asked for your help.
When you opened the door, the air slipped in and almost extinguished the flame of the fire, but the temperature of the night wasn’t what left you freezing, but the presence that was in front of you. With his hat, a completely black outfit, and his cane in hand, but above all soaked from head to toe, there was him; Kaz. You almost feared you were imagining it, but you knew it was him by the clear, penetrating eyes that were watching you, even though you admitted that he had changed so much that in other circumstances you would have had trouble recognizing him.
“Did I arrive at a bad time?” he asked. No warm greetings, no smiles, no explanations. Just a cold, serious question, just the way he was.
“Someone followed you? If this place is horrible by itself, I don't want blood staining the floor” you replied with the same tone. You wanted to tell him that you had missed him, ask him if he was okay, and give him a huge hug, but those actions should be reserved for your nocturnal fantasies, because as soon as you took a step forward he would be able to hit you with his cane. Or at least that's what the Kaz you knew would do, but you doubted very much that the passing of the years would have softened his heart.
"Nobody followed me" was all he said and you stepped aside at the door so he could go inside. Even with his words, you felt the need to look out on both sides of the street in search of someone, but with the level of rain, you doubted very much that someone would want to stay and spy because he would probably die of pneumonia.
When you closed the door and turned around he didn't say anything, he just stood in front of you while the water drained from his coat. During that moment of silence, you allowed yourself to admire it under the warm light of the candle; his eyes definitely hadn't changed one bit, but now there was a tinge of contempt more noticeable than before. His features had hardened and he was thinner, barely resembling the boy you remembered, perhaps as a reminder of just that... that he was now a man.
“So the rumors are true…” you started to say “You are back”
"I think that's more than obvious," he exclaimed. For a second you forgot that it was he who had knocked on your door and you felt uncomfortable as if you were an intruder who had to get out of there.
There was silence again and you two just looked at each other. Kaz had made his own mental list of changes he noticed in you and was reflecting on when was the last time he had looked at you in such detail. You were wearing light clothes, because before he arrived you were about to go to sleep, and your face, although as childish as always, looked more tired than before. You had also cut your hair, which was messy around your shoulders and a bit darker in tone.
“And may I know to what I owe your visit? I guess you don't want to have tea” you said to break the silence. The dryness of your words in a certain way was to protect yourself because you never knew how much a sharp tongue like his could hurt you.
"I'm in a job and I need people"
Of course it was going to be due to a job, and of course that was why he had sought you out after so many years. A part of you, tremendously stupid, to tell you the truth, was hoping that during the time your friend was away from Ketterdam some divine clarity would have illuminated him so that he would realize that he had to look for you to repair your relationship and offer at least apologies. But you would have to pay him every kruge in the country for him to do something like that.
"I'm glad you considered me, but I'm sorry I have to decline."
"Why?" he asked immediately, his raspy voice showing annoyance at the refusal.
“Because it happens that you can’t work for opposing sides. At least not at the same time” you replied. Maybe it was due to fatigue, but you swore you saw a slight look of surprise on the man's face when you answered that. Most likely, he had assumed that you would be one of the few people who wouldn’t be on Pekka’s side and therefore a safe option.
“Do you work for Pekka?” he muttered. You knew him well enough to know that he was hurt, you could see it in his posture, in his voice, and especially in his look “After all he did to us?”
"And what did you want him to do?" you said, trying to ignore the fact that he had spoken in the plural. Us “You practically handed us over to him. My options were that or receive a bullet in the forehead."
"I didn’t hand you over to anyone"
"You abandoned us and left us in his hands, it's the same thing" you replied, shrugging. There was so much resentment and pain from never-closed wounds floating in the air that it was hard for him and you to think clearly. “Your vacation in Ravka may have been nice, but things only just went to hell here. So don't you dare judge me by the choices I made” you exclaimed defensively.
You didn't imagine that your first conversation with him after so long would be like this, but unfortunately, things never turned out the way you expected. After all, they were a crook and a spy talking in the dead of night.
"You could get information from him more easily," Kaz concluded, shrugging the same way you did. "And so we sink him from the inside."
"And risk him finding out and killing me?"
“You know that would never happen,” he said firmly “The thing about killing you. I wouldn't allow him” his eyes stared at you almost offended by the lack of trust you had towards him. There was silence for the third time and this time your gaze moved away to focus on anything but him.
"Plus you have this girl you took out of The Menagerie, don't you?" you said in your defense. The one you replaced me with, you wanted to add, but held back "So I don't know what you might need me for" 
"With so many problems going on, I thought it would be better to have as many alliances as possible," he explained to you. You continued without looking at him, with your head still full of worries and sorrows, and when he didn’t receive an answer, he spoke again "You know that it is your best option"
"I don't know that, but I do know that I would have liked you to at least ask how I am before asking me to join the team you never wanted me in and from which you separated me as soon as you had the chance" you exhaled, in an attempt to lighten the weight on your chest. 
It was no secret that you had always felt betrayed by Kaz’s treatment of you, even though he treated dozens of others the same way, because you somehow thought that your backstory was enough to deserve at least the sympathy or some consideration on the part of the crow. And of course you wanted to run from Pekka's clutches and plunge him into the deepest muck, but the resentment for what you considered your friend’s abandonment was stronger. You didn't even know if it was correct to call him ‘friend’.
"You would be a good ace up my sleeve" was all he replied, in an attempt to convince you. Kaz begged absolutely no one, but if there was one thing he had decided before coming to find you, it was that he wouldn't leave until you agreed to help him. Although the nature of your current job made things a bit difficult for him, "Pekka never knew you worked for me, did he?"
"With you" you corrected him "I didn't work for you but with you. We got to The Barrel at the same time”
"Y/N" he murmured. Your name sounded strange coming from his lips after so long without hearing it and that caught you off guard “I'm trying to help you so you don't end up hurt or dead. If you work for… with me, I can tell you where not to be. Otherwise I could find you in the rubble of some confrontation or with a knife from Inej or a bullet from Jesper through your chest”
"Always so thoughtful," you replied with a smirk, but as much as it pained you to admit it, he had a point. You knew what he was capable of and what Pekka was capable of… which side was more convenient to be on? "How much are you going to pay me?" you asked and Kaz smiled, but it wasn't a sign of happiness but mockery “You've always said that's what's really important, haven't you?”
He took something out of his coat and tossed it on the table. They were bills. 
"An advance, when I recover the crow club, I will pay you the rest"
“So my pay depends on whether we win or not. That doesn't sound so convenient to me,” you muttered, clicking your tongue, as you fought the urge to say yes just to be near him. It was cold outside, the rain was making a lot of noise and you just wanted to sleep at once, but you knew that you could have been arguing with him all night and neither of you would back down. Kaz was stubborn, one way or another he would get what he wanted. "This isn't just about the club, is it?" you said, with your voice noticeably lower and you would even say with a touch of softness. You and Kaz never talked about what had happened, but each of you was dealing with the weight of the trauma in your own way. He didn't say anything and this time you saw something in him that was different from his usual behavior, knowing that it was those ghosts from the past tormenting him.
"If someone should make him pay, it's us"
Us, again. 
"I'll think about it" was what you answered, after reflecting on what would be the appropriate response. The speechless moment gave you something else to think about, and you knew that a huge flaw of yours was how easily you let your heart take over. Because even with all the other feelings on top, you still worried about him "Now that the crow club isn't yours..." you started to say, afraid of what he might say "do you have a place to stay?"
You would have offered to sleep there if he said no, but instead he said he’d manage. That didn't completely reassure you, but you decided not to insist.
“First thing tomorrow, send a reply to this address,” he asked you, holding out a piece of paper that had a few drops on it “Don't go there personally or you'll screw everything up, just send me a note. A yes or a no will suffice”
“What if someone tracks down the note?” you asked, which was a totally valid concern.
Kaz was silent while he thought of an alternative, and then spoke again.
“Just write crows of a feather, murder together. I'll understand” he murmured and you nodded. You knew the poem he was quoting from, had read it many times from the worn-out book he had gotten for you. Kaz didn't wait for anything else and took long steps to the door, which he opened as soon as he could. "Good night, Y/N."
And then he left.
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That night you thought a lot about the solution you would give him in the morning, thinking about the pros and cons of each possible answer, until you decided that it was best to say yes. You needed to do it if you wanted to live peacefully (as much as the place allowed) but the main reason was to support him. If he had been about any stupid dispute you would have said no, but you knew this was something else. Kaz missed Jordie every day of his life and his way of honoring him was by planning revenge against the one who led him to that fate, so it was kind of an obligation for you to help him with that too.
You wrote the note on a piece of paper and carefully folded it to put it in an envelope. You signed the outside with his name, written in the best handwriting you had, and although you were hesitant to do so, at the end you wrote a little ‘from a friend’ in the hope of making it clear to him, and perhaps even encouraging him that, if he was willing, you could recover a little of what you had lost. And you weren’t referring to physical things, but to what existed between you.
All your life you had lived with almost opposite feelings when it came to Kaz. Somehow you were upset with him for only seeing you as an instrument that he could dispose of for his interests, but this was linked to the feeling of affection that you wanted him to experience for you and that apparently didn’t exist. It was difficult to decipher anything he was thinking, not just about you, since he had taken it upon himself to build such a convincing facade that it made it complicated to see beyond. Added to that was his aversion to touch of any kind, which, while quite understandable and justified, still made you feel sad. More than once you tried, in vain, to be able to touch him in some way, even if it was something tiny, but he always pushed you away. He pushed you away physically and eventually emotionally, and yet with all this background you wanted to help him.
You knew you couldn't expect a reply to your note, but you were confident that he had received it, and your suspicions were confirmed when another letter came back a couple of days later. It contained a day, a time, and a place, which you assumed was a meeting with him.
You were very careful when you headed there, because you thought that the fewer people saw you together, the better, or else Pekka might suspect something. You covered yourself with a long black cloak for this task and when you arrived you noticed that it wasn't Kaz who was there, but a couple of boys.
"Who are you?"
"And you?" you asked, with the same defensive tone. The place seemed to be an experiment workshop and looking at it in more detail you noticed that there was a bed, so it could even be some kind of apartment. The two men, one brown-skinned and the other pale as snow, wore simple brown suits and were looking at you warily.
“She is Y/N,” said a voice behind you. By the sound of the cane accompanied by the footsteps you knew it was Kaz, “she will work with us”
"Oh," said the dark-haired boy, looking happier with the answer, as he walked in your direction "Welcome, in that case" he muttered flirtatiously, as he held out his hand for you to greet him "Jesper Fahey, at your service”
"I am Wylan" intervened the other, from his place, timidly and quickly.
"You arrived" Kaz spoke again. You turned and a couple of women appeared, you guessed that the shorter one with Suli features was the famous wraith of Kaz. And she was beautiful, you couldn't help but notice.
There was a brief conversation with the six of you there and then Kaz asked you to walk him up to the roof of the place. Once there you instinctively stood next to the only one you knew and he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye while he adopted the typical position of him leaning on the cane.
“Brick by brick” whispered the man’s raspy voice and you were about to ask what you were supposed to do there when an explosion went off in the distance so impressively that you stepped back a bit. It didn't take you more than a few seconds to locate the space and realize the place it was.
"The crow club" you said in a low voice, only for the black-haired man to hear you, while you watched him in profile. But he didn't look at you, just exchanged words with the others and talked about how Pekka's apparent reign was coming to an end.
You'd always known that Kaz Brekker was a little unhinged, and that night you proved it for sure, but you weren't even the least bit afraid. Rather, it was some strange hope that this madness would allow you to go far. Even freedom, perhaps.
After that clear declaration of war, things got considerably complicated, especially when you were summoned before Pekka and he asked you to investigate someone in particular and it turned out to be none other than the man you were now secretly working with. You assumed it was something logical, but even so you feared that Rollins had noticed the slight tremor in your hands when he asked you to complete the task.
You summoned Kaz to Black Veil Cemetery, late at night, and there you confessed to him everything that had happened. He of course found something good in this and devised a way to use it to your advantage, which put you at ease. It still amazed you a little at how nervous you became around him as if you knew nothing of what you were doing, but when you regained your composure you thought it was an excellent plan.
Meetings with Kaz were regular, but always in secret and alone, and they worked to exchange information that you considered useful for him with what he would allow Pekka to know.
You didn't know the full plans and you weren't part of them in any way, or you would be found out, but you knew about almost everything that was going on. The attacks, the fights, the traps, the injuries... you had to look at everything from the outside without being able to intervene. It was frustrating for you, more than anything in the world, and you had to admit that you had taken a liking to crows, even if you had seen them only a couple of times, so you also looked after their safety.
One day you received a note and went to a meeting with all the members of his group present, to finally hear the full version of what Kaz intended to do to finish off your boss. It was a brilliant idea, but you were a little worried about your position in all of this.
“You mean I'm going to be there watching everything Pekka and his thugs do?”
"It will be the best" he answered you. His face still had a bruise on his cheek, a memory from the last fight he had, and he looked exhausted "Jesper and Nina will be there, plus you'll be in disguise" he added and you nodded at that.
When the moment came you thought it would be an easy task, but when Kaz started to get brutally beaten you had to muster all your willpower not to throw yourself into trying to face Pekka, even with your zero skill. He sounded so convincing when he said about Alby that even you believed it, feeling suddenly awed by the cynical smile on Kaz's blood-smeared face. And he also mentioned you in the story, although not directly, saying that it was all about revenge for having abandoned you two when you were children.
You were able to breathe again until Pekka and his entire gang left the place in search of a son who wasn't really buried and you four were left alone. Under other circumstances you would have run to Kaz, cupped his face in your hands, sobbed, and told him it was over. But instead, you just stood in front of him and watched him; his eyes were wild with fury and a thirst for revenge that had already been quenched, but you sensed a hint of calm when he became aware of your presence.
"Breathe," you said in a whisper. Jesper and Nina were dismayed by the closeness with which you spoke to him, as they knew little of your history together “You're fine. We all are,” you assured him. That situation took you back to multiple panic attacks in the past where, given the impossibility of physical contact, all you could do for him was talk to calm him down. It always worked and Kaz had forgotten how soft your voice was and the way you brought him back to the real world. You decided to risk trying to do something else to comfort him and cautiously stretched out your hand towards him, instantly seeing his eyes widen in terror. But your hand ended up landing, more like a touch than a squeeze, on the man's bicep, which was covered by his coat; it wasn't intrusive, or abrupt, and Kaz was surprised that he didn't feel anything negative about it. He looked at your hand and then he looked at you with that usual serious expression, but he didn't push you away and allowed you to stay that way for just a few seconds, after which you decided to move your limb back.
You didn’t receive a verbal response at any time, but you did see him exhale shakily (so softly that you barely noticed) and nod his head while still looking at you, as if he were letting go of a huge weight that was stuck in his chest and at the same time assure you that it felt like a victory. Victory for beating Pekka, victory because he wasn't engulfed by an attack when you touched him, and victory because somehow you were there. You were with him, again.
“Now can we go back to normal?” Jesper asked, to break the silence, and you felt like laughing. Have they ever had a normal life? you asked yourself, but you didn't say.
"Yes" was all Kaz said and taking one last look at you he began to walk in the direction of the exit.
Both of them were curious about the type of relationship you had with Kaz but neither thought it wise to ask at the time, although Nina was getting an idea of things thanks to your racing heartbeat and his that it was impossible not to hear a moment ago. You stayed there just long enough to have a drink with Jesper and then you left the Emerald Palace. You didn't want to go back home, but going with one of them didn't seem like an option either, and once you were on the street you felt worried about remembering the state the black-haired man had left. You trusted that by that time he would be calmer and as if they thought for themselves your legs began to walk to look for him.
It was cold again and you feared you would meet someone dangerous on the road, but you only saw a couple of drunks and a girl looking for clients. Until you were in front of the door, you wondered if it was a good idea to go in, thinking that you would probably be crossing a line that Kaz was not going to allow you to, and wondering if you were going to put up with his refusal, which was a pretty good chance.
With trembling hands you opened the door, which luckily was unlocked, and as if some unknown instinct were guiding you, you found Kaz's room; it was the only one from which light came out through the crack in the door and something told you that he was there. You knocked twice, fearing you had knocked so low that he hadn't heard, and even considered walking back the way you came, but didn't have time to as the door opened a few seconds later. He had already taken off his coat and vest, probably because they were stained with blood, and his black shirt was open at the top buttons, with the suspenders that held up his pants hanging on his thighs. But what caught your attention the most were his pale, gloveless hands.
"What do you need?" he asked you directly. His face looked worse now that the bruises had swollen and the blood was dry. He'd probably have them for a couple of days, and he was definitely going to have a scar over his eyebrow.
"I wanted to see you" you replied, instantly regretting not having considered your sincere words better "I mean... to see how you were" you tried to correct. You thought he would slam the door in your face, but instead he scooted to the side to let you in, then closed the door behind you with a soft click.
Again you felt alien to the place for a moment, thanks to the fact that he looked at you from head to toe as if your presence bothered him. You had to mentally remind yourself that he saw most of them that way.
“Your pay will be ready soon”
"That doesn't matter," you said softly. Several things had changed since the first conversation you had with him, because now that you knew why Kaz had done everything he had done and the traumatic memories returned to both of you, the money had taken a backseat.
You didn't say anything for a moment and you looked for a place where you could sit later. Kaz’s room, once painted green but now just damp walls, had a small bed by the window, a desk littered with papers and a lamp facing another window, with a simple bookcase placed on the top of the side wall; a nightstand, a place to wash your hands with a mirror above it, a circular table in the middle of the free space, and a single armchair that at least looked comfortable. It wasn't the prettiest place, but at least it was cozy.
"Your girl, did she leave?"
“Inej is not my girl. Or from anyone, she is free now” he answered you. He still wasn't looking at you and you noticed that he was having a hard time staying on his feet.
"I'm glad to hear it. She deserves it” you murmured sincerely. You thought that she would be important to Kaz, like all his partners, and you decided to venture out to see if he revealed something else to you. "She's very smart."
"She is"
"And she's pretty too" you added and without moving his head he looked out at yours. You felt as if he was reading your intentions through your eyes, a quality he had always had.
"I think so," he said without much interest.
"Are you very hurt?" you asked, changing the subject, as you took a step towards him. By inertia he took the same step, in the opposite direction, and that made you stop abruptly.
"Nothing to worry about" he exclaimed and though he thought, you couldn't have known, of course, get close to you, you decided to take that step back before he did anything else. 
"Can I ask you something?"
"Mhm"
"What did I do to make you walk away?" you exclaimed, finally expressing a question that had been eating away at your chest and tormenting you for many nights in a row. And since there was silence, you spoke again: “Not like right now, but a long time ago. It's just… I never understood it. Before we were friends and for me… you were even like a family. I loved your brother too and I know losing him never affected us the same, but I was glad you were there for me after that. Then we got older and things got more difficult, but I still had you and that calmed me down. And then… we just drifted apart,” you muttered, shrugging, as you avoided his gaze. Kaz still didn't answer anything and you felt the obligation to fill the silence “Sometimes I remember the things we went through when we were young. The good ones, of course. Like that time we stole a cake to celebrate your birthday and it was probably the best sweet I've ever eaten” you commented, smiling at the memory "And when I made you laugh with my bad jokes, no matter how angry or sad you were... I haven't seen you smile for a long time and I don't know if you celebrate your birthday anymore” you reflected wistfully, almost as if you were talking to yourself. And well, in the face of Kaz's inexpressiveness, that's practically what you were doing.
He hadn't said anything yet and you concluded that all your effort was useless. It had been a mistake to go looking for him, as well as trying to get even the slightest proof that he had ever missed you and you wished you had never opened your mouth. You sighed to contain the urge to cry and without saying anything else you turned towards the exit, intending to leave and return only for your money, but Kaz's voice echoed. 
"Do you remember what I told Pekka?"
You stopped.
“You told him many things, you will have to be more specific”
"About not loving anything" he replied. Your hand trembled on the doorknob at the mere thought of what he was implying and I was able to hear your racing heart pounding in your chest. You heard footsteps and, still without moving, you heard him speak again "That's why I drifted apart”
You never, even in your wildest dreams, imagined that he would say something like that to you and perhaps you were just deluding yourself with the implication of the words, but it was enough to make you freeze in place.
"I still don't understand how that relates to me” you expressed in a low voice. Kaz took a few more steps towards you until you could see his shadow mingling with yours and you felt it was time to turn. He was watching you from above, seriously.
"I didn't want…" he trailed off. You would almost say he was nervous “I didn't want you to be…”
"A weak spot," you said without thinking, followed by a sigh that sounded almost amused "That's your problem, Kaz," you continued, your gaze far across the room, "You think love is a person's greatest weakness, when it's not like that"
"It is not?"
"No" you exclaimed with determination "I believe that... many times love is what keeps us alive. Struggling"
You were speaking for yourself when you said this. What was your motivation every day? In the past, the love for Kaz. Now, it was love for yourself and the hope that one day someone could love you with the intensity with which you loved others.
“I had already lost Jordie. I didn't want to lose you too,” he finally said and that's when your eyes locked with his. You never thought he would verbally express something like that.
“And did you prefer that I lose you?" you whispered in pain. You wanted him to be aware of things, because it seemed like it had never crossed his mind to stop thinking about your well-being and start thinking about your feelings. “You don't just lose someone when they die, Kaz. You can also lose those who are fully alive”
He didn't say anything, because he clearly didn't know what to answer to that, and while he reflected on your words, you caught a glimpse of a certain vulnerability in his blue eyes that you had rarely seen. I couldn't say that you knew the man in front of you better than anyone, but you had a considerable advantage thanks to the years you had lived with him.
“Okay, just… listen” you started to say, knowing he most likely wouldn't give you an answer “I know it's hard to live as we do— as all of us at The Barrel live, but the risks I decide or don't take. They are my decision, not yours. These years you have sought to keep me out of danger and I appreciate it, but you have to learn to trust me”
"I do. I trust you"
"Then show me," you replied. You couldn't help noticing that, even with his stained face, Kaz was still the most handsome man you'd ever seen “Friends do not avoid each other, nor do they move away and despite that, during all these years I have trusted you as from the first moment we were left alone”
You didn't know if you were saying the right thing, but at least you were saying something.
"And if it's too late?"
It was too late? Kaz wondered. He wondered if it was too late to open up to someone, to try to get over his trauma, to let go and finally love you the way he wanted to.
But all this remained as a thought, phrases that couldn’t leave his throat.
“It's not for me,” you assured him. “But my patience won't last forever. I think you should know that”
You couldn't even imagine how many emotions Kaz was trying to process at that moment, but even he himself didn't understand what a mess you'd made of him with that conversation. From his perception, he had admitted that he loved you, but from his eyes, you didn't seem affected by it. And you, contrary to what he thought, felt like you were going to faint.
You were about to leave, for the second time, but he spoke:
“Stay,” he said, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. “I don't know what to say, but… just stay here. I don't want us to be alone tonight”
Us. That fucking habit of Kaz's to speak in the plural and make you a nervous wreck.
You looked at the bed and found that it was too small for both of you, to which we had to add his refusal to be close to others. Proof of this was the unconscious movement of sticking your hands as close as possible to his body during the entire time you were talking.
"Use the bed, obviously you need it more than me" you muttered and went directly to the armchair. Fortunately your first impression wasn’t wrong, it was very comfortable.
The room was so small that the apparent distance between the pieces of furniture didn't mean much, so when he sat on the bed you could see him perfectly.
The memory of one of the times when both of you were in similar situations came to your mind. That night you had been woken by frightened screams from the next room, in that abandoned house where you and Kaz found shelter, forcing you out of bed to investigate.
It was hard to comfort a person without physically touching them, especially when he had nightmares, and over the months you'd had to get used to it. The boy hated waking you up, it made him feel guilty and stupid, but you always kept him company. You never spoke, never asked questions, you just stayed there so he knew he wasn't alone.
Maybe something like that was what Kaz needed tonight. 
"Rest" you exclaimed. His head turned to look at you and you detected a different and special glow in his eyes; as if it were a mixture of fear, softness, and gentleness. You appreciated that look for a few more seconds, which you feared you would never see again in your life, and then you reached out your hand to turn off the light on the desk.
Silence reigned in the darkness.
You settled in the chair, trying to figure out what would be the best sleeping position, and at the same time you heard Kaz slide between the sheets on the bed. After a while, your eyelids felt heavy, a consequence of the fatigue that the hustle and bustle of the day had left you, and when you were about to fall asleep, a voice pulled you out of your reverie.
"Thank you. For everything”
The phrase was a whisper, a delicate caress in your ear, but you understood it clearly. And you decided to think that when Kaz said 'for everything' he meant literally everything you had selflessly done for him during his life; like he just realized you were important. But it's not that he had just noticed it, but that he had just accepted it.
You wanted to stretch out the moment as long as you could because, even if you weren't looking at him, you knew he was awake thanks to the sound of his breathing, but at some point sleep overcame you and you fell fast asleep.
Kaz had nightmares that night, like always, but the difference was that when he woke up in shock in the morning, you were in the same room. So seeing you there, keeping him company, was reason enough to calm him down.
And like every time this had happened, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.
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vampmorgue · 7 months
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𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨 𝐔𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭
𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
series masterlist
Chapter 1: Promises
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📖 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:
𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.
𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 red 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐬 purple.
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⚠ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: 18+, afab reader, kook!reader, toxic!rafe, dark!rafe, ghostface!rafe, dark themes, toxic relationship, mentions of addiction, manipulation, jealousy, guilt tripping, love bombing, anxiety mention, profanity, [ smut: unprotected piv, dry humping, oral fem receiving, fingering, edging, slight face fucking?, handjob, missionary, cowgirl, overstim, praise, breeding & choking kink ] mentions of blood, slight gore, knife use, murder & death.
📑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.7k
🦇 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: it’s here!!! it’s also the way i was supposed to post this in the summer but then got unmotivated then got back on it and it’s perfect for the season now, happy october! anyway i’m so excited about this mini-series as i have loved the scream franchise for years so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it. (this is also my first attempt at writing smut and actually posting it, but we all start somewhere so hopefully it’s decent.) let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist !
💌 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @assi-me-issa @darkscrossfire @mounthings
©𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃: 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩/𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞.
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Ever since you got accepted into your dream university on the West Coast, you had a weight lifted off your shoulders, at least a little bit of it.
Your family and friends were all happy and excited for you to achieve your dreams that were coming true, except your boyfriend, Rafe who didn't seem too fond of it even if he said he was. There was only a month left until you had to leave for university, and it's been recently that you thought of breaking up with Rafe. As fucked up as you felt it was, you had your reasoning.
Before issues started, Rafe had given you a promise ring after you graduated high school, and you did see yourself with him as everything seemed so beautiful at the time if you put aside the bad parts beginning to worsen as you and Rafe had spent the entire summertime together meaning you had little time to yourself. Your reasoning for breaking up with him other than a long-distance relationship; Rafe's addiction was worsening then after a couple of tries of helping him was a fail and him treating you worse than ever, and your intuition was feeling weirder every day, you started questioning yourself if you wanted to be with someone like that, but when you took time to yourself while Rafe was away for a little while on vacation with his family, you discovered yourself more and needed to put yourself and dreams first. You couldn’t let anything get in the way of that just like Rafe and his problems were starting to affect it by distracting you. He had graduated a year before you, so you would’ve assumed he had his life figured out already, especially with the kind of father Rafe has, but he didn’t.
You told Rafe to come over as you wanted to tell him in person how you felt. He agreed to it since he wanted to spend more time with you before you left, even though he hated thinking about it, despising it even. Rafe never expected you to leave him, although it was a fear he had.
“Why did you start to think that us parting ways is the best idea?!” Rafe asks you with offense in his tone.
“Because it is!” you protest, “It’s always been my dream to go to school on the West Coast, and I want to focus on that— my career, everything!”
“We can make it work!” Rafe insists, “I can’t believe you want to throw away three years just like that?”
“That was never my plan, Rafe.” you say, “But as the day gets closer… I can’t see us together. You refuse any help on your addiction which is getting worse, and you know that. We’re both going on two completely different paths. We wouldn’t work— most long-distance relationships don't work."
“This is fucking bullshit,” Rafe mutters to himself, slamming your bedroom door shut and leaving your home.
This wasn’t over, even the relationship, and you knew you two would have to talk again, but you didn’t know when. You sigh as you sit on your bed running your fingers through your hair. A part of you felt awful and guilty, and the other part felt relieved to say how you felt toward him; it was like the knot in your stomach was finally detangled, but not completely.
Arguing with Rafe was exhausting enough, no matter how much you had tried giving out you're reasoning in whatever you two would go on about, but your boyfriend always had to have his way.
𖤓
The next night, to your surprise, he had called you first, but Rafe usually held in a grudge for more than a day, so you wondered what had changed if any change at all.
“Hey,” Rafe says through the phone.
“Hi, Rafe,”
“Listen I... I’m sorry about yesterday,” he apologizes, “I just think you haven’t thought it through enough… I love you, Y/N.”
You felt sorry not only for yourself but for him, too. Your gut telling you one thing, but your heart was telling you another. You started to fidget with your promise ring, but you couldn’t take it off nor return it, and it’s not like Rafe would accept the ring back because he wouldn’t and more than likely would never, and a cloud of confusion was surrounding you. Maybe giving him a chance couldn’t seem to hurt you as much as you thought it could.
“Just come over so we can talk things out,” you respond, rubbing the side of your temple.
And with that, Rafe didn’t hesitate and was over within ten minutes. You had texted him to let him know that the front door of your home was unlocked and to head over to your room.
You heard footsteps approaching and saw the door opening with Rafe behind it with slightly red eyes and dilated pupils. Perhaps he was crying as your initial thought while also in denial that he was high, but you were afraid to ask as you wanted the night to end up good and both sides happy and not lose sleep due to your boyfriend's issues. Anxiety was running through you as it made you feel sick to your stomach.
“Look, I’m sorry about last night,” he continues, “I-I shouldn’t have walked out like that, but I also should’ve listened to how you felt.”
“Yes, you should’ve, Rafe.” you express, crossing your arms.
“Y/N, I’m just worried, okay?!” Rafe gestures with his hands.
“About what?”
“You,”
“What about me?”
He sighs as he’s already frustrated with the conversation, “Your safety… you’re on the other side of the country. How will I know you’ll be okay at all times? I can barely even visit you on top of that— it’s just messing with me, okay? I-I don’t know how I’m supposed to cope with this. I need you to tell me how to cope."
“You’re proving my point exactly.” you imply, playing with your ring, “I knew you wouldn’t take it well, and I’d rather you focus on yourself, especially on how much pressure your father is putting on you about the business.”
“Hey! I didn’t come here to talk about that, alright?” he snaps quickly but stops himself from getting even more angry. “Sorry, bad habit…”
“So I’ve seen,” you nod, taking a step closer to him, “But this is both of our futures we’re talking about.”
“I got mine figured out.” he shrugs in denial, “I just need you to figure out yours, that’s all.”
You chuckle in disbelief, “I’ve already told you mine, Rafe. I suggest you listen to your own advice like do you even hear yourself right now?”
"Y/N, I can't imagine my life without you when you play such a big part in it." Rafe vents, “How are you going to be okay there all alone?”
“I can take care of myself just fine, but I won’t be alone,” you mention, “My best friend, Axel got accepted there, too, remember?”
His eyes narrowed at the name you had just mentioned. "Yeah, I remember." He didn’t like that.
Rafe had always shown jealousy towards your best friend, Axel, ever since you two started dating. It wasn’t much of a problem until Rafe had spammed you with calls and texts then confrontations in the end when you were out with Axel more than you had planned to.
He felt as if he were to lose you to someone or something then he knew a part of him would die. He couldn’t bear the thought, even just living in the reality of it and his worst nightmare seeming to come true.
"Please, just give us a chance. I want to make this work out for the both of us," he begs, taking your hands with his and rubbing the ring.
“I’ve given you chances before!” you acknowledge.
“But this time is different! I promise!” he pleads with desperation written all over his eyes.
"And you’ve made promises before that weren’t kept!” you exclaim, pulling your hands away from his.
You felt stuck in the situation. You wanted to cry out of the stress and frustration because it felt like choosing between Rafe and your future, but was Rafe a part of your future or not?
“I won’t break another this time, I promise.” he went on, “This is going to be different, okay? I never want us to be apart…”
His words made you feel a little uneasy, but you didn’t know what to do at this point.
“Let me think about it, please,” you insist, wanting to be left alone in your thoughts, “Just go home and get some rest.”
He nods but then hesitates to leave, “Can I at least show you that I do love you?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you agree to it anyway, “Yeah… sure,”
Rafe grabs your waist and pulls you into a kiss to show you that he’s missed this and you especially. After the tension near the end of summer, you and Rafe weren’t as intimate with each other as you both were before, except now everything was slowly coming back as it once was. You kiss back, and you’re surprised at yourself but mostly content.
He lays you onto your bed slowly as he goes down your neck with kisses and marks you. One thing about Rafe is that he was always going to make sure the hickeys were always visible. He tugs off the end of your shirt and looks at you for permission, and you nod, but he needs you to say it.
“I need to hear you say it, baby,”
“Yes, go on,” you answer.
Rafe lifts your shirt off as you take his off too and reveals that you’re not wearing a bra, no complaints though, he loves it. “Fuck, you’re so perfect,” his eyes scan you and his hand travels to your breast, squeezing one as he marks the other making you whine. He was still on top of you and went back to kissing your lips, caressing your neck slightly, and gripping it while grinding himself on you as you felt him getting hard through his clothing. Rafe was eager, but so were you. Perhaps you were missing the feeling of being wanted by the other, maybe it was driving you into that stressful mindset earlier, and maybe you just needed to get fucked; it has been a while.
His arousal was turning you on even more, but you already wanted and needed more of him. “Please… I need you, Rafe.”
“I’m all yours,” he assures while getting up and pulling down your shorts and lowering his head, giving kisses to your inner thighs. He wraps his arms around your thighs and goes down on you with his tongue swirling around your clit and sucking harshly. Two of his fingers enter inside your folds, going in and out at a slow pace only to tease you while his cold rings add to the sensation. “Go faster,” you say.
Rafe does as you say while he devours you as if he is craving you, which he is. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, arching your back as you grind against his mouth. He smirks at the look of your satisfaction. He continues while his other hand travels to your breast, squeezing it, and you lay your hand upon him while you run your fingers through his hair on the other.
A vibration was going through your body as you felt your climax reaching, “I’m close,” you mention and Rafe stops, “Why’d you stop?” you question him with the disappointment that was clear in your voice.
“I’m not just stopping there.” he laughs softly as he unbuckles his belt.
“Wait,” you pause, “Do you have a condom?”
“If I knew this would happen, I would’ve,” he admits.
“Whatever, I’m on the pill, anyway.” you grab his face and pull him down to your level kissing him again and his tongue enters your mouth.
Rafe started stroking himself as he already was dripping with precum, but you take over by teasing him by palming the tip, and then stroking him as he’s massaging your swollen clit with his hand while you start stroking him faster to tease him back from earlier which caught him by surprise in a good way. “Aw, fuck, just like that,” he catches a glimpse of the way your acrylic nails looked so pretty as you’re stroking him, “I’m paying for your next set just so you know.” He pecks your lips.
“I need you… now.” you whine, and he quickly adjusts himself, “You ready?” he smirks.
“Yes,” you respond, wrapping your legs around his hips.
He starts slow at first so you can get used to it again and wait to give him the okay to go faster. “Tell me if it hurts, it's been a while,” he reassures, and you nod.
Rafe grips your hips as he thrusts in deeper and deeper, “Okay, go faster,” you confirm, and he fastens his pace making your body feel euphoric. His grip on you was so strong, but you were numb to it as the pleasure he was giving you was taking over. “H-harder!” you demand, moaning in his ear.
“Fuck!" he swears in between his moans and lets go of your left hip to put a grip on your neck slightly choking you and looks into your eyes. “God, if only you could see yourself right now, you look and feel so fucking amazing.”
Your smile in pleasure as you dig your nails, leaving scratch marks on his back from how fast and hard, he’s going. Rafe didn’t mind it though, it added to the fun, and it felt good to him as well.
“I-I wanna ride you,” you confess as you’re catching air and Rafe slows down. “Did you say you wanna ride-”
“Yes,” you confidently reply.
Rafe asks again, "Are you sure? You've never done that before, it might hurt."
"But I want to now," you reassure him, and he softly kisses you and happily switches positions with you to do so.
You forget how big he is as you're readjusting yourself until you're comfortable since it's different from your point of view then you ride him slowly to start. “You can take it. I know you can,” he grins.
Rafe squeezes your thighs and your hips then holds on there as you start going faster, he could’ve came right then and there but wanted you to do so first. In his world, you’ll always be his priority.
“Mhmm,” you moan with your eyes rolling back as you feel your g spot being hit perfectly making you moan again so loudly that you were so glad you had the house all to yourself tonight, “Holy fuck! You’re doing so good, beautiful, so good.” Rafe praises you and pulls you into a hug while you’re still riding him, he stuffs his face between your breasts with kisses traveling to your neck and sucking harshly creating more marks, and you’ll look bruised by the end of the night.
At this point, you start seeing stars and feel your high coming, “I’m close!” you cry out.
“So am I, you want me to fill you up, huh?” Rafe teases, “I’ll gladly do so, I’d do anything for you, I promise you that.”
You spill all over him as he fills you up right after which awakens something in you to keep going. Rafe is caught off guard, but it feels so good, “Awh, f-fuck,” he doesn’t want you to stop but his stamina is running out.
“You can take it,” you smile as you mimic the way he teased before and you take his hands to your breasts massaging them.
He whimpers at his overstimulation causing to you smirk, “Come on, I thought you said you wanted to fill me up? You can do it one more time for me, I know you can.” you tease, and once he hears that, he does as you both mentioned feeling the warmth spilling out.
“That was fucking amazing and so were you,” he says as you lay down next to him, catching your breath.
“Back at you,” you kiss him and he grabs to the tissues on your nightstand to get you cleaned up.
Rafe smiles and pulls the sheets up to you both to keep you from getting cold.
“I’m sorry about yesterday, too,” you add, “I guess a lot was going on, it added to the stress.”
“You don’t need to apologize, I’ll always be here when you need anything, even if it’s just my company. I promise.” Rafe reassures, pulling you into his arms.
“Thank you,” your eyes lighting up at him, “I love you, Rafe,”
“I love you more,” he kisses your forehead, “Get some sleep, it was a long night after all.”
You chuckle and close your eyes, feeling safe in his arms.
𝟏:𝟎𝟔 𝐀𝐌
Rafe woke up nearly forgetting where he was but smiled to himself when he saw you still silently asleep in his arms. He looks at the alarm clock on your nightstand and sees the time. It's not as late as he thought it was, but Rafe had a plan before coming over, and that was to get rid of someone or something that stands in the way of your relationship with him. The first one was your best friend, Axel.
It was the perfect night to do as your parents were on a trip with Axel's parents which meant he was also home alone. The adrenaline was rushing through Rafe as he quietly got out of bed trying not to wake you which wasn't much of a problem since you are a heavy sleeper. He gets dressed and makes sure to turn off his phone since he had no intention of bringing it with him and hides his phone in a dresser you have and makes sure to put it on the bottom with clothing on top of it to hide it.
Rafe nearly swears out loud when he remembers he can't go out the front door nor the back doors since your phone and your parent's devices get notifications of the doors opening and closing. Luckily for him, he snuck out through your bedroom window which is the same window you used to use to sneak out of. He successfully made it to his car and drove it down to the destination he needed to be at l, Axel's house.
Arriving at the house but far away enough to not be seen, Rafe remembered about the costume hidden in his trunk, he had a plan. It seemed silly at first to wear one, but he wasn't planning on getting caught, although the thought of recreating one of his favorite movies was exciting to him. Imagining the people, he hates suffering in agony had brought a type of satisfaction to him, but now there was no more imagining it; he was bringing it to life while a life pays for it to be seen by his very own eyes.
There Axel was peacefully painting a new art canvas. He was going to major in art, but why did it have to be the same university as you? That's what Rafe's problem was. His house was built with lots of those types of windows where anyone could easily see anything. Rafe had already put on the black cloak and the mask with a knife ready in his hand and hid where there were no windows then he pulled out a burner phone he had prepared with the voice changer to give Axel a call.
"Hello?"
"What's your favorite scary movie?"
"That's so original, isn't it?"
"If you wanna talk about something original, you're speaking to the original."
"Alright, listen, man, you got the wrong number. Nice impression though, bye–”
"If you hang up on me, I'll smear your own blood on that canvas you were painting!"
Axel's heart drops and looks around the windows outside, but he sees nothing except the pitch-black night.
Rafe laughs at the silence knowing Axel is scared for his life.
"What do you want from me?"
"I'm not asking for much only just your life."
Rafe sees he's next to the electrical panel and cuts the wires making all the power go off.
"Stop fucking with me, man! I'll call the cops."
"Oh, I don't they'd have enough time to get here, you do live in the middle of the woods." Rafe grabs a large heavy rock with his hand, "Besides, you'll be dead by the time they get here." 
Quickly, Rafe throws the rock to a window to distract Axel and runs to the other side where a door with a glass window that he needs to break to unlock the door.
Rafe succeeds in breaking into the house and hears Axel in another room swearing to himself.
"Shit, this can't be happening," Axel shakes as he tries to find something to defend himself with while Rafe is in the kitchen and throws a glass cup to the living across from him where he saw Axel painting earlier just to see if he'll move.
Axel tries to run out the front door but Rafe sneaks up behind by stabbing him in the back and then putting him in a chokehold before he starts stabbing his chest and stomach multiple times making Axel scream in agony, but he fights back throwing himself backward with Rafe to the wall of glass picture frames and making them both fall to the ground as glass shatters everywhere. Rafe quickly gets up and looks down at Axel who struggles to get up by slipping in his own pool of blood. Rafe kneels to him as he watches him suffer in his own agony and waves his knife around.
Rafe starts swinging his knife again but misses and slices the bloody canvas instead when Axel flips over his body to avoid the knife. This angers Rafe even more to which he wipes his knife with his gloves then stabs the knife onto a wooden table, and grabs Axel by the collar of his shirt making him face the mirror then grabs his knife again and points with it. "Take a good fucking look because this is the last thing you'll ever see before you die," Rafe scowls in his normal voice.
"R-Rafe?' Axel struggles to say before Rafe sliced his throat open and is left there to bleed to his death.
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the-iceni-bitch · 3 months
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𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝕮𝖑𝖆𝖞
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𝙾𝚛𝚌 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎.
𝙰𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜.
𝙰𝚕𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜.
Words: ~1.1k
Relationship: August Walker x princess!female reader
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (non-con, bondage, manhandling, cum marking), mean August, size difference, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!
A/N: I love a bad boy so much and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. If I’m going to hell, so be it.
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August grinned as he walked through the horde’s camp, holding the head of his conquered foe high and roaring before tossing it to one of his clansmen and instructing them to boil it so he could add the skull to his collection. His blood was still up from the battle, and there was only one thing on his mind. He took a mug of grog from someone before throwing aside the flap to his tent and striding inside.
“Little princess!” August threw his head back and howled with laughter when you flailed against your bindings as soon as you saw him, taking a swig of grog before setting the tankard down and starting to remove his leathers. “Did you miss me, little one?”
“Fuck you!” You spat at him when he reached out to demeaningly pat your cheek.
“That’s rude language from such a pretty princess,” This time he slapped you, licking his tusks lasciviously when you gasped and shuddered. “I’m assuming this means you’re still rejecting my proposal.”
“Of course I’m rejecting it!” You thrashed even more, determined to get free from your bindings even though you had no luck in your attempts during the past few weeks of your captivity. “I’ll never be the mate of a filthy, murdering orc bastard!”
“Tsk, how disappointing,” the way you were writhing and squirming against your bindings was making him hard, as it always did, and it only got better when you screamed furiously as he began to undo his breeches. “It’s not as though you have many options, princess. I just killed another one of those suitors of yours who thought he could rescue you. His skull is going to look rather fine hanging around my neck with those of the other failures.”
That made your already fraught emotions sink even lower, but you were determined not to let him see you cry. There were now four different prince’s and their armies who had tried to take you back from the horde after they had pillaged your family’s kingdom. Every single one of them was dead, along with their armies, and you didn’t know how many more would make the attempt now that so many had been killed. A sense of dread started to settle over you at that thought, but you refused to be defeated. So you just continued to struggle against the ropes that bound you, glaring at him and ignoring the way your eyes stung with unshed tears.
“I fucking hate you,” you kept your eyes fixed on his face while he pulled out his massive cock and started to stroke it over your restrained body. “You’re disgusting and I’ll never be yours.”
“Your stubbornness only makes the fact that you’ll eventually break all the more delicious,” August snorted when you jerked away from him as he gave your head a condescending pat, slapping you instead as his fist kept moving over his cock. “You have no other choice, princess. I’m going to have you no matter what, it will go easier for you if you submit willingly.”
You just snarled at him, tired of telling him to fuck himself and deciding to just try to ignore him instead. It was difficult, though, especially when he gripped your face and forced you to watch as he stroked his cock over your squirming body. The worst thing was that you were getting wet as you kept struggling, and he could tell, a wicked grin spreading across his face when his precum started to drip on your already soiled gown.
August just grunted with annoyance when you pouted and closed your eyes, rolling his own before taking his hand off your face so he could yank at the ropes binding you until they were flung over one of the tent beams so you were suspended in midair.
“Stop, what are you doing?!” You shrieked when he shredded your gown so it fell off you in tatters and left you naked as you dangled in front of him. “You bastard! Put me down!”
“Always fucking complaining. You’re lucky I don’t decide to shut you up by skullfucking you, princess,” he chuckled when that made you finally fall silent as your eyes lit up with terror. “Don’t look so scared, like you don’t enjoy everything I do to you. Remember how messy you got when I broke you in?”
“Shut up… stop it!” You thrashed wildly when he shot his thick cum all over your stomach and thighs, screaming when he grabbed one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder so you were spread wide open for him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”
He ignored you, smearing his fingers through the thick mess he’d left all over before reaching between your legs so he could rub his seed all over your swollen pussy. His first smack caught you completely off guard, making you wail when his hand cracked against your quivering folds so hard you almost blacked out. But then he leaned down and kissed you and you were brought back to consciousness against your will, gagging at the taste of grog on his tongue while his hand started slapping your cunt over and over again.
His treatment was brutal, it always was, but still your body responded to him. You cried and choked on his tongue as his fingers struck your pussy at a brutal pace, hating that each time he smacked your sensitive flesh you gushed juices all over his hand and trembled from barely controlling your climax. You held out longer than you would have thought you’d be able to, but after twenty minutes there was nothing you could do. August grinned and spat into your mouth when you sobbed as you squirted everywhere, rubbing your raw and sore folds viciously while you spasmed through your climax. As soon as you were done he released his hold on the ropes and let you drop to the floor, laying on his bed of furs and picking up his tankard of grog again as he watched you whimper and squirm.
“When are you gonna admit how much you enjoy this shit, princess?” August nudged you with his foot to turn you over and chuckled when you whined. “If you can handle this you should be able to actually survive carrying my baby. Of course you will be much more comfortable if you’re not bound and restricted during your pregnancy. So why don’t you take the night to think about how much better your life will be if you actually accept a role as my mate instead of just a brood mare.”
You sobbed when he rose to his feet and pulled his breeches back on, leaving you alone in his tent to consider just how miserable you wanted your future to be.
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wishluc · 2 months
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Courtship
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CW: Yandere character, obsession, power imbalance, implied murder, implied stalking
PAIRING: Yandere! Childe x GN! Reader
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Childe, who is desperate to earn your affection, but is unsure of how to go about it. He's fought for all the things he loves; his family, his nation, his name—yet when he raises his weapon against a bumbling fool that dared to glance at you for a moment too long, you frown and his moniker falls from your lips as a harsh, curt order.
"Master Childe," your voice is as cold as your inconsideration to his intentions, but he steps back at once, as though your utterance of his title is akin to a harsh tug on a tightly clamped leash.
He earns a familiar look of displeasure when he reaches out for his dagger, and you hide your scowl with a stiff smile when interrupting his threats against his helpless victim. You swiftly enter his line of sight and render him unable to defy, and he wonders just when you'd realize why he was doing this.
But in the next moment, he's all over you again. Smiling, teasing, his arm around you as he continues his previous story about Teucer's latest interests without missing a beat. You don't pretend to humor him for a moment longer—all under a ridiculous pretence of what you call professionalism—and he's left alone, humiliated yet entirely concerned that you'd never spare a glance his way again.
Though your rejection stings, he's persistent, and the unassuming smile on his face does not falter. He continues to try and entice you with sweet whispers and cloying words, letting his hands linger on your waist as he tells you about how much he misses you. He leans in closer when you smile back—the gesture barely perceptible to anyone else, but Childe is extremely observant— only to be stopped by your hand atop his.
"It's getting late, Master Childe. I should be heading back now," and your smile grows, radiant against the aureate light.
"Dinner first, then?"
"I prefer to spend the evenings alone."
"Let me accompany you home, at least." Your lips press into a thin line before you nod, letting him lead the way. There was no point in pretending to be unaware of how much he already knew about you.
Your conversation has onlookers whispering amongst themselves, no doubt curious to catch a glimpse of the infamous Fatuus, before scurrying off as he turns, frantically avoiding his gaze. To anyone else, the scene must have appeared to be humiliating. Perhaps they expected him to lose his temper; to strike down an unsuspecting passerby or two in an attempt at unloading some of his growing frustration. To make an example. But he does none of that.
He's no saint, of course. Disappointment swells within him, and he has had to bite back a frown more than once during your meeting. He's only better at hiding it than you. Your upfrontness leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but it's still part of the reason he finds you so fascinating. Maybe you already know this. But you're a clever thing, despite how foolish it may be to try and provoke him. You know when to stop—right before he's completely sick of your disrespect, just as his frustration begins to peak—and reel in the demeanor to something less jarring. You're wholly aware of how cruel he can be, but also of how much power you hold over him as a result of his twisted love.
As he walks on in front of you (never too far ahead, lest the leash begin to slip from your grip), mouth set in a straight line and arms stiff by his sides, you saunter up beside him and fall into step. His hand finds its place in yours, and you take it without voicing out any complaint. It's strange for someone like him, who only knows how to want like he fights, intense and uninhibited—to be satisfied with just this simple gesture. But he stands here, placated with nothing more than a touch.
He ignores any hesitation on your part, tugging you closer until you jolt against him, and your joined hands are pressed in between your figures. He keeps you close to his side, occasionally bumping into each other as you make your way home.
It would be nice if you were so sensible more often. He has offered time and time again to take care of things in your stead. He'd eagerly bring you the head of your enemies and let you wash the blood off his hands, he'd spoil you in luxury and take only a smile in thanks; if only you wanted. Instead, you turn your nose up at him and return to the monotony of work. You brazenly claim, with nothing more than a sideway glance, that you had no need for his help. And to a certain extent, it's true. You're extremely capable. Is the way he trails after you not proof enough?
He's tried to convince you, but limp fingers cleanly removed and blood-red pearls earn him nothing more than a sigh and a mutter about impracticality. Even your initial fear at the sight of something so gruesome is quickly straightened out, though he catches wind about you investigating who they belonged to. He eagerly observes how you stop frequenting the markets after that. He may not have earned your gratitude, but you had developed a wariness he was more than happy with.
It's the last he attempts at gifting you something so morbid—though he likes to remind you that the offer will always be open—and instead sticks to trinkets you may find more use for. Rouge that he insists on applying, pressed up too close all while crooning about how well it suits you, perfumed oil he massages onto your wrists and nape with calloused fingers and delicate glass bowls to hold it all. He finds pride in knowing all his training has made his hands steady enough to carry out such intricate tasks, but your heart hasn't wavered despite his efforts and displays.
The silence, in itself, is comforting. For all he wishes to have you alone, he never knows what to say after. He thinks of nothing as much as he does you these days. Everything revolves around you. But with the quiet atmosphere, he can focus on your subtle scent, the flutter of your lashes, and the shape of your nails. If you were to be speaking, trying to remember the lilt of your voice and the underlying timbre, apart from your words and gestures, would have overwhelmed him. His desire to commit every detail to memory combined with his overzealousness would have exhausted him very quickly.
Instead, he lets himself plan. How else could he draw out more time with you? He could conjure up some reason related to your work and his, or he could stick to his usual plan of 'happening' to be around. He could insist on buying you a meal to make up for something or the other. It wouldn't be the first time he's had to think of elaborate plots to inch closer to you. Strategy in both love and war were surprisingly similar.
Or he could stop thinking so much and just take you. Who would dare try and stop him?
He'd like to have you in his arms, properly, and hold you against his firm figure. Some part of him has always craved the domesticity of such a fantasy, where you might tuck your head under his chin and smile against his skin when he greets you after a long day at work. He could do it if he wanted; take you home, and make you play pretend until it was all you knew to do. Simple signs of affection of the sort might soothe the ache of the wound festering at his side ever since he was handed over to the Fatui. But he wanted more than he deserved. More than your foolish games and his moribund attempts at playing along.
He wanted—needed—sincerity on your part.
Your steps hasten the closer he gets to your lodging, the gap between you widening until only your conjoined hands bridge it. Were you acting without regard for the consequences because you naively believed this little corner was free from his influence?
But tonight, his heart twists as you walk away. How cruel you are to him; who can only yearn.
You peek over your shoulder, mouth set in the slightest downturn as you thank him for escorting you. There's nothing genuine behind your tone, and he pretends it doesn't sting. He's spared nothing more than a blunt goodbye before you enter the building, not even glancing back.
There's always tomorrow. He'd work harder, learn more about your likes and one day...things would change.
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Platonic Yandere Naga Todoroki family
(This was a long time coming. This is completely disconnected from the Mythical Forest au btw)
Warning: Mentions of stalking, violence and Yandere behavior.
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-These guys are extremely feared by villagers and tourists alike, Enji had gathered quite the reputation for being a massive asshole. A violent asshole to be exact.
-Rei and her children are far more merciful and generous, helping out lost people and giving them directions.
-Except Dabi, he’s just a smug bastard who will probably lead you into crocodile invested waters for shits and giggles.
-You were the child of infamous explorers, whom have decided to explore the Todorokis’ forests.
-It was Shoto who discovered you first, watching you from the trees once he got wind that there were humans around.
-He ended up saving your life because a jaguar attempted to attack you.
-You were a little freaked out by the fact that a creature like Shoto existed but you became chill around him.
-Shoto then decided to tell his family about you. Enji was going through his redemption process as no one was tolerating him anymore. (Dabi tried suffocating him-)
-So now you have a snek family stalking you.
-Rei is just instantly in love with you, you’re just so adorable to her.
-Fuyumi leaves you little things that kids your age might like. I.E little hand woven dolls, books she had picked up from abandoned structures.
-Shoto and Natsou keep you safe from threats. Hanging out in trees in the late night hours.
-Enji stays at the den, as his kids are like: My dude, thin fucking ice.
-Dabi occasionally hangs out with his brothers on night shift but other than that, he’s fucking with crew.
-Casually depositing venom into a crew member’s water, breaking someone’s ankle.
-You are currently quite content with everything, especially with the all the little gifts and occasional visits from your friend Shoto.
-Until they fully raid your camp. Enji and Dabi handle everything whilst the rest of the family get you.
-Understandably, you’re quite upset about your family possibly being murdered and being abducted by snake people.
-Rei and Fuyumi are utterly upset with your crying and screaming, Shoto feels especially bad.
-Once you get comfortable in the den, everyone is satisfied. They have obtained their hatchling!
-Rei is obsessed with you, doing your hair, snuggling you. You’re her baby! She especially loves it when you willingly snuggle with her.
-Fuyumi teaches you essential skills about surviving and how to function. She’s really gentle but can get a little bit overwhelming. She’s wary around the idea of you potentially flocking together with human kind.
-It took a while for you and Shoto to rebuild trust, he was genuinely sorry. He’s loving and gentle with you but a bit clingy. He can’t stand the idea of humans reclaiming you.
-Natsou is probably the most chill and level headed of the family. He’s patient and scolded everyone for being overwhelming. He handles your health stuff, making sure you don’t die. Natsou can’t stand you being around Enji, given how Enji is a violent asshole.
-Dabi is a strange guy, he lurks around the den, just eyeing you with an indescribable gaze. He scares You honestly, especially since he’s the most trigger happy of the clan. He’s gentle with you, snuggling you whenever he wants. He’s not afraid to make his disdain for Enji and Shoto clear, giving a nasty hiss towards them. Don’t run off when he’s around, just don’t.
-Enji is probably the most gentle with you, but wary. He knows that he’s on thin ice around his family and will probably get turned into a hashtag by his sons if he fucks up. He uses his tail as a weighted blanket for you tho.
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@thecuriousquest
@messedupcookiejar
@bongo020405
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Note
*TW*
Hello!!! I absolutely love platonic yanderes with teenage reader so can I ask for a fic where the teen!reader is basically a traumatized being. They have experienced hell throughout their life from mental abuse to physical abuse. Like I mean, they have gotten in many dangerous situations which ended up with police involved (kidnapped, assaulted, murder attempt). Ofc the reader never really did anything wrong, they were just an innocent child till everything went downhill. They don't have any family members left leading them to stay at an orphanage. Anddd you could say the orphanage people aren't the nicest. And their mental health has become so fucked up that they had attempted suicide.
You don't have to do this if ur uncomfortable ofc. Sorry about how triggering the request might be
On the roof
Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Cast x GN! Teen! Traumatized! Reader
Description: You are on the rooftop in the middle of the night.
Trigger warning: Suicide attempt. Abuse. Child abuse. Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted murder.
List of Suicide hotline numbers can be found here and here.
Warning: One swear word. English is my second language.
__________________________________
You silently opened the door, that leads to the roof of an orphanage. With your phone in hand, you take a few steps forward.
The door closed behind you.
You just stand here. You were silent.
You were here. You wanted to end this.
You sighed and looked around.
Should you just... Go to the edge and jump? It's not like someone would care about you.
You didn't bother with the last note.
No one would care about the reason.
You will simply become a name in documents.
You just wanted to be heard.
You mindlessly looked at your phone.
Should you take it with you?
Or left it here, so someone else would use it?
Your gaze stopped at the "BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan" icon. Will the new owner delete it? Or will continue your progress?
You tapped on the icon. You didn't leave a note.
Yet, you "talked" to BSD Characters so often, that it seems right, to let them hear your last words.
Your reasons.
You opened the Main Menu and choose 'Meeting Hall' option.
The picture of ADA Office appeared. And Chibis of all BSD Characters appeared.
This new option was cute. You liked petting chibis.
All chibis 'looked' at you.
And you finally spoke.
"Mom was strange..."
________
Your mom was strange.
She smelled funny. Like water everyone told you not to drink.
Sometimes, she stared at you. Stared for a long time.
And there were rules.
1. Don't cry.
2. Don't annoy mom.
3. You eat last.
4. If you stayed past curfew, you will sleep outside.
5. Don't tell anyone about your home life.
At least, she let you play outside as much as you want. Mom liked, when you were away from home.
*******
You were five, when you got kidnapped.
That night, you wake up to get some water.
Mom saw you.
In her eyes, you broke a rule.
You were sleeping outside.
One moment you were trying to get comfortable under the porch.
Next moment a man in a mask was dragging you in a van.
Three days.
You were in a dark, scary place for three days.
On a third day you heard two men talking.
"What do you mean, that mother didn't realize, that kid were missing?!"
_____
"Still... Mom paid the ransom. Kidnappers left me. It takes three more days for police to find me..."
____
You were standing near a police officer. And your mom finally arrived to the police station to collect you.
You walked to her, your head was low.
She hit you.
You screamed.
You collapsed on the floor, and your mother bent over you. She hissed and pushed you in the side with her feet.
"Are you satisfied, brat? Get up and go pack your belongings, we’re moving to a shed."
"You should treat your kid more kindly..." the officer grumbled. Your mother squealed.
"Kindly?! This brat had ruined my whole life!” Your mom was mad. She screamed like a fury, jumped in place and gave cowering you blow after blow. You didn’t try to dodge. You just trembled, curled up into a ball.
"Hubby ran away as soon as he gets it inside me! But dear relatives didn’t let me throw it away. They didn’t let me give it to an orphanage! They said that I need to raise this child! They stood up for a little bastard! But now, when I need to pay debt, they are nowhere to be found! They say I play cards too much! I'm just unlucky! Things are not going my way! The house is mortgaged! I poured all my savings into the last card game and won! I would pay off all my debts! And because of this thing, I now have to live in a shed! What will I tell my family now?! What will others say about me?!"
Officer heard enough.
The CPS were called.
_______
"... They were trying to find my father... Until then, grandmother and grandfather agreed to took me in..."
_______
You were six.
Your grandfather sat on the opposite side of the table.
Your textbook and notebook were laying on the table before you.
And your grandfather was talking.
"I finished checking your homework. As I expected, you are a little idiot. A stupid, worthless waste of space. You have made few stupid mistakes. You wrote numbers in a wrong order.
Grandfather opened your notebook. A red paste was covering the page.
2 + 1 = 3 1 + 2 = 3
3 + 1 = 4. 1 + 3 = 4
"So..." Grandfather take a ruler.
"Give me your hand. It will be ten hits for every wrong number."
________
"...it took two year to find my father. He had a family. And I... I was a child from affair. They never let me live it down... For years"
_______
You were nine.
The blow, when it came, took all of your air out of your lungs. You would have fallen if not for your two... "siblings" holding you.
"It feels good, giving a good beating to a dirtbag, right?"
The next hit was in your left eye. You managed to close it in time.
But it will be swollen.
You felt hot breath on your face.
"Your hair is too good for a bastard child."
Your sister brought the scissors up to your hair.
Snip, snip, snip. Cutting right alongside the scalp, sending your hair like leaves swirling to the ground.
Then scissors were plunged into your stomach.
"Die, child of a dirty whore."
______
"...Police was called. They were arrested. But I remained with father and his wife..."
_____
You were twelve.
You were going food shopping. Big bags were heavy, you were tried.
You still need to clean up the house and make dinner.
When you were attacked, because someone tied to rob you, you didn't even care.
You only knew, that, you will be beaten again for being late. And for losing food.
You were long past gone. There were no point in carrying about yourself.
~~~~~~
You were thirteen.
Your father, his wife and you were going to the funeral.
Your father's uncle died.
Now he only has his wife and kids. And you.
He noticed your gaze in a reflection.
He yelled at you for staring.
And he crashed.
You spent three hours in a broken car.
You were the only survivor.
_______
"... I was sent to an orphanage. I am too old to have any chance to be adopted. And I wasn't the only one, who had no chance to have a family..."
______
You tasted dirt and blood. An old rug was thrown over your head, to make it harder for you to fight back.
Someone pressed a knee on the back of your neck and held your face against the ground.
A kick in the side made you roll on your back.
Another person began to push down on your neck with an arm.
You began to struggle, thrashing about with your legs and beating them against the floor, but it was no good.
There were other kids around—at least a dozen of them. One of them would do something. One of them was sure to see that things were taking too far. Your vision began to go fuzzy.
Caretakers saved you only because the noise didn't let them watch TV.
________
"I couldn't take it anymore. I... thank you... Thank you for making me happy... For being the only happy thing in my life."
You finished talking and put your phone on the ground. You stand up and walked towards the edge.
You heard a loud noise. You turned around.
BSD Characters were standing behind you. Real.
And you were still standing near the edge. You were silent. Nikolai lift his overcoat and put his hand into the portal.
His head reappeared near you. You jumped away. Now you were even closer to the edge.
"No... I... I don't want to... Don't come closer..." whispered you. You took another step. You were almost here.
"[Y/N], if you go back, I will give you a hug!"
You froze and turned around.
Kenji Miyazawa made a step forward. He opened his arms, offering a hug.
"I promise, I will give you a hug. Come here... You really need a hug."
You trembled. You moved towards Kenji.
Step. After step. After step.
Kenji was standing here. Offering a hug.
You launched yourself forward, wrapping your arms around Kenji. He immediately hugged you back.
You cried. For the first time in years.
In a few minutes, you were in a middle of a large group hug.
________
You are fifteen.
You are living with your family.
You still have a long path to recovery.
And you are not alone.
BSD Cast will stay with you.
And will make sure, that you will never be hurt again.
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klausysworld · 10 months
Note
could you please do a klaus oneshot where the reader is a siren/mermaid?
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Treasure digging
When Hayley got pregnant by Klaus and moved in with his family, she wasn’t alone. Instead she brought along a friend. One who didn’t say much, she kept to herself and supported Hayley through everything no matter the turn out. The few times she spoke to Klaus is was either because it was on someone else’s behalf or because it was only him to talk to.
He didn’t mind much, he was rather glad he didn’t have another person throwing their personal views at him every second of the day.
Plus whenever they did have their small talk sessions she was never directly rude to him. She avoided any cruel things he had done either recently or in the past and asked him minor questions, like how he was finding the new paint brand he had purchased.
He didn’t really know anything about her, none of the Mikaelsons did and none of them really noticed or cared. She didn’t pose as a threat so they weren’t interested.
Of course until it clicked in Klaus’ mind and he realised he didn’t even know how she and Hayley met. So when they next spoke, he decided to ask
“Foster system” she answered plainly but he frowned, he could tell she was lying just by her tone.
“In a group home?” He questioned further
“Mhm group home”
“How old?”
“I dunno like 14” she mumbled
“Strange wasn’t Hayley on the streets after breaking her curse and being thrown out?” He pressed with his eyes narrowed on Y/n.
She glanced back up at him “why the sudden interest?” She asked
“Why the obvious lies?”
They both stared at each other for a moment before the front door closed and she got up to go see Hayley who had returned with a small hope in her arms.
And from that day, Klaus wanted to know more.
“What’s your last name love?” He asks once and he saw her frown briefly
“Delphia, why?”
“That means dolphin doesn’t it? How peculiar” he muttered and she furrowed her brows
“Is it?” She breathed to herself making him smirk a little to himself, knowing he was getting at her.
Then when he came across Y/n and Hayley whispering about something with the kitchen tap running, he knew there was some sort of secret he needed to find.
And when he had his mind set on something he always seemed to get it. Hayley and Y/n knew this and so knew that they needed to be careful. So they made a cautious trip to a powerful witch, that Y/n had befriended years before, and made sure her shell necklace was fully powered. The necklace meant that Y/n could touch and be in water without any worry.
Klaus had noticed the necklace before, seen it on Y/n’s neck and on her bedside table when she was in the bath. Sentimental meaning he assumed it was, as she didn’t appreciate people touching it including Hayley and Hope which was odd to see.
So because he was who he was, he decided to try and steal it. But it wasn’t an easy task.
“That’s a pretty necklace love, where’s it from?” He asked while reaching forward to touch it only to have his hand smacked rather harshly and to be glared like he had murdered her family. “Easy love, it’s just a piece of jewellery though it is quite the charm, shells and pearls hm?” But each time he went to get any closer she got closer to tearing his throat out and he could see it in her eyes. She ended up shoving him away and hurrying off leaving him thoroughly confused and all the more intrigued.
And after a lot of failed attempts, he was able to slip it off her while she slept. And the second he touched it, he felt the heavy amount of magic that flowed through it.
“What in the world…” he whispered though soon hushed himself when she stirred in her sleep. He froze from where he stood over her bed and held his breath as her eyes briefly opened and her head raised slightly, she looked at him for a moment before groaning softly and hitting her head against the pillow to fall back asleep. He sighed quietly and carefully clipped the necklace back around her neck, being sure to gently move her hair out of the way and put it back after.
He closed her door quietly and immediately began researching.
It took far longer than expected and also took him digging further into her past, finding out how she truly met Hayley and how they ended up where they were before they got here.
And when he found out the ultimate secret, he was beyond shocked. And skeptical so he had to be sure. He needed to test his theory.
Klaus had only been in Y/n’s room very few times, the necklace incident included and so when he went in, he wasn’t too sure what he was looking for.
He had opened and gone through every drawer and shelf, looking for anything that would confirm or deny the theory of her being a mermaid. He had almost given up until something shiny caught his eye from under her bed. The girls (Hayley, Y/n, Rebekah, Davina and Hope) had all gone out for the day and he had cleared his afternoon specifically for this. So finding something was making his efforts worth it.
He pushed her bed aside and frowned when he dug through the boxes and found nothing. It resulted in him getting angry and slamming his fist down against the floorboards only for it to spring up under the force instead of break/dent.
His brows flew up in surprise as he pulled another piece of wood away to find a box underneath. He could feel a smile tugging at his lips as he pulled the lid back and looked inside. His lips parted in wonder at the array of treasures inside. From pearls to pure gold, jewels in even better condition than the ones he had collected and priceless artefacts. And as he moved some of them aside, a tiara made of entirely shells of the finest condition and a few perfectly cut diamonds. It lay on top an envelope which held unbelievable photographs of Hayley and Y/n at the beach and in swimming pools, in the sea with dolphins and orcas. We’ll mostly y/n being in the water while Hayley rest upon her surf board. And the images which included Y/n’s tail had him feeling enchanted. Just as he went to look at the next picture, he heard very familiar voices and giggles from downstairs.
He panicked instantly and very carefully put everything back as he found it, not without stealing one of the images of her beautiful form and a shell or two.
He closed her door with a quiet click before vamp-speeding to his art room to behave as though he had been there the whole time.
What he didn’t know was that Y/n knew instantly.
She wasn’t stupid, she always checked on her things and she knew straight away what items were missing and what had been touched. Hayley found her packing her things before they had a whisper-yelling match over whether they should stay or run away.
Interrupted of course by toddler Hope who came in and loudly asked where auntie Y/n was going which attracted the attention of the rest of the Mikaelsons including Klaus.
“You’re leaving me?” Rebekah asked confused
“Uhm well no-“ y/n began
“You’re not?” Hayley whispered and Y/n looked back at her with an expression that said ‘would you shut the actual fuck up or what!?’ Which resulted in Hayley raised her arms out in a ‘come at me’ manner which quickly became a silent argument.
“Y/n” Klaus stated breaking them both out of their little trances and making both head snap to his. “Perhaps you’re overthinking your reasoning to leave?” He gave her a look and she glared back
“Niklaus what did you do?” Elijah sighed and Rebekah frowned looking between Klaus and Y/n
“Hold on is something happening with you two?” She asked with a confused frown
“God no, he just doesn’t know when to leave stuff alone!” Y/n grumbled
“Oh and I shouldn’t be worried about who is living in my house!?” He sneered
“If it had happened two years ago then maybe I would understand. I though we had gone past it and were heading for something close to trust.” She wasn’t sure now whether to be angry or upset, but either way she wasn’t happy with him.
“Well maybe if someone had at least let me know what you are then-“
“Woah, hold on what is she?” Kol piped up looking straight at her.
“Nothing- it doesn’t matter” Klaus shook her head
“Then why are you so angry about it?” Rebekah asked still not understanding anything that was happening
“Can we all please just go to sleep and do this tomorrow?” Hayley yelled holding an upset Hope who was reaching out for Y/n.
“What-“
“But-“
“Well-“
Rebekah, Kol and Elijah chimed all at once but Y/n was already shoving past them toward the front door.
“You better fucking fix it” Hayley growled to Klaus who was quickly following behind her.
“Y/n, love, would you calm down and stop running away” he called as he chased her to her car
“Why do you can yell at me for being such a big lier? Piss off Klaus this isn’t about you. It’s about me and the fact that your stupid kind is the reason I can’t live normally” she slammed her door shut only for him to appear next to her in the passenger seat.
“Well I personally haven’t had anything to do with the extinction- almost extinction of mermaids” he corrected
“I don’t care. You made the vampires who were and I wouldn’t have cared if you hadn’t been so rude as to not only go through my things but take them. Do you know what those things mean to me!?” She yelled “no! You know why? Because you didn’t ask! Maybe a gentle confrontation would have made this a little easier!”
“Well if you hadn’t lied already about who you are-“
“How am I ever meant to tell you anything Klaus? You use everything anyone says against them just for your own benefit! You are a selfish, power hungry hybrid with no regard for others!”
If looks could kill, then both of them would have been dead.
“How dare you-“
“No Klaus. How dare you. Now shut up, get out of my car and go tell your precious family exactly what I am, come and hunt me down just to frame my tail and steal my property like the filthy mutt you are” she damn near screamed while shoving him out the door. Tears streaked her cheeks as she foot her foot down and drove quickly despite the passenger door being half open.
She knew exactly where she was going, the only place truly safe for her. The ocean.
(I dunno why I’m making everything so angsty?)
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keraxxx · 1 year
Note
HIII could you do something where the reader tells bf!ethan how bad her days was and told him someone was really mean and upset with her and they end up going missing the next day bc ethan obviously killed them?
A/N: Hi and of course! This idea is perfect! I’ve been wanting to write something like this omg. I hope you enjoy!
————
No one can hurt you.
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Ethan Landry x Fem!reader
Warnings: crying, mentions of bullying, cursing, description or murder, not proof read.
————
God you were tired. After that long day at college you couldn’t take it, especially after that one girl keeps running her mouth. She always would talk shit about you and it ruined your day. You just needed to see Ethan and talk to him, hold you for at least a second. So that’s what you did, you went to visit him.
You walk to his dorm and gently knock on his door, trying hard not to get anger and pound on it. You wait patiently as you hear shuffling inside.
Ethan opens the door confused bit his face immediately lights up he was so happy to see you. You were his girlfriend and he loved you more than anything in the whole entire world. “Hey baby.. are you okay?” He frowns as he sees your eyes swell up like tears. He invites you inside immediately, his dorm mate no where to be seen.
“Ethan.. I can’t take this anymore.” You finally let out a sob as he takes you into his arms. “Baby.. what wrong?” Ethan hugs you tightly and rests his head on top of yours in an attempt to comfort you. You couldn’t form any words, you just cried. “Shh.. calm down and explain to me what happened.” He brings you to his bed and sits you down.
“This stupid bitch!” You yelled. “She-she won’t stop talking shit about me! What did i do to her? I just need someone to explain to me what the hell i did!” You vented and sobbed. Ethan just say in silence, listening to your cries. “I can’t stand her! I want her to disappear! Maybe then all these people will stop ruining my day with these stupid insults and rumors.” You wipe your face and look at Ethan.
His face was twisted into a frown, his brows furrowed. You could tell he was mad, words couldn’t even explain how he felt right now. “That’s interesting.” Is all he says as he holds your hand, his other caressing your face. “I need you to calm down.” He says calmly, his eyes look innocent but you can tell something inside him had just snapped.
You breathe in and out a few times. “I’m sorry..” He shakes his head. “No need to apologize I understand.” Ethan hugs you again and your arms wrap around his neck. “God i’m so sorry.. I just wish it was me and you.” You say softly into his ear.
“Don’t worry.. it’ll be okay.” He says as he pulls away to kiss you softly.
————
After you had left, Ethan was sitting in his room, his hands folded into each other. He was moving his knee erratically as he started to think. He didn’t want you to be upset about the girl but he also did want you to be worry for about why she was going to go missing the next day.
“Fuck it.”
————
You where scrolling in your phone in your bed as a news article popped up. A news article about your college. You immediately read the title.
“Young girl missing in College.”
You scroll down to see the image of the girl. It was her. The girl who always had something to say. Your eyes widened in shock as you gasped. You couldn’t believe it. Maybe the universe was on your side? No, this is bad. You had to show Ethan.
————
“I just can’t believe it! I was just talking about her yesterday right? God this is such a nightmare!” Ethan laid back as he watched you pace around the room nervously. “Everyone must be so worried! Her family, friends! I feel so bad.” You say as you pout and walk over to Ethan. You lay down next to him and you both face each other. “How are you not worried?” You say frowning.
Ethan chuckles. “Why should I be? She was rude.” He smirked before kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry about it.. She probably just passed out drunk somewhere.”
But he knew what you didn’t. He knew that she was screaming in the alleyway last night for help. He knew and you didn’t.
“I would never let anyone hurt you. You know that right?” He smiles softly and innocently.
————
522 notes · View notes
bonefall · 5 months
Note
May i ask why do you think that Brambleclaw wasn't a good father? not saying i disagree if that is what you think, but why do you? just wondering because i like what you say
Again I hope to have time sometime soon to make a big thing like I did with Breeze, but what gets me about Bramble is that incredibly self-concerned. Like, regularly unable to see past his own feelings to the point where he can't consider his effect on other people.
And Po3 in particular is ALSO trying to frame him like the perfect, most amazing dad in the world. It's for the dramatic irony of the reveal, and to make it EXTRA sad that he's going to abandon his children when he finds out they're adopted... but in the process, they just ignore anything crummy he does. Like he can Do No Wrong.
Particular instances I plan to get into;
When he's angry or disappointed, he's NASTY. He isn't this "super supportive papa" that the Three keep saying he is; he's most supportive when they're making him proud.
He fails to notice that Lionpaw's behavior is getting increasingly violent as a result of his mentor physically abusing him. Is that "Great Dad" material? To not notice your son is struggling?
We eventually learn that Ashfur approached him after one of these savage beatings to butter up to Brambleclaw, insisting that this sort of physical abuse is neccesary because it will give him a strong son.
Stress that again; Ashfur appealed to Brambleclaw's ego so he could keep beating his teenage child. In what world is that "Great Dad" material??
When Hollypaw then tries to tell her dad about how uncomfortable seeing her brother being savaged made her, Bramble tells her... ohh she's So smart, and So so responsible, and he relies on her to keep her brothers in line, and what Ashfur is doing is neccesary.
In any other book series, this would have been a MASSIVE condemnation of Brambleclaw. To be manipulated into allowing his son to get beat, and then turning around to tell his daughter he trusts her to understand it because she's so mature.
But because the Erins like Bramble so very much, it's not acknowledged. Then Ashfur tries to murder these kids later.
And like... again, they want him to be seen as so wonderful and amazing so that it's extra painful when he disowns these kids, but AGAIN, Brambleclaw is supposed to be this incredibly loving, unconditionally loyal, amazingly responsible father...
So how exactly is THAT consistent with abandoning his kids during the most upsetting time of their lives?
Does a wonderful father get consumed by his own pain and humiliation and cut off his kids, one of whom is in the middle of a breakdown? Does he take out his divorce on the children? Is being a "wonderful father" seeing the son you let get abused looking at you, DESPERATELY missing you as his dad, and just turning away?
Or, maybe, being a parent is about being mature. Putting aside your own personal anger or pain or ego to be there for your kids. Something like that???
And yet, he continues to act like that for an entire year. Not improving or self-reflecting at ALL the entire time. When it's miraculously revealed that Hollyleaf isn't DEAD, he's STILL wallowing. The kid he raised came back from the dead but FUCK that, who cares, "what about MY feelings?? Why is no one thinking about whats really important. Meeee."
(Mind you, he was willing to help this same person get away with murder in the last arc. But back then, she was his daughter. Now he doesn't care.)
Eventually SQUIRRELFLIGHT has to tell him that he shouldn't throw away his entire family because he's mad at her. Someone ELSE had to shout it down his thick skull that his bitterness is consuming him and he's ruining his life. Even after a year of punishment, she holds his hand like a big baby and guides him away from his OWN destructive behaviors.
But this isn't about Squilf. This is about Brambleclaw.
He enabled his son's child abuse. The abuser went on to attempt murder of his victim. He IMMEDIATELY turned on the kids he raised when he found out they were secretly adopted, because he was angry at his ex-wife. He only changed because the EX-WIFE told him to cut it out.
That's why I think he's not a great dad. I think talk of his Greatly Dadness are narration wank, and when you look closer, you see a FASCINATINGLY flawed character that the Erins hold back out of WEIRD writer favoritism.
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gigabyte-flare · 8 months
Text
He Comes Alive (Part 3)
Part 1 Part 2
Summary: As you settle into your new routine working for Leon, one day he decides to take you on a nice hike where the two of you make a gruesome discovery.
Word Count: 4.9k
Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]
This part does contain a graphic depiction of an unalived individual. Reader's discretion is advised.
A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists
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While at first you had been nervous about not meeting Leon’s expectations, you find yourself looking forward to getting up each morning to get ready to work at his house. Before you knew it, a couple weeks had gone by, nestled into a nice routine as October rolled in. Like Leon had told you that night at the gas station, he had you painting, cleaning sawdust off the furniture, holding stuff while he took measurements; stuff you could clearly handle. Each day, he’d hand you a $100 bill from his wallet. At first you’d argue that he was paying you too much, you had agreed on $10 an hour, but he’d insist the extra $20 was a bonus for doing such a good job. You found it impossible to make him budge on this, so you stopped arguing with him about it.
A part of you wonders if Leon just wants the company; out in public, he was quiet and usually kept to himself, but when he was working at his house with you? An actual chatterbox. You learn that he is a retired federal agent of some kind, having come back from a mission in Spain and deciding to retire early in a remote, quiet part of the country. He originally wasn’t planning on buying a fixer-upper, but he told you how he fell in love with the scenery up here.
“It’s only going to get better,” you tell him as you’re painting a wall in his kitchen with a paint roller as he works on installing new cabinets, “wait until the leaves start changing. You’ve never seen anything like fall in New England, I promise.”
Then, to your surprise, Leon began to ask about you. You tell him how you had been forced to go to college for accounting and dropped out when you finally couldn’t take it anymore, much to your father’s disapproval. You watch Leon’s face grow serious as you tell him about how hard your father is on you.
“You really need to stand up for yourself, sweetheart,” you must have heard Leon tell you a thousand times now.
“I know,” you reply, “but he just wants what’s best for me. He just has a weird way of showing he cares. I promise he’s not a mean guy.”
You continue to tell Leon about your family until Leon finally interjects, “Not to change the subject, but can I ask you a personal question?”
You stop mid-roll with the paint roller, looking over at him as he finishes installing another cabinet door, “sure. Shoot.”
“Got a boyfriend?”
Your eyes widen, your breath catching in your throat; that certainly wasn’t a question you expected him to ask. Leon must see the look of shock on your face, because he immediately starts apologizing.
“No, no! It’s fine!” you assure him, collecting yourself, “no, I don’t. I casually dated a couple guys when I was in college, but nothing serious.”
“Can I ask another personal question?”
“Sure!”
“Are you a virgin?”
The butterflies in your stomach immediately start in, your face turning beet red as you attempt to compose yourself to answer his question, “y-yes… I am. I guess you could say I’m picky. I want my first time to be with someone special.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon smile at you before focusing his attention back on the kitchen cabinets, “there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart.”
Him calling you sweetheart was nothing new, you had gotten used to the nickname but this time, he said it with very clear intention and it shot straight into you, causing your clit to pulse in arousal. You try your best to ignore it.
“Can I safely assume you’re not a virgin?” you ask him, trying your best to just focus on painting the wall.
Leon chuckles, clearly amused by your question, “no, I’m definitely not. You could say I’m quite experienced in the matter.”
You weren’t surprised, especially considering Leon is 15 years older than you, a fact you often forgot because Leon was just so easy to talk to and get along with. Your mind begins to wander, imagining Leon being the one to take your virginity, how good he must be in bed with all the experience he has. You immediately shake the thought, ashamed you’re thinking such lewd thoughts when he’s right there. In an attempt to distract yourself, you look around the kitchen as you roll paint onto the wall, your eyes settling on a calendar Leon has hanging on one of the walls, which jogs your memory of a town event coming up.
“Has anyone told you about our annual Harvest Festival?” you ask, turning your attention back over to Leon. 
“No they haven’t. What’s that?”
“It’s more like a carnival than anything, it’s an event we’ve had going in town since… 1947 I think… 40 years now, just celebrating the harvest and the coming of fall. There’s carnival rides, livestock and most importantly, food. You should check it out if you get a chance. It’s the last full week of October.”
“Maybe we can go together and you can show me all there is to see,” Leon replies as he hoists another cabinet onto the wall.
Your heart skips a beat at his response, “i-if you want to go together… we certainly can.”
“I’d love to go with you.”
“O-Ok…!”
Leon finishes getting the cabinet up, brushing his hands together before looking at his watch, then to you, “let’s stop for lunch, sweetheart.”
You finish painting the section of the wall you were working on before looking over at Leon, giving him a nod of acknowledgement as you set down the paint roller. You watch as Leon grabs stuff out of the fridge to make sandwiches: bread, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, onion and what had to be the rarest roast beef lunch meat you’d ever seen. Despite that, Leon made killer sandwiches, so you always look forward to having lunch with him.
Plus you were, you know, having lunch with Leon.
He sets the sandwich stuff down on a clean spot of the kitchen counter, turning to you, “go ahead and get comfortable in the dining room. I’ll bring the sandwiches in when they’re done.”
“Sounds good, I’m just going to hit the bathroom first, though,” you reply as you walk out of the kitchen. 
You pass through the dining room, out into a hallway, you walk by what you assume is the basement door on your way to the bathroom. You do your business and come back out, noticing on your way out that the basement door is padlocked shut. 
“That’s odd,” you say to yourself as you stop and look at the padlock. 
You look around the door but you don’t see any sign of the key, not even on the small table that’s next to the door, which is even more odd. You then make your way back to the dining room, where Leon is already eating his sandwich, yours set in the other seat at the small dining table. 
“Why’s the basement door padlocked?” you ask as you take a seat at the table.
Leon finishes chewing, nodding in acknowledgement of your question before he speaks, “there’s a lot of personal stuff down there, files and junk. Because I used to work for the government, there’s some classified files down there, too. I keep it locked just so that stuff stays safe.”
“Ah ok, that makes sense, sorry for prying. I just happened to notice it when I walked by, that’s all,” you reply before taking a bite of your sandwich.
“No need to apologize, it’s only natural for you to be curious.”
You take this quiet moment eating lunch together to really admire Leon, but discreetly. Today, he is wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt, which only accentuates his muscular body. Your favorite part of him, however, had to be those beautiful blue eyes. You constantly find yourself lost in them when you talk to him. 
He suddenly makes eye contact with you, giving you a playful smirk when he notices you checking him out. You squirm in your seat, your heart racing as his ocean gaze seems to peer straight into your soul. There is no denying it now: you are hopelessly in love with Leon Kennedy.
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“Mom, Dad! I’m home!” you call out as you walk into the house from the door that leads to the garage.
Your mother looks over at you from the kitchen sink as she does the dishes, “hey there, sweetie! How was your day?”
“It was good!” you reply as you hang up your purse and denim jacket in a small closet next to the garage door, “I painted some of the kitchen walls while Leon got the new cabinets up.”
“Hmph!” you hear your father from the living room where he’s sitting in his recliner, watching the news.
You watch your mother let out a heavy sigh as she shakes her head. Looking to you, she mouths ‘ignore him’ before focusing her attention back on doing the dishes.
“It smells amazing in here, what are you making for dinner, Mom?” 
“Pork roast with potatoes, onions and carrots, sweetie. Figured that’d be a nice meal for a crisp day like today. Go ahead and relax, sweetie, I’ll call you down when dinner’s ready!”
About an hour and a half later, true to her word, your mother calls you down for dinner. At first, you all eat dinner in silence as your father reads the newspaper. An ad for the annual Harvest Festival catches your eye, reminding you of your conversation with Leon earlier that day.
“I was telling Leon about the Harvest Festival today,” you say, pointing out the ad in the newspaper.
“Oh, that’s right! Is he going to go, you think?” your mother asks.
“I think we’re actually going to go together,” you reply, your cheeks immediately start to turn pink as you shift in your seat.
“So, what? Are you seeing him now, is that what this is about?” your father growls, his eyes glaring at you.
“Wait-- what? No!”
“How old is he?” your father asks, his tone still angry.
“He’s… 36…” you reply, trying to avoid your father’s gaze.
“And you’re 21. Absolutely not, you’re not going with him and that’s final. In fact, you’re going to call him right now and tell him you quit--”
“Mick, you’re being ridiculous!” your mother cuts him off, slamming her fork down onto the table.
“I’m trying to protect our daughter! There’s a 15 year difference between them, that’s not acceptable!” your father argues back.
“Mick we’re 10 years apart, how’s that any different? She’s an adult, she can make her own decisions. How many times do I have to drill that into your thick skull, Mick?”
Your father grumbles, angrily stabbing his fork into the pork roast and taking a bite, aggressively chewing.
Your mom shakes her head, looking back over at you, “I’m sorry sweetheart. You absolutely can go to the festival with Leon,” your mother looks back over at your father, narrowing her eyes at him, “right, Mick?”
You watch your father roll his eyes before responding, “yes, dear…”
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A couple days go by after you got into that argument with your father, but thankfully it’s business as usual. You wake up early as usual, getting yourself dressed and eating breakfast before you head out the door to go to Leon’s house. As you drive down Hemlock Drive, you notice the bursts of color on the trees changing into their autumn colors. It wasn’t quite peak foliage yet, you reckon about another week or so before that happens.
You park your car in its usual spot in front of Leon’s house, climbing out and approaching the front door. You simply open the front door and walk inside; Leon had told you that you were always welcome and didn’t need to knock. Upon walking in, you see Leon’s got his leather jacket on and that he’s packing a backpack.
“Whatcha doin’?” you ask, trying to look to see what Leon is up to.
“Good morning, sweetheart! Figured we’d do something different today; you deserve a break for working so hard,” he replies as he continues packing the backpack.
“Like… what?” 
“I was thinking we could do the Basin trail today, especially since the fall colors are starting to pop up. I’ve heard people in town talk about it and wanted to see it for myself.”
You swallow hard, your anxiety immediately heightened, “you… do know there’s something in the mountains that’s been attacking hikers… right?”
Leon stops, turning to you, giving you a confident smirk before opening one side of his jacket to reveal a gun holster hanging from his torso with a 9mm handgun tucked inside.
“I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
You give him a nervous nod, “i-if you say so…”
Leon gives you a reassuring smile before returning his attention back to finishing packing the backpack.
“There, bags are all packed and ready to go. I even made us sandwiches so we can have a little picnic in the mountains, doesn’t that sound nice?” Leon asks as he zips up the bag before handing it to you.
You grab the backpack, slinging it onto your back as you watch Leon grab the other backpack off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder as he gives you a wink, “ready to go, sweetheart?”
You follow him back outside, watching as he locks up.
“Are we taking your bike?” you ask as you look over to his motorcycle.
“No, we’ll be taking the Jeep,” he replies as he walks off the porch, turning to go to his Jeep parked on the side of the house; you follow close behind him.
He walks up to the passenger’s side door, opening it for you. You climb inside, slipping the backpack off your back and setting it onto the floor of the Jeep, as Leon climbs into the driver’s seat, putting on his seat belt. He turns the ignition and the Jeep comes alive with a low purr as you put on your own seat belt. 
“I hope Metallica is ok,” Leon says to you, smirking at you as he shifts the Jeep into first gear and starts driving.
As if on queue, ‘Master of Puppets’ begins to play. Metal isn’t exactly your thing, but the tune is undeniably catchy. As Leon drives you down Hemlock, you watch, almost hypnotically, as he shifts the Jeep from one gear to the next. The first thing you notice is you feel every single bump in this road; you find yourself grabbing onto the Jeep’s roll bar above your head to steady yourself. You think you hear Leon chuckle under the loud purr of the Jeep. 
Once on the main road, the ride was a little more steady, but not by much, you reckon that is just how Jeeps ride since this is your first time in one. Your gaze shifts from Leon’s hand on the stick shift, to out your window, watching the pops of color in the trees pass by, the sun finally cresting over the mountains. You suddenly feel Leon’s hand caress your thigh, causing you to jump a little as you look back over at him. He gives you a playful wink, his hand returning to the stick shift. 
Before long, he pulls into the trailhead for the Basin trail. The Basin is a rock formation formed by thousands of years of water running through it, first formed during the ice age; the erosion from the water making a natural, crystal clear pool. Parking the Jeep, he climbs out, putting on his backpack as he walks over to the passenger’s side, opening your door and letting you out. Setting out onto the trail, the two of you walk side by side, taking in the scenery as the two of you make small talk about what’s the next agenda in Leon’s house, the weather and even the upcoming Harvest Festival. You do mention your argument with your father, causing Leon to shake his head.
It doesn’t take long to come upon the Basin itself, you hear Leon let out a soft ‘wow’ as he approaches the large fence blocking off public access to the pool of water. You stand next to him, leaning up against the fence to admire the Basin. You’d seen it before, but it had been years since the last time you saw it; it is still just as beautiful and mystifying as you remember. 
“Cool, huh?” you ask.
“Very,” Leon replies, as he tries to nonchalantly reach over and snake his arm around your waist.
You feel yourself blush, but you let him, feeling him pull you closer to him as wraps his arm around your waist. For a few minutes, the two of you admire the Basin in silence, the sound of the water rushing in creating a sense of clarity. There is no doubt in your mind that you love Leon, and you’re starting to sense he feels the same way, or at the very least is attracted to you. From the corner of your eye you see Leon turn to you, a subtle smile forming on his lips.
“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asks.
At first you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly, it takes you a moment to process it but when you do, your heart immediately starts racing. Turning to him, your face undoubtedly beet red.
You swallow hard, working up the courage to answer him, “y-yes… you can.”
Leon doesn’t hesitate, he shifts himself so that he has you pinned to the fence with his body, his hands gently cupping your face as he leans down, pressing his perfect lips against yours. It doesn’t take long for him to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping in to explore your mouth. You do the same, your tongues dancing around each other as Leon’s hands trail from your face, over your torso before finally resting on your waist. Meanwhile, your hands run through his blonde hair as you softly moan into the kiss.
The sound of a wolf’s whistle startles both of you. Leon stops, turning around to find two college aged boys, undoubtedly from Plymouth State University, staring at the two of you, snickering before they move on, walking in the direction that you two had come from. Leon lets out a frustrated sigh.
“We should get going, we can continue this later,” he purrs, looking back down at you and winking.
You nod as the two of you walk away from the Basin, Leon’s arm once again wrapping itself around your waist to keep you close. The two of you hike in silence, enjoying the sounds of nature. Unfortunately, the moment is soured when a powerful odor hits you like a ton of bricks, stopping you in your tracks.
“Do you smell that, Leon?”
“I do… I unfortunately know that smell anywhere. It’s the smell of death.”
You pace around, trying to ascertain which direction the smell is coming from, “you don’t think… it’s one of the hikers… do you?”
“Could be a large animal, but we better check it out, in case it is one of the missing hikers. I think it’s coming from this way,” he says, gesturing off the trail.
As you both start heading off the trail, into the woods with you taking the lead. The odor is becoming stronger and stronger as you go further away from the trail, a clear sign you were heading in the right direction. Coming up over a small incline, you see what you were hoping not to see at the bottom, a person. You immediately cover your mouth and nose with your shirt, the stench at this point overwhelming. As much as you don’t want to, you get closer, being careful not to slip and fall going down the incline. Leon catches up with you, still following behind you.
As you get closer, you can see the person is lying on their side, their skin an eerie white. From what you can see, the person has bite marks on their neck, much like what was described on the other hiker that was found. You look all around the person for anything that can identify them, your eyes finally settling on a ring that’s on their middle finger, your heart immediately sinking. You recognize the ring as your class ring, which can only mean one thing:
It’s Nate Dion.
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His plan couldn’t have worked out any better. Not only did he successfully win over her affections, which he wasn’t concerned about, but stumbling upon the body in the woods was no accident. He led her to the body. He wanted her to see what he is capable of, how powerful he is, how he can provide for her. Obviously, she doesn’t know this, not yet anyway. Now is not the right time to show her, or to give her his gift. 
Unsurprisingly, she threw herself at Leon upon the realization that it was the chief’s son. And, of course, he would hold her, smirking down at the body as she cried into his chest. Now, they were back in his Jeep, driving back into Oakvale to the police station. He looks over at her, seeing how she lays her head against the passenger’s side window, her arms wrapped around herself. His jacket is draped over her shoulders. Reaching over, he rubs his hand on her thigh to reassure her. She places her hand on top of his, squeezing it in acknowledgement. 
“It’ll be ok, angel, we’re almost at the police station,” he says to her. 
He turns his attention back onto the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel like a vice as he struggles to get his primal urges to breed under control. Finally he pulls up on the Oakvale police station, parking in one of the spots and killing the engine.
“I’ll go in and let them know what we found, angel--”
“I’m coming with you. Please don’t leave me alone, Leon…”
Looking over at her, he gives her a gentle smile, “of course, let’s head inside together, then.”
He gets out of the Jeep, walking around to let her out of the passenger’s side, immediately wrapping his arm around her in a protective gesture as they both walk inside the police station. Both of them walk up to the reception desk.
“We need to see Chief Dion,” Leon commands, resting his free arm on the counter as he glares down at the receptionist.
The receptionist pushes her glasses up off the bridge of her nose, “I’m sorry, Chief Bob’s currently in a meeting--”
“Please! It’s urgent, we found Nate…” his angel suddenly blurts out, the panic clear in her voice.
“What!” the receptionist exclaims, looking over at her, “is he…?”
“Yes, he’s dead, just like the other hiker they found the other day,” Leon replies.
The receptionist immediately picks up the phone, dialing a number, “Chief, Leon Kennedy and Mick’s daughter are here, they’re saying they found Nate…”
The receptionist hangs up the phone, looking at his angel, then to Leon, before continuing, “he’s expecting you, please go through the door on the left over there. His office is the first one on the right.
“Thank you,” Leon replies before he walks over to the door in question, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders.
Upon walking through the door, Leon finds the Chief’s office, walking in with his angel in tow. As soon as they enter, his angel lifts her head to address the Chief. 
“I’m sorry, Chief… he’s… he’s…” his angel begins, but then immediately breaks down sobbing. 
Leon wraps both his arms around her, trying to comfort her, “he’s dead, Chief Dion.”
“God…” Chief Dion says, looking to the floor, his eyes darting back and forth in disbelief before looking back up at Leon, “if I pull out a map, can you point out where you found him?”
Before Leon can even answer, his angel replies, “I can Chief…”
“R-Right… I’ll be right back then.”
Leon watches as Chief Dion leaves the office. He coaxes his angel over to a bench on the opposite side of his desk, sitting himself and her down as he holds her close, running his hand through her hair to love on her; to entangle her into his web even more. Leon buries his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent deep before placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head.
Before long, Chief Dion comes back out with a map of the trails in Franconia Notch, rolling it open to show his angel, “sweetheart, can you point on the map where you found Nate.”
Leon watches her turn her attention to the map; she ponders for a moment before pointing to a spot just off the Basin trail heading West, “right about here…”
“Off the Basin trail?” Chief Dion says, perplexed as he takes the map, looking at it with an eyebrow raised, “how on Earth did he end up over there?”
Shit Leon cursed mentally, he hadn’t thought about where he had originally grabbed him from, no matter, it’ll be fine.
Leon watches Chief Dion grab his transmitter, pushing the button to speak into it.
“Attention all units, I need Police, Fish and Game and EMT at the Basin trailhead immediately. Nate has been located. He’s… he’s dead…”
Chief Dion turns his attention back to Leon, “would both of you be able to stay here until I get back so we can collect a statement?”
“Of course, Chief, not a problem at all,” Leon replies, giving the Chief his best, kind smile.
“Thank you, I won’t be too long. Hang tight,” Chief Dion replies as he leaves the office, heading out the door to the receptionist area.
Leon wraps his arms around his angel even tighter, adjusting himself so that she could relax in his embrace. He watches her intently as her breasts rise and fall with each breath she takes. He can’t help but smile down at her.
Once we’re done here, I’ll bring her back home, and make her a nice dinner. Then I’ll continue where I left off earlier. It shouldn’t be very difficult to get her into my bedroom and--
“WHERE IS HE?!” a male voice shouts from the receptionist area, breaking Leon’s thoughts.
“Mick, you can’t go back there! Get back--!”
The door suddenly bursts open, an irate man charging through and coming into Chief Dion’s office.
“You…” the man practically growls as he looks down at Leon, “you son of a bitch!”
“Dad, what are you--”
“What were you planning on doing to my daughter?! Lure into the woods so you can have your way with her and then ditch her somewhere?!”
Leon rolls his eyes as he stands up, coming face to face with his angel’s father, Mick, noting how his face is red in rage, “what are you talking about?”
“Working on the house my ass! What the fuck are you doing dragging my daughter out into the woods alone with you?!” Mick continues, “I knew something wasn’t right about you!”
“Dad come on, please stop!”
“No! I am doing what’s best for you, this guy needs to fucking go!”
Mick suddenly comes at Leon swinging, landing a couple punches into Leon’s stomach before Leon is able to dodge them. Leon is unphased by the punches Mick did manage to land. Mick continues his assault, one punch missing and going straight through the sheet rock in Chief Dion’s office. Mick takes a second to shake his hand off before he continues to launch punches at Leon. It is taking everything in Leon not to snap and attack Mick with the full force of his abilities.
Leon, finally having enough of Mick’s mindless flailing of his arms, curls up his fist and punches him directly in the center of his face, breaking Mick’s nose instantly. Leon watches as blood runs out from his nostrils, his pupils dilating as the smell of blood goes straight to his head. He can feel his fangs descend and he fights off the urge to feed as Mick tries to get his hands around Leon’s neck. Leon reaches up, trying to grasp Mick’s hands to pry them off, however he’s too inebriated by the sight and smell of blood to be able to pry him off. 
Chief Dion and several officers come through the door, the officers grabbing Mick from behind and managing to get his hands behind his back to handcuff him. Leon rubs his neck with one of his hands, looking down at his other hand, seeing faint signs of his black veins. He’s able to finally get himself under control, the black veins disappearing without a trace and feeling his fangs retract. 
“What the hell is your problem, Mick?!” Chief Dion exclaims, his voice filled with disappointment. 
“I am just protecting my daughter,” Mick replies, his angry gaze focused on Leon.
In that moment, Leon knows one thing for certain:
The father needs to go.
Part 4
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train-wrecc · 1 year
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– “ DATING NIKLAUS MIKAELSON “ HEADCANON's
niklaus mikaelson x human!female!reader –
warnings!: kidnapping, blood, murder, somewhat stalkerish tendencies mentioned?
word count: 2.03k requested by: @catmikaelson20
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。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚
Klaus had noticed your arrival in New Orleans straight away, after all, it was his city, and he was the King of it, or so he liked to think.
Something about your piercing eyes which were always filled with curiosity and wonder as you wandered the city full of supernaturals, had caught his attention.
The city could get windy at times and he loved watching as you made your way through the French Quarter, your shiny locks swinging in the wind.
Klaus had thought he had been very stealthy, however, he was not. 
You’d always find him not too far from you, lurking in the shadows, it really should’ve creeped you out that some hybrid had been following you albeit it was the opposite.
You found it comforting in a way, knowing someone was always looking out for you.
Elijah, knew you were Klaus's current infatuation, so after a few months of suffering and having to watch Niklaus practically stalk you, he had decided he would introduce himself to you, seeing as he’d seen you around as well.
You thought it was by chance that you’d run into the Elijah Mikaelson, however, it was not. Elijah had figured out your routine and purposely ran into you on your daily stop at the cafe you had been working at. 
Elijah hurriedly walked into the cafe after you had been in there for 10 minutes, as he had seen you talking to your coworkers. You had accidentally spilled your coffee all over his crisp suit, your face besmirched with nothing other than horror. 
Your mouth had been agape, before you had finally shaken out of your daze, “Oh my god, I am so sorry! I swear you came out of nowhere, here, let me help you.” You quickly rambled.
“Don’t worry about it, I didn’t much care for this suit anyways,” He assured you, as you frantically patted napkins against the material of the suit in an attempt to dry it.
He placed his hand against yours to stop you, “It’s quite alright…” He said, waiting for you to fill in your name for him.
“Y/n, you’re the infamous Elijah Mikaelson,” You responded.
“Indeed, I am, Y/n.” He said, a charming smile on his face.
“You Mikaelsons are awfully famous around here… huh,”
“Yes, our family has some history in New Orleans, we practically built the city,”
“Wow, here, let me buy you a coffee or something to make up for your destroyed suit, although I’m sure it costs much more than a 5-dollar coffee,” You laughed.
“Well, I’ll gladly take the coffee,”
The both of you had settled into a conversation, as you strolled about the Quarter.
Elijah had been telling you all about the supernatural history of New Orleans, seeing as you had told him you knew about vampires, wolves, and witches, including how you knew he and his family were the Originals.
You had gestured to your vervain ring, as you had explained your numerous encounters with various supernatural beings.
You had even gotten talking about hobbies, and how you quite enjoyed writing, which had prompted a proposal from Elijiah, “It’s quite interesting that you mention that, my brother Niklaus is in desperate need of an editor or typist, he’s got a few things in the works, I’m sure he’d love your assistance.”
“Oh, I’m not sure I’d be much help,”
“I assure you he’d deeply appreciate it, and I’m sure you’re quite the novelist yourself,” He sang your praises, and you gave in.
When you first met Niklaus he tried to keep his guard up around you, trying to come off as intimidating, however, his plan had backfired.
“Y’know sometimes when I walk through the quarter, for some reason, I just feel eyes on me, like someone’s watching me, hiding in the shadows. Do you ever feel like that?” You’d told the hybrid. 
His face slightly twitched before he quickly hid it with a smirk on his full lips, “Love, I’m Niklaus Mikaelson, I’ve always got eyes on me, I have an exponential amount of enemies that’d love to get me when I’m vulnerable.”
The more time the two of you spent together, the more you somehow broke down the hybrid’s concrete walls.
Niklaus may have been stubborn, but so were you.
“Niklaus, you’re writing is exceptional, you don’t need my help, so why do you insist that I help you edit your work?”
“Love, my writing is exceptional because you edit it.”
“Nonsense. You know, with the amount of time we spend together, you’d think I’d know more about you, I mean I feel like you practically know everything about me…”
Eventually, Niklaus opened up to you about everything, from the years of abuse he suffered at the hand of his father, to his deep fear of abandonment, how he’d always felt odd due to being a “bastard” child.
You knew Nik had flaws, however there was something about him that pulled you in, maybe it was his dedication to his family and their long promise of always and forever.
It was something you wish your family had, that kind of closeness, that no matter what they did, you’d always go back to each other, however, your family was far from that.
From his insistent paranoia to his anger issues, you’d still fallen for him.
Secretly he felt the same, your outer and inner beauty, kindness, and caring personality had made him wrapped around your finger.
He desperately tried to hide it but failed.
Whenever you’d leave, he’d insist on taking you home, to ensure you’d made it safely, as well as insisting you texted him when you were safely inside your apartment.
Eventually, it came to the point where you’d see each other every day, Niklaus often stopping by your work for a cup of his usual coffee. It had gotten to the point where your coworkers had thought he was your boyfriend, which you’d always deny. 
However, there was a twinge in your heart that deeply wanted a relationship with the infamous hybrid.
Everyone could see that you both were head over heels in love with each other but the two of you, whenever anyone said anything you both denied what was right in front of you.
“You’ve truly lost your mind, Rebekah, there’s no way she feels any sort of way for me. She’s too kind. Too pure.”
“Yeah right, like Klaus Mikaelson has feelings for me!” You had laughed.
What finally changed the dynamic of your relationship was when you had been kidnapped by one of Klaus’s enemies.
You had been held hostage and tortured for days, before Klaus finally found you in the abandoned warehouse.
He had torn up the city looking for you, whilst threatening witches to do locator spells for him.
When he came to rescue you, you watched as he murdered your captors in cold blood.
He freed you from the ropes which held you, blood besmirching his face and clothes, as his eyes that glowed yellow returned to their usual blue color.
He pulled you into a tight embrace, clinging to you as he muttered various apologies, from being sorry for getting you kidnapped to having to see him end your captor's lives.
You simply gave him a weak smile, hands on his face, you wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth before smashing your lips against his.
He returned the kiss with fervor, before pulling away.
He opened his eyes, “We shouldn’t start this, Y/n, I don’t want to endanger you any more than I already have.”
After that Niklaus had kept his distance from you, however, returned to keeping an eye on you from the shadows.
You had had enough.
You had stormed into the compound yelling and demanding Klaus to come out. Once you had you’d told him off about how he had no right to decide what was best for you, seeing as you were a grown woman who could make her own decisions.
“Who are you to decide what’s best for me Klaus?! I am in love with you and I don’t care if that put’s me in danger!”
It felt like hours had passed as you and Niklaus shouted back and forth, voices echoing throughout the compound for Rebekah and Elijah to hear.
Somehow Klaus had come to the realization that you were more stubborn than him. He murmured a “Bloody hell,” before he shut you up with a kiss.
From then on, you and Klaus had begun dating.
You and Klaus were inseparable.
He always wanted to be near you, in order to protect you, and if he couldn’t he’d order Elijah, Rebekah, Marcel, or someone to guard you when he couldn’t.
He’d constantly surprise you with random gifts such as flowers, “Just because,”.
Klaus would always spoil you, and always insist that he pay for everything, “Love, you’re a queen, and deserve to be treated like it.”
Taking you on random dates, spontaneous trips.
Not long after you began dating, you’d moved into the compound, Klaus no longer wanting you to be living in your apartment by yourself.
Depending on your hair type: Nik would learn how to braid, after you’d complain about your arms aching after having finished doing your own box braids or cornrows /// having to braid your hair before you sleep so you wouldn’t get split ends or tangles in the morning.
He’d always deny it but he secretly loved cuddling, especially when he was the small spoon.
Constantly having to be touching you, whether it be an arm around your waist, his palm against your thigh, holding hands.
Learning to cook your favorite meal.
Waking up each morning to your favorite morning drink on your bedside table.
Catching him watching you as you applied your makeup, “I can’t help it, love, it’s not my fault you’re so gorgeous.”
Always wanting your attention, “Love, are you listening to me?” 
“Of course, I am, lovey.”
Needing to have one of your AirPods in, so he could listen to your music as well.
Countless nights where the both of you would just stay up talking about anything and everything.
If you wear glasses/contacts, he’d love when you wore your glasses over your contacts.
Whenever you would do some self-care such as face masks, he’d always want to participate as well, “Darling, just because I’m an immortal hybrid doesn’t mean that I don’t need to take care of my skin, I mean this isn’t just immortality, it’s SPF as well.”
Whenever he was stressed he’d love it when you’d play with his hair, it always soothed him and melted his stress.
When he’s upset he’d take some time to himself not wanting to lash out at you.
You and Rebekah were the best of friends and loved teasing Klaus together.
You’d eventually learn that Elijah had set you up, because Klaus had never really been looking for an editor or typist.
“Elijah! I can’t believe this,” You laughed.
Whenever Nik would wake up from a nightmare, you’d be right there for him, placing soothing kisses on his shoulder to comfort him.
You would be the first to say the L word, it had been after you and Nik had been dating for almost a year. 
You always knew you had strong feelings for Nik, however, they were really brought to light when you’d gotten extremely sick, and Nik spent every day at your bedside taking care of you.
You had been slightly delirious but you meant every word.
Nik had been laying next to you, the both of you facing each other after he had just made you your favorite soup.
Your hand reached for his own, clasping it. His blue eyes met your own, “I love you, Niklaus Mikaelson.”
It had left him slightly shocked, his mouth slightly agape, before a large dimpled grin spread across his face, “I love you too, Y/n Y/l/n.”
You both loved each other immensely and would do anything for each other.
。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚
A/N: Idk how to feel about this…
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ficdumper · 2 months
Text
We don't talk about Lucifer
Description: There was a time where you and your brother were inseparable, but everything changed when you fell. Not only was it silently agreed to never talk about him again, but many started wondering whether you will meet the same fate
Type: one-shot, songfic
Tags: angst, open angsty ending
Reader info: GN, Lucifer's sibling, a seraphim
Warnings: slight gore, murder
Song: Mirabel's villain song by Lydia the bard (can be found on YouTube)
We don't talk about Lucifer, no, no
We don't talk about Lucifer
But
Heaven is perfect, any angel would say that. It was true, with it's fluffy clouds and bright skies
Heaven is a paradise, a sacred safe place. And it was true for you, until they cast out Lucifer.
At first your reaction was denial. You just couldn't accept the reality of the situation - your brother, the biggest dreamer you've ever known, was casted out for being different. So what if he made a mistake, aren't angels supposed to be forgiving?
Whenever you actually left your home, everyone either looked at you with pity or looked away, pretending they didn't see you.
You made him walk away
He left himself or so you say
But I've heard another take
Next came the fury. Your eyes lost the once bright spark, your heart grieving, full of anger. You couldn't understand, how was his act so bad they sent him to the fiery pits of Hell for the rest of eternity? It wasn't fair! Not to him, not to the now free willed humans, not to you. They dared to separate you from your brother and expected you to just accept it? Accept as they say vile things about him, about what a disgrace he was?
Accept as they whispered: will they be the same?
You hide in your storm and close off from the rain
But don't see the damage in your wake
Still failing to accept your reality even after decades, if not centuries, after what happened, you continued trying to talk to the highest angels you could find, hoping to ease their decision. But, to no avail.
At first, they tried to let you down politely, telling you that the past can't be changed, that it was God's will, that it was your brother's fault. The more you tried to say something, the more they disapproved, ignoring you like they did Lucifer and his dreams, whispering behind your back. Tired from your constant attempts, they stopped answering. You were warned to stop trying unless you want to make a mistake.
You didn't want to fall like him, did you?
From Lucifer you turn on me
You whisper as if I don't see
The fear, the dread of what I'll be
Slowly being broken down by others' ignorance, you started to lose whatever remained of your hope. No-one grieved your brother, no-one missed his bright eyes full of dreams. Instead, they avoided talking about him as if he was the plague, infecting anyone who stood beside him. They hated talking about him, but seemed to love calling you a curse like him, a disaster waiting to happen.
No-one was going to forgive him, those so called epitomes of mercy and forgiveness, so what's the point?
But we don't talk about Lucifer, no, no
Slowly but surely, you accepted that he was never coming back. You had a lot of time to think about everything that happened. And what did you realise? You realised that heaven is full of liars, that God wasn't merciful, that the angels didn't care about anyone even slightly different from them, including you.
For years you stayed silent, afraid of falling like him. But you started getting tired of them either walking all over you or acting as if you didn't exist. Anyone would get exhausted by this constant abuse, even if they would rather die than admit it. Still, you were an angel. You were supposed to represent kindness, peace, forgiveness.
But how could you ever forgive them for their neglect?
We don't talk about Lucifer
...
Time to bring this family down
Yeah I'm the villain in your fairy tale now
If someone told you even a century ago that one day you will be a murderer, you would've laughed in their face, saying that it wasn't a holy thing to do. But pain changes people.
And here you were now, years later, standing over a fellow seraphim's body. Your hands and outfit were covered in golden blood, guess the angels weren't as untouchable as you were told. Their once bright halo was seemed to burn your hands, but it was worth it.
The sand's run out
And there's just you to blame
How's it feel to stain your family name
The pain meant you won, no-one else will underestimate you again. They won't dare, those scared chockens. You won't let them dismiss you again.
They could have easily avoided this situation if it wasn't for their ignorance. Sure, you brought shame to heaven. Yes, you will now forever be a monster in their eyes. But you will finally be free from them. Even if it meant losing your grace. Even if it meant falling.
I'll reclaim all that I've lost
See you understand what your apathy cost
It's your end of days and I'll still hear you say
We don't talk about Lucifer, no, no
"Y/N Morningstar. For your blasphemous murder of a fellow angel, you are sentenced to become a fallen angel, bound to rot in hell for the rest of eternity"
You couldn't remember the last time an angel was cast out. Standing in the middle of the meeting room, looked at with disgust like usual, you couldn't help but feel a sick satisfaction. You can finally be free. Free from the haunting whispers, free from the hateful glares.
The chains binding your hands burned you, slowly draining your powers. The emptiness that replaced your once beautiful wings felt haunting, blood dripping from your back. Ever the optimist, you still found a sense of beauty in the emptiness. Losing something so connected to your past was a price to pay for a new beginning. One could even call it poetic.
Sera ordered to open the portal to hell. You looked around you one more time, trying to memorize this moment. The faces of your once colleagues, the looks mixed with pity and disgust, the silent questions about what happened to you.
In your last moment in heaven, just before being pushed into the portal, you couldn't help but say:
"Should have talked about Lucifer"
A/N: Hi! This is my first ever songfic ever so I'd be happy to hear your feedback. I have a habit of daydreaming about fandoms and songs at the same time and thought it might be interesting to combine them. I already have another idea what to write about one of the other Lydia the bard's songs, so I'll probably post something about it in the next few days. Hope you enjoyed the angst ;)
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