#do you think she looked back at the trail of rot through the tree behind them

[hiddenlife-manager]

Apollo x Fem Chubby Reader NSFW

cw… orgasmining, no mention of cum but inferred creampie, not edited, public sex, forest sex, slight emotional apollo, loving partner apollo, zeus mention, gentle sex, praise, doggy standing, breast mention, etc...

notepad… NEW FANDOM I LOVE APOLLO AND HERMES!! Not gonna lie this was long, but in a way I needed to use this to get out of writers block. Like I have been struggling mentally for some time and just have been bed rotting all summer due to avoiding stress. I think I plan on coming back though. School is about to start, I am trying to pay for it and the office is PISSING ME OFF LIKE ACCEPT MY MONEY!

You were walking through the forest; it was a dark night, and the moon was high up as you tried to get back to the Polis. You have traveled so far to the Temple of Apollo to meet the oracle. You were advised by your lover to travel from your polis to see the oracle. You were traveling from wagon to wagon, and thankfully, your Polis was down the path, and you were left to walk. You passed trees and looked down to see a lit-up Polis down the large hill. Through the forest trail, you would have to walk for an hour.

“Very well,” you mumbled as you fixed your peplos and began to walk. You were nervous, afraid that an animal would come up from behind you and try to kill you, but the trip to and from has been safe. To some, it would seem like godly intervention. It was as if you were being watched by a god; in a way, it was true. But like all the gods, he had limits on how to keep you safe without interfering. “Just a little more.” 

As you were walking, you could feel eyes on you. Looking up at the sky, you saw a hawk soaring through the sky, landing on a strong branch. You let a smile reach your lips. You raised your hand to your lips and smiled even brighter. You blinked once, and there you saw a tan, muscular man on a tree branch. His long blonde hair was swaying in the night breeze.

“How was the oracle?” He asked you, and there he hopped off the branch and down onto the ground like it was nothing; his cape blew in the breeze alongside his hair as if the winds were favoring him. He walked over to you; he clearly dimmed his own light from the moment he turned into his normal form. He placed his hands on your shoulder, and then one hand removed itself from it and grabbed your chin. “You look dirty, my dearest.”

“What do you expect from me? I have been traveling.” He nodded at your response and noticed that you were close home. He was the one who advised you to go to the oracle. He was the one who said it was best you got your prophecy from them and not him. “The oracle accepted the rabbit pelt you gifted me; she informed me that I will never marry if I stay with my current love.” You looked at him; you always thought maybe he would marry you, but it was clear it was just not possible. “I’m at a fork in the road: leave the one I love and marry another, or stay with the one I love and never be married. But I cannot have both.”

“I am sorry, my dearest; I was too much of a coward to tell you. So I had the oracles speak the truth.” He looked at you as you stared at him. He was confused as to why you were not yelling at him from the moment you saw him. Even on your trip home, you were just calm, no anger. “I would understand if we must part.” He raised his hand, placing it on your chubby cheek.

“I have been unmarried for so long that I have been barred from much of society in my own polis. I see no reason to change it. I have come to terms with the prophecy since the very moment the oracle told me in the temple. I was naive to think I could marry a god. That I will admit.” His hand was still on your chubby cheek; he looked down at you, and his other hand was placed on your waist. He loved the way you were so soft in his hold.

“I am sorry.”

“I chose this life the very moment we met; I will live a life of solitude if I must.” There, his hand shifted down to your neck from your cheek, and he leaned down to you. He was a god, after all; he would clearly be taller than you and the other mortals. He took your lips into a soft kiss; his lips were gentle, almost quivering; in a way, he was fearing you would pick another man. Your lips are slightly parted enough to invite him closer. He pressed you against a wooden tree, his hand still on your soft waist and your neck.

His hand on your waist slowly lowered to your peplos, and he lifted it up. He moved it a bit and lifted it. His hand gripped your ass, his lips still moving against your own. He hated to show his worries; he hated that he fell for a mortal and could not marry them. He knew very well that his father would not agree to it; even if his father fell for a mortal, he knew the risks of being with them and would never approve of you. He sucked at your bottom lip, pulling away.

“I need you.” He whispered into your ear, and you nodded. He turned you around with his hand on your beautiful chub. He loved your rolls; he loved every single thing about you. To him, your beauty rivaled most mortals he has ever met. He fixed his skirt, and there his cock came out. He stroked it with one hand while the other caressed your ass. He played with your fat ass, and there he began to line himself up. “Take a deep breath, dearest.”

You opened your mouth to breathe in, and at that very moment, he shoved his cock into your cunt. You grabbed at the tree bark. Your hands tried to hold it, but all you could do was press against it. You cried out in the forest, causing Apollo to place his hands on your mouth and pull you back.

“We don’t want to attract the animals, dearest.” You nodded. His fingers slowly entered your mouth, and instinctively, you began to suck at his muscular fingers. His other hand is placed around your chubby tummy. He held you close, his thighs tensing as he thrust up into you. He was behind you, his head so close to your back. You could feel his breath against your skin. Each time he thrust into you, he had to fix your peplos, ensuring that your ass was bare so no fabric got in the way of his thrust. “So perfect, my dearest.” He whispered from behind you. He loved the way your mouth sucked at his fingers.

You continued to have him thrust into you from behind. Your back is against his chest. You two were being covered by the three in front of you, and if you shifted a little to the side, you could see the polis that have always hated you down the hill. You wondered if anyone could see you, but you did not care. All you wanted was to feel his cock going in and out of you. You felt so complete, and you loved him so much.

“Haah…. Uugh…” You found your moans to match the rhythm of his thrusts from behind. Each time he pulled out and pushed himself back into your pussy caused you to rip out sounds of pleasure. Your hands were still slightly placed against the tree, but in a way, you didn’t need to have your hands against the tree due to the position. You pressed your thighs together, and he lowered his hand from your chubby tummy to your thighs and spread them.

“You love this, don’t you?” You nodded desperately, drool now pooling from your mouth due to sucking at his fingers. He pushed you against the tree and bent you down harsher. He was no longer holding your ass, and he raised his other hand to your breast. He groped your breast, hidden behind your linen fabrics. He was enjoying the way your gasps and moans left your lips. He did not care that you two could get caught by animals. 

He smirked at the way you were so desperate, without even knowing you were pushing your ass back to him, wanting his cock to go deeper in your pussy. Your peplos were in disarray; your pins were shifted, causing a few to fall to the ground. His hands were now placed on your hip and your lower back.

“Yes, so good.” You cried out in pleasure, pressing your hands against the harsh bark of the tree. His hips continued to thrust, and he began to feel your walls clench against his cock. He groaned as he felt how welcoming you were. Your body was made for him, and his thrust began to get deeper and deeper. He was now becoming vocal; his grunts were louder than before. He loved you so much, and even if you two could never marry, he saw a future with you. He would love you despite the fact that you are going to age, and he will not. “Ah! Close! Ah!”

He smirked at the way you were so breathy; this was all he needed to feel at peace with you. His cock burried into your pussy and he was fucking you wherever he wanted. His thrust was still firm and deep, making you cry out. Your walls clenched even tighter around his cock, and when your breathlessness became incoherent mumbling, he knew you were so close. He himself felt it; his body tensed at the feeling of getting closer to the finish line. He felt his toes curl and thrust so deeply that his back arched and his head was thrown back with a loud groan.

As for you, you felt it hit you like a wagon running at full force toward you; your legs shook at the feeling of yourself orgasming. His cock was pulsing inside you, and as the feeling went through your body, you covered your mouth, trying to muffle the loud moan that ripped through you. Your legs failed, and Apollo made sure to keep your body up with his one arm. Despite your beautiful weight, you were as light as a feather to him.

“Careful dear.”

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Jump then Fall prt.4

Description: Aeron is obsessed with kissing Y/N and she's happy to oblige. A fluffy oneshot with no plot whatsoever following Aeron's love confession.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff with no plot. I embarrassed myself writing this 😂. Elizabeth loves The Princess Bride, which inspired this so I'm blaming her. Swearing. Female reader. I don't think there's anything else.

"Where are we going Aeron?" Y/N laughed excitedly as Aeron eagerly pulled her along. Aeron was sure no sweeter sound existed and he half turned to smile at her without slowing his pace, picnic basket swinging precariously in his free hand. He'd immediately whisked the basket of provisions from Y/N, before kissing her in greeting, grateful for her thoughtfulness. "You'll see, be patient my love." He delighted to see the blush that arouse on Y/N's cheeks each time he used that particular term of endearment, confirmation that he must affect her as she affected him.

Tugging gently on her hand as Y/N trailed behind him, Aeron wove through the underbrush, carefully moving rogue branches out of Y/N's way, to reveal a concealed pathway Y/N was surprised she had never seen before. At her quizzical look a ghost of a smile spread across Aeron's face. "Samwell and I came across it the other day. I think you'll like where it leads" he finished cryptically with a sly look. Y/n' eyes widened in alarm, prompting Aeron to look around for the source of her distress before pulling his eyes back to hers. "If Samwell was even remotely involved I'm not sure how safe this can be." Aeron took hold of both Y/N's hands, pressing them gently before leaning down to place a soft kiss to her forehead. "You can trust that I would never put you in harm's way, you are precious to me beyond all measure. Though Sam is admittedly an imp and not too be trusted." Y/N adjusted her hold on Aeron's hands to place them on her waist, moving hers to his shoulders instead. "I jest Aeron, I trust you." Aeron's mouth quirked back up, buoyed by her faith in him to protect her. "Good, then let's forget about Sam and continue on."

The knight and his lady followed the path for just under a mile, Aeron taking hold of Y/N's hand as it started to lead them downhill until they reached the bank of a brook. Y/N looked up at Aeron confused "is this what you'd intended to show me Aeron?"

Aeron chuckled, his eyes glittering with mirth. "No, although it is a pretty brook indeed. What I wish to show you is just across the water. There's a large tree trunk hat bridges the crossing, we can get across over there."  He pointed several yards away, Y/N following along after him as he started towards it. Grabbing the sleeve of his tunic, she brought him to a standstill just before they reached the log. Admittedly it was wide and seemed sturdy enough to bear the weight of a person, but Y/N's dress and shoes were not the most practical for ambling along a fallen tree trunk. She silently prayed to the gods that she wouldn't embarass herself by falling in the brook in front of Aeron. "My gown doesn't lend itself to balance, I'm afraid you'll have to help me walk across and promise to fish me out should I fall in." A look of horror crossed Aeron's face at Y/N's request which was only half-joking, as he began spluttering out a string of almost incomprehensible sentences. "Did you think? That I'd actually ask you to. Absolutely not! I promise you I thought this through entirely. I had it all worked out!" Not understanding where Aeron's alarm was coming from, Y/N cupped both Aeron's cheeks, softly brushing her lips against his, not quite a kiss but enough to halt his ramblings. "Now calmly tell me what you'd thought through?"

Aeron's expression turned somewhat sheepish his eyes flitting between her, his boots and a nearby tree. "It would only be if it was agreeable to you and you do not have to feel obliged. I would not want you to feel pressured in any way."

"You're still rambling Aeron and you're starting to sound like your incorrigible idiot of a cousin Edmund." Y/N snorted, trying to ease Aeron's nerves which had set him to stuttering as if they were back in that Banquet Hall several moons ago when he could barely string a sentence together in front of her. They'd always been able to have a good laugh about Edmund, the simpering peacock of a Bracken who constantly teased Aeron's favourite cousin, a quiet girl with her nose always in a book about knights and princesses. Aeron took a deep breath through his nose and straightened his back, rallying himself for whatever he was about to say. She wondered briefly if she should be concerned for his mental wellbeing. "I had thought I might carry you across if you permit it." His eyes suddenly bore into Y/N's and she felt her cheeks begin to burn at the notion of Aeron carrying her in his arms and her blush only further deepened when she fully registered that he'd wanted to. Aeron groaned and threw his hands up. "There now, I have embarassed you. I am an oaf, I admit it."

Y/N quickly reached for Aeron, pulling him back towards her, willing herself to be bold when she felt oddly timid and shy at his suggestion. "Would it not make it very difficult for you to cross safely with me hindering you?" Aeron gaped, equal parts surprised and gladdened that Y/N seemed amenable to his plan, opening his mouth and closing it several times before speaking. "You would be no burden at all to me." Y/N felt her heart flutter at his words. "And you promise not to drop me?" Y/N tried to add mirth to her tone but it was a genuine concern. Aeron brushed the back of his right hand against the side of her face before tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear. "I give you my word that I will never drop you." Y/N gulped. Her legs felt like jelly from his sweet words and they'd have to make a success of it as she was convinced she would certainly fall headfirst should she attempt to make the crossing on her own now. Aeron cleared his throat then, placing their picnic basket down on the ground to collect afterwards, and held his arms out to her. "If you could place your arms about my neck..."

Y/N awkwardly shuffled over and wrapped her arms around Aeron as he'd instructed, waiting for him to take the next step. Placing an arm around her back, he gracefully leant down to swoop her up by the backs of her knees, before pulling her close to his chest. Y/N's arms instinctively tightened around Aeron from the loss of contact with the ground and as he started to walk across the fallen trunk she began clinging onto him in earnest, catching his smile in response.

Gently setting Y/N down on the bank the other side of the brook, Aeron ran to retrieve their basket. The path resumed a couple of paces from the edge of the bank before it began to open up into a clearing, whereupon Y/N understood what Aeron had been so eager to show her since that morning. The meadow he had brought her too was vast and bedecked with Baby's Breath flowers. Blades of sunlight cast a golden glow over the flowers and an unseasonably warm breeze blew gently throughout the meadow. By the way Y/N's lips parted in awe,  Aeron understood that his surprise had had the desired effect.

He loved the way that Y/N's eyes shone with delight each time he would bring her a fresh bunch of flowers from the small patch they'd found as children in these same woods. Now he could give her a meadow of flowers. He stayed a pace back from the opening of the clearing with his hands clasped behind his back to watch Y/N's reaction to his offering. The gentle sounds of nature had little appeal to Aeron, not the singsong chirping of birds or the gurgling of the rushing water of the nearby brook. The sound of Y/N's laughter as she twirled in her meadow, her dress billowing out around her, was the only one he cared to hear. Amused by her antics, Aeron swiftly bounded up to y/N, taking hold of her waist with one hand and capturing her small hand in his other, sweeping her into a dance with him. Coming to a stop when they both started to stumble with dizziness, Y/N placed her hands on Aeron's elbows in an attempt to steady them both. "I Love it Aeron, thank you" she spoke earnestly, tenderly brushing loose hairs back from his face as she often did just to feel the softness of it and watch his eyes flutter closed st her touch.

Hours later, when the sun was just beginning to set, Aeron was gently grazing his hand over Y/N's ribcage over the soft fabric of her dress as they lay side by side, his golden cloak laid out beneath them. As Aeron cotentedly gazed upon her delicate features, Y/N leant down over him to brush her lips against his. Aeron's hands came flying up to pull her flush against him, one hand tangling in her hair, the other pulling her across his torso by her waist as he crashed his lips more fully into hers, deepening the kiss. There was nothing Aeron loved more than kissing Y/N. Ever since the fateful day he'd rescued her from those bastard Blackwood Knights when he'd first kissed her, he'd been like a man starved for oxygen, almost driven to distraction by the desire to feel her soft lips on his again and again. Gently turning them over, Aeron braced himself on his elbow so as not to crush her, one hand splayed across Y/N's torso. Breaking contact to allow her to catch her breath, he placed tender kisses along the edge of her jaw before recapturing her lips with his own, feeling her smile against his lips as she toyed with his hair.

A few moments later Aeron felt Y/N lightly push against his chest, immediately pulling away. "Are you well my heart, have I made you uncomfortable?" He asked anxiously. Y/N pulled herself into a sitting position, patting Aeron on the chest. "I am well my love, but the hour grows late and my father will be worried. We should head back." Aeron felt his face redden and his body heat as Y/N placed an affectionate kiss on the tip of his nose before she disentangled herself from his arms to stand, straightening her skirts. Aeron swiftly followed, interlocking their fingers together as they walked back from whence they'd come. "Will you come to watch me in the training yard tomorrow?" He asked, eager to have his lady love cheer him from the sidelines of the knights' training yard, as she often did of late. He had never been so dedicated to the sword and his duties as a knight but they granted him endless opportunities to impress Y/N, who swung their joined hands to and fro as they walked. "Of course, a lady should support her knight after all." Aeron removed his hand from Y/N's hand to wrap it around her waist, pressing her against his side, wanting to be closer to her and to express his gratitude for her unfaltering support.

Carrying Y/N back over the log that bridged the brook, an empty picnic basket dangling from his elbow, Aeron felt the happiest he ever had. He was finding a place for himself as a knight, beginning to feel that he truly did belong in the order. The Blackwoods had been surprisingly quiet, with very few disputes on the borders of late. For this he was grateful, for he'd become aware of his favourite cousin's concerning penchant for dissappearing to her own Brackentree dangerously close to Blackwood lands. His Lord Uncle had made no further mention of betrothing him to a Tully girl since the day he'd stormed from his halls, and he was quite sure he'd forgotten the whole matter. Above all else, he now held the girl he loved in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder, nose brushing his neck, and his heart was warmed by her trust in him.

@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress

[mechformers]

Ma Miles - Ch. 15

7k words

Chapter warnings: Injuries, depictions of wounds, blood, Mo'at's mind is dirty, the reader is giving Quaritch a "sponge" bath (I swear, I tried my hardest not to make it...sexy), soiled underwear (I'm really so sorry, but the guy's been unconscious for quite a while - I don't make the rules lol)

I'm a day late, I'm so sorry... Thank you so much for leaving comments, though! It's my absolute weakness and it makes me so incredibly happy to know what you're thinking and feeling. So really, thank you so much!

(If you want to be tagged with the updated chapters, please leave your @ myusername in the comments! ) Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 16

The worst was not behind you. In fact, the worst stood right before you in the form of your worst nightmare come to life. You hadn’t been long in the air on the second day when a screeching sound of an obviously distressed ikran called in the distance, only for Hawnu to call back to it, responding to the call. Your ikran sent worrying emotions through your bond but it wasn’t before the other ikran came closer, and you recognized it, that you understood why. 

Cupcake flew toward you, her distressed, desperate screeches almost painfully loud as she flew in circles before you. She was still wearing the heavy armor that the sky people had adorned the ikrans with. It seems to have been ripped in places by something big and strong enough to inflict such damage to an ikran. Hawnu chirps at Cupcake, before changing direction, silently asking you to bear with him through the bond. Putting your hand on his neck, you shift Neteyam’s weight against you before turning your head to look at Mo’at. The older woman just nods, her expression one of surprise, yet…not? You don’t have time to wonder what it was about as Hawnu picks up altitude before rounding a corner you knew all too well. 

Looking to the other side of the cliffs, you gasped at the forest view that plagued your dreams as much as it soothed you. The what if’s had been spinning around in your mind for weeks, never leaving you alone for long enough to find rest. Would things have turned out differently if only… Hawnu lands on the edge of the cliff, his powerful wings folding forcefully as he steps further from the edge before lowering down. Already, you can see the Na’vi laying motionless a few yards away. While Mo’at and her ikran land, you steel your nerves before absentmindedly breaking tsaheylu with Hawnu. Securing Neteyam on his back, you look back at Mo’at before stepping down. In the back of your mind, you already know who it is.

A heavy weight settles in your stomach as you approach the demon. He’s lying on his side by the tree line, the shadow just barely covering his body. Turning the demon around on his back, your heart clenches painfully at what you see. The demon’s face is swollen, blood long since stopped running, the fluid caking over where gravity had led its trail. The cuts littering his body are just as swollen as those on his face are, the infection has long since started. He’s too pale, his breaths shallow and his body alarmingly thin compared to how massive he had been only a few weeks past. Beside him, rotting meat and fruits lay all but untouched. Cupcake had obviously tried to fend for him alone, the ikran most likely with him when... 

“Does he live?” Mo’at asks, her voice clipped, almost emotionless. 

“Yes,” You confirm, your own voice hard. “He’s badly hurt,”

You say it more as an afterthought as you rise. Looking around the cliff clearing, you try to collect your thoughts, try to decide what to do. In reality, it shouldn’t be a question at all, not after what he had done to your son, to you - to the Na’vi people and Pandora. Leaving him here would mean death. Of that, you were fairly certain. If he was this close to his home without the sky people having picked him up, it would mean that he truly had no one else than Cupcake to take care of him. 

Turning your back to him, you walk back to Hawnu. The demon had caused all of this, had brought this on himself. Eywa was ready to accept him into her warm embrace, but he had rejected her and all of her children in the worst way possible. Getting up on Hawnu, you spare him one last look, seeing how Cupcake moves closer, nudging his motionless body as she chirps at him. His body is all but lifeless as he flops around to his side. 

Shouting angrily to the skies, to Eywa, to… everything, you get off of Hawnu again. You can hear Mo’at’s approving hum as you all but stomp over to the demon. Rolling him over to his back again, you take your knife and start cutting at the armor-like coverings he’s wearing. Huffing to yourself, you wonder what good it is when the material gives way too easily before your knife. You fumble a bit with the big chest piece, even though you had watched the recoms take them on and off before. Having removed all weapons and armor from his body, leaving the demon in his tight-looking little tweng, you try your best to sit him up before hoisting him over your shoulder. 

It’s almost impossible, his sheer mass, although he’s grown thin, almost too heavy. You wobble your way over to Hawnu before falling to your knees when you try to put him down again. Kicking his deadweight off of you, a split second of fear strikes you at causing even more damage to him. The demon’s body just slides against Hawnu’s flank, however. Getting up to your feet, you walk over to Cupcake, trying to get a handle on how her armor works. It’s punctured in odd places, as if something had bitten her neck, but when you touch your finger to the holes, there’s nothing but firm skin beneath. The armor had obviously protected her, but it needed to go. 

Turning back to the discarded weapons, you take the big knife out of its sheath. Cupcake is surprisingly calm as you struggle to cut through the armor binding her. Only when the last piece of armor falls, does she screech loudly and spread her wings as she shakes her long neck. Her joy is enough to put a smile back on your face. Putting the knife back in its sheath, you stare down at it for a moment before bringing it with you, stepping over the demon as you reach for Hawnu’s bag. 

“Can you do anything for his wounds?” You ask Mo’at, noticing how she’s still staring at the demon. 

It is not lost on you how the story goes. You had been at hometree yourself during the attack, but when some people had fled with the first smoke, you had been lucky enough to have been grabbed, escaping the massacre that had followed. Your Olo’eyktan, Mo’at’s mate, had lost his life that day, and shortly after, Tsu’tey had followed. All thanks to the demon before you. 

“When Eywa spoke to me of change to come, I did not expect it to happen this soon,” Mo’at starts, deep in thought as she continues to stare at the demon, “That this change would be him…” 

She didn’t have to finish her sentence, you already understood, and why she had joined your journey suddenly became so clear. Mo’at had stayed behind when her family left the Omatikaya, the Tsahìk no doubt training her replacement for the day when she could join her daughter again. 

“How long have you known?” You can’t help yourself from asking, not even when Mo’at’s all-seeing eyes shift to you, pinning you down.

“Eywa spoke of a difficult change to come shortly before Neytiri and her family left the Omatikaya. I interpreted the challenge would be to let them go, but when you arrived with Neteyam still alive, the Great Mother showed me that the changes were still to come, that it would be the hardest challenge of my life,” The way Mo’at clenches her fist lest you understand just how difficult this was to the Tsahìk. “No challenge will ever be more difficult than the demon, Y/n,”

“No medicine will help him in this state. The demon will need to be cleaned.” Mo’at hums cooly before looking at Neteyam, “Your ikran cannot carry his weight in addition to the two of you. My grandson will fly with me,”

There’s nothing you can say about that. She is your Tsahìk, your clan’s spiritual leader, and therefore the one in charge. What she says goes. Walking over to Neteyam, you’re grateful that the young man sleeps well.  They would need to find a place for him to rest soon anyway, so you might as well search for somewhere safe to stay for the night. The demon would, undoubtedly, need a thorough cleaning with the way he stank and his wounds caked with old blood and puss. You just hoped he wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. 

Carrying Neteyam over to Mo’at, helping her lift the young man up to sit in front of her on the ikran, you turn back to stare at the demon again. His heavy mass had been daunting the short distance you had carried him over to Hawnu, but to actually lift him to sit astride your ikran would be a nightmare. For a second, you wondered if hauling him over Hawnu’s back would be alright, but you quickly cast that idea aside. For some unfathomable reason, you had decided to help the father of your son, and help him, you would. It still didn’t mean you had to be happy about it, but at least you could look Spider in the eyes and say that you tried. 

Sighing deeply, you pray to Eywa for strength as you pull his arms over your shoulders, hoisting him up to lay over your back. On wobbly legs, you manage to rise high enough to lift his leg over Hawnu’s neck, but as you try to push, the sheer mass of the demon slides down your back instead, his weight too much for you to hold back. Like a bag of seeds being dropped to the ground, the demon coils into a heap as he hits the ground. 

Growling, you bend down to harshly pull on his stupidly heavy arm. The demon is impossibly heavy, impossibly long, and stupidly uncooperative in this unhelpful state of his. Eventually, you manage to drape him over Hawnu’s back, his long legs dangling on each side as you try your best to balance him on Hawnu’s back, only to realize that he’s sitting the wrong way around. Hissing with annoyance, you step up on Hawnu’s back, shoving the demon back as you take your place. Balancing his body you push your legs beneath his, grunting at the added weight it brings to your own balance. In the end, the demon is all but sitting in your lap, his massive body held against yours. Making tsaheylu with Hawnu, you beg for his forgiveness, asking him to be strong while you try to balance the demon’s weight. 

Looking back at Mo’at and Neteyam, you signal that you’re ready to move. The smirk on Mo’at’s lips is not lost on you, nor is the raised eye when you huff at the demon as his head slides down your shoulder. He stinks and it pains your nose to have him this close to you. Taking off after Mo’at, you wobble slightly to find your balance until Hawnu manages to stretch his wings in the warm midday air. You needed to find a safe place to stay for the night, somewhere, preferably, close enough to a pond. But proximity to a pond also meant proximity to predatory animals in the woods. You would need Hawnu’s help to both get the demon up and down from a fitting tree. 

Following Mo’at, you let your mind wander to the demon in your lap. On so many levels, you wanted to just let him slide off Hawnu, lean your head over to watch him plummet to his death, and shrug your shoulders as you continued on your way. But you knew that this was your bleeding heart talking to you, its bruises fresh as the gashes bleed uncontrollably. You don’t even want to think of the reason why, but the thought springs forth anyway. 

During your months as the demon’s captive, you saw a side to him you hadn’t expected. Qualities that spoke straight to your heart, to your mind, and most importantly, to your soul. It was a young girl’s foolish hope to deny it any longer. You had fallen in love with the man in your arms, fallen in love with the father of your child in the most horrible of conditions. Yet, if you really dug deep, you couldn’t regret it. The man before you had such potential and you could only guess that it was what the Great Mother had seen in him when the atokirina had embraced him in his entirety all those months ago.

You don’t notice how your hand finds its way up to cup the back of his head, holding him protectively closer, nor the way Mo’at’s smiles as she looks back at you. Deep in your thoughts, there’s only you and him, fighting your way through the wilderness of Pandora to get to your son. There is no betrayal, no harsh foreign words as he takes your son away from you for a second time, there’s no anger and disappointment over making your son cry. There is no burning of innocent villages or killing of sacred animals.

A sharp whistle pulls you out of your musings, however, Mo’at gesturing for a descent toward a mountainside. Confused, you follow the older woman’s lead. Looking back you were relieved to see that Cupcake followed your lead, still flying close to Hawnu. Your confusion, however,  only increases when, upon landing, you’re met with nothing of significance. There’s nothing there but the wild beauty of the Great Mother. 

“Send your ikrans away,” Mo’at hums as she breaks tsaheylu with her own ikran before gathering Neteyam in her arms and siding off. 

Following suit, you ask Hawnu to stay safe and to watch over Cupcake, before clumsily sliding off of his back while balancing the demon. Leaning him over your shoulder, you back up until his long legs slid off of Hawnu and his full weight rested on you. Grunting, you fold your arms under the demon’s bottom, careful to slide your hands under his tail so as to not put pressure on it. Hawnu doesn’t need to be asked twice before taking off, his mighty wings spreading as he lifts off of the ground, cupcake and Mo’at’s ikran following his lead immediately. 

“Come,” Mo’at calls to you, the older woman already moving toward the mountainside. 

Walking with the demon hoisted over your shoulder like this is difficult. You’re not the strongest Na’vi, neither warrior nor gatherer. Your contribution to the clan never depended on your physical strength. Still, you put one foot in front of the other as your thighs burned under the demon’s weight. 

“What you are to see stays between us, child,” Mo’at turns to you, her expression one of stony seriousness, making your spine straighten as you nod your head in understanding. 

Giving a minute nod of her own, Mo’at shifts Neteyam in her arms before turning back to the mountainside. Stepping up to the vines climbing up the rockside she reaches into one of the small pouches on her hips with one hand. There’s a powder-like substance in her hand when it emerges and you watch with big eyes as she blows the powder over the vines, the flora glowing brightly before pulling back from the rocks, creating a door to what hides behind. 

“Do not touch the vines. They are poisonous,” Mo’at’s clipped voice calls as she enters the tunnel that has just been revealed behind the vines. 

The passage is small, meant for only one to pass through, but as you maneuver both yourself and the demon though, you move slowly to ensure that neither one of you touches the vines. What greets you once you pass through the dark opening is nothing but a narrow, dark passage. Still, you follow Mo’at as she continues to walk further into the tunnel. It continues for a long while, the temperature dropping the further into the tunnel you walk. The scent of moist cave increases and just for a second, you let yourself doubt your Tsahìk. But like everything else, your doubt is unfounded as the tunnel suddenly opens up to a huge cave. Before you, bioluminescent light awakens as you step further into the cave, the huge space waking to life as it reveals its wonders. 

“What is this place?” You hear yourself ask, wonder and awe icing every syllable of your words. 

“This is a sacred place, one of many hidden, only to be shared between Tsahìk for safe travels or spiritual guidance,” Mo’at hums as she places Neteyam’s still sleeping body up against a rock. 

Stepping further into the cave, you let your eyes wander over the illuminated walls to the right, following its lights until they rest on smaller illuminated cups of water, steam rising from the surfaces. On the other side of the cave sat what looked to be a couple of nests, the blankets removed as if the place had been unused for quite some time. To your left, a cooking area was made, the firestones neatly laid in a circle under a pot. The cave had everything one would need, but what truly took your breath away was the huge pond before you, its round surface nestled up against the rock wall. It was huge and when you stepped up to it, you could see that it continued underwater and further into the mountain. 

“You should wash the demon,” Mo’at speaks up as she fluffs a folded blanket before laying it down on the closest nest. “The cups over there are heated, the water changes with the current underneath, so don’t drop him,”

Once more, you feel the sheer massive weight of the demon on your shoulders, his presence momentarily forgotten as you inspected the cave. Now though, your shoulder burned as you tried to gently put him down, failing miserably when the mass of his body came rushing down once his weight was shifted. His bottom hits the ground hard and you hiss in sympathy as his tail takes the full force of his descent beneath him. Stretching, you look down at him, wrinkling your nose at the state of him. He’s soiled and downright disgusting where he’s discarded, his tweng beyond ruined where it holds onto his narrow hips for dear life. Cleaning him would be a nightmare.

“There are some spare clothing stored in the cave, but I do not know if any of them will fit him. The demon is quite big,” Mo’at calls from behind you, still fussing over Neteyam, changing his wound. 

Making sure that the demon won’t fall into one of the cups of water, you walk over to Mo’at, moving to the chest she points at. Opening it, you’re met with different kinds of clothing. There are capes, chest pieces, twengs, and leg protectors. They’re all in different sizes, but the demon is huge. Although his waist is narrow, it’s still thicker than any Na’vi you had ever seen, the sheer mass behind his body making him bigger than usual. Neither of the twengs you held up would fit him, his big bottom would be taking up most of the cloth, giving him little protection. But then again, the tweng he wore now offered no front or back cover so maybe it would be alright? 

Picking the longest tweng, a deep green with leather straps, you hold the cloaks up, hoping that one of them would be big enough to cover him. Eywa smiles upon you when the very first cloak you hold up turns out to be a broad and long one. Happy with the choices, you neatly place the other items back into the chest, bringing the tweng and cloak with you. However, when you approach the devil once more, the daunting realization of what you have to do dawns on you. It’s been many years since the last time you’ve had to clean a soiled tweng, and back then, it had been your son’s small toddler tweng. 

The man before you was certainly not a toddler and certainly not small. Hesitating, you look pleadingly back at Mo’at, hoping that she might show you mercy this once. As a healer, she surely must have dealt with this before, right? However, when your eyes meet, the older woman shakes her head firmly before getting back to whatever she was doing in the cooking area. Sighing deeply, you close your eyes as you once more ask the Great Mother to lend you her strength. It doesn’t work… When you open your eyes, the demon still lies there motionless and dirty.

Clenching your jaw, you put the new clothing down a safe distance from the cups of water before you kneel before the demon. Turning him over on his side, you try to look for the fastening of his tweng, but after a while, it becomes clear that there are none. Much like the demon’s leg coverings, his tweng does not have straps to hold it in place. Grabbing your knife, you cut his tail free before you turn him over on his back once more. Taking hold of the impossibly soft material, you cut the first leg free before moving over to the other, closest to you. 

It’s not lost on you how his bare body would be revealed to you without his consent, on how you would see his bare form for the very first time in a situation like this. But he could not stay in the state he was in. The alternative would be to tell your son that your stiffness cost his father his life when it easily could have been saved, had you not been so shy. Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you let your knife slice through the material, bending it back and pulling the twengs down between his legs. 

“Hmm… not bad,” Mo’at hums from behind you, her face clouded with impressed humor as she stares at the demon. “Here, you will need this to lean him,” 

Taking the bowl and cloth from her hands, you put them down by the cup of water closest to you. Removing your own tweng and chest piece, you step into the water sighing with relief as the warm water soothes your nerves. For just a moment, you let your eyes wander over the demon’s body, his powerful muscles still impressive, despite how thin he had grown. Your gaze followed as his massive chest rose and fell with each shallow breath he took, his stomach moving as it caved between his ribs and hip bones. His thighs went on for ages, making way for his incredible height, where he towered over most Na’vi. The gift toe on each foot made your ears twitch. Although you were used to the extra digits from having Spider, to see the adult Na’vi version of it made you stop for a second. 

Sighing, you grab his ankles, gently pulling him inch by inch into the cup of water. His heavy body forces you to use everything you have to be able to pull him in, but slowly his knees rest on the brim, his legs dangling into the hot water. Clenching your teeth, you look up over the rest of him, dreading how the heaviest part of him still remained. This time, however, you were unable to stop your gaze from landing on the demon’s genitals. Immediately, your cheeks heat at what you see. You’re unable to keep the gasp from leaving your lips as your eyes grow big with intimidated shock and curiosity. The demon was, indeed, big. Even in his rested state, his member nestled heavy and thick in the crook of his hip, his testicles full and big beneath. 

Averting your eyes, you’re met with the knowing shrug of your Tsahìk, the older woman’s smirk bringing you even more embarrassment at getting caught. With cheeks burning, you reach for the demon’s hand, pulling him sideways until he is ready to tip over into the water. Stepping forward, you lift his arms to rest over your shoulders before pulling him in. It’s not ideal, the demon’s height and weight immediately pulling you down with him as the rest of his body follows. Gasping you hurry to keep his head over the water, spreading your legs to hold his weight as he drapes over you. 

Locking your arms around his waist, you breathe heavily as you let the moving water do its thing. Distantly, you wished you had something like this at home, the constantly shifting water bringing fresh, hot water to the surface as the dirty water disappeared. When you deemed the demon to have soaked long enough, you clumsily moved over to the edge to grab the cloth and bowl that Mo’at had offered you. Immediately, you recognize the strong scent of soap. Dipping the cloth into the water, you squeeze it gently before dipping it into the bowl. Gently, you let the cloth drag over the demon’s shoulders, letting the lazy studs form before being washed away again. 

Inch by inch, you clean the demon’s back. Pushing your thigh between his legs, you gently lean him back until his head rests on the brim and he’s spread out before you. All too gently, you wipe at the crusted blood on his face, wincing at the swelling as fresh blood bubbles forth, only to slide down his slack face. He looks almost gentle while his face is slack with sleep and it reminds you of how his face should have looked, all nuzzled up and content as he snuggles close to you. The thought makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest, your ears flattening against your skull as you wince. 

Dipping the cloth into the bowl of soap, you continue to clean the demon, letting the studs gather over his arms, his chest, his torso until there is only one area that remains. Steeling yourself, you take a deep breath as you dip the cloth into the bowl of soap once more. Resting both of his arms over the brim of the water, you grab the cloth while cupping the demon’s member in your hand, bringing it down. Guiding the cloth, you clean his privates, making sure to get every crook and cranny as you lifted his tail out of the way. In the end, the only thing that remained was to hoist him up and out of the water. 

Which proved more difficult than you had first anticipated. In the end, after the demon slides you both back into the water, Mo’at offers to help. With an arm in each of your hands, the two of you manage to drag him out of the water. Sitting down beside him, you breathe heavily as Mo’at walks back to Neteyam, the older woman chuckling as she mutters to herself. Getting your breath back in your lungs, you take the offered blankets that Mo’at holds out to you. Picking a nest a little further away, you place the blankets around in a comfortable manner before stepping over to the demon again. 

Lifting him up while wet was even more difficult, but you managed to bend him over your shoulder as you wobbled your way over to the nest you had prepared. Gently laying him down in the middle, you take one of the blankets and start wiping his body down, drying off what little water remained. Holding up the tweng, you roll him over on his side as you place the leather over his hips. Binding it around his tail, you fasten the fabric before placing it comfortably between the demon’s cheeks. Rolling him to his back again, you gently cop his member and testicles as you drape the fabric over them, making sure to pull them back as you fasten the fabric to the front. Tightening the leather, you step back out of the nest, walking over to the cup of water to put your own tweng and chest piece on. 

When you finish, Mo’at is already sitting by his side, binding his wounds in paste and leaves while she chants silently. Something you didn’t know you were holding back shifts inside of you as relief washes over you. Turning her head, Mo’at looks at you with a knowing expression on her face. 

“Come,” Mo’at gestures with a shift of her head, “You should learn how to do this,”

And just like that, you find yourself learning how to dress the demon’s wounds, learning what to apply where and which salve and paste to use. Smiling to yourself, you enjoyed learning about this, enjoyed the fact that you now would know how to help if it ever was needed again. 

“What makes Neteyam sleep like this?” You find yourself asking when you’ve finished and Mo’at has approved of your work. 

“I mixed a sleeping paste with his food to make his travels easier. I had not expected our journey to be interrupted so soon,” Mo’at replies as she lays down beside her grandson, “The Metkayina clans are not too far from here. I had hoped to reach Awa'atlu tomorrow before eclipse,” 

“Do you know the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk?” You ask while sitting down beside the demon, looking at him while he rests. 

“I do,” Mo’at looks at you, studying your face as she thinks. “They assisted Jake Sully after the attack on hometree. Toruk Makto gathered what clans he could reach before the sky people came for the Vitraya Ramunong, before he came,” She points at the demon. 

“Did they know each other, is that why they’re arguing?” You find yourself asking, flinching when Mo’at narrows her eyes. 

“The demon was Jake Sully’s leader when he first came to us. They wanted what was in the soil, beneath the hometree, and once they got that, they wanted more. But it did not seem as if the demon wanted anything other than Toruk Makto,” Mo’at starts, her face getting a far-off stare. “Jake Sully betrayed the sky people to be one of us, to protect the people and Pandora. This Colonel Miles Quaritch did not like that,”

“I’m sorry, “ You don’t know what else to say, “Is that why Neytiri never accepted Spider?”

“My daughter holds great anger for the demon. He caused the death of her father and the death of so many more than Eytukan. Spider is the son of the demon, yet he is your son,”

“Spider is nothing like the demon,” You hiss, your ears snapping back close to your skull in defense. 

“Spider is Omatikaya, Y/n,” Mo’at shoots back with such strength that it makes goosebumps spread over your skin, “Yet, he cannot deny his parentage. He has a foot in both worlds, it yet remains to see if it will be his strength or downfall,”

Closing your eyes, your tail wraps tightly around your thigh in an attempt at comforting yourself. I don't work. You want your son, you need to know that he’s safe, that he’s not hurt or lonely. Although Neytiri did not care for him like she would a Na’vi-born child, you knew that he was safe with her and Toruk Makto. Lo’ak and Kiri were with them and so, Spider would not be lonely. Sighing deeply, you open your eyes to stare at the demon. He had caused so much suffering and pain, and yet, here you were; taking care of him, nursing him back to health. 

“Trust the Great Mother, Y/n, she will guide the way,” Mo’at speaks before fluffing a blanket, “Everything happens for a reason,”

And just like that, the older woman lies down to sleep, leaving you to stare at the demon alone. Sleep doesn’t come easy that night. As you stare at the demon, your mind wanders the memories of your time together, analyzing, remembering, soaking up the hurt and pain, and when you woke again, your heart felt heavier than it had been for quite some time. You went through changing his wounds with Mo’at by your side, surprised to see the swelling and infection already starting to heal. You feed him enriched fluids, helping him swallow the small amounts of liquid before eating something for yourself. Packing up, you clean and put away what you had used before once more hoisting the demon up over your shoulder. The trek out of the cave this time felt longer and heavier than the previous night. 

You don’t struggle as much as you did the previous day when getting the demon up on Hawnu’s back, getting settled easier than before. You drape the cape over the demon’s shoulders in an attempt to protect his body from the unforgiving sun and the cold air as you flew. Smiling, you huff a small chuckle when Cupcake wanders over to smell the demon’s body, obviously approving when she chirps at you. 

It’s not until the first break that Neteyam awakens, the young man’s eyes widened as he realizes what his grandmother had done. He was not pleased, Neytiri’s frown mirrored on his face as he grumbled at Mo’at for keeping him ”out of the game”, claiming that he was supposed to be a warrior. To the older woman’s credit, she doesn’t rise to his childishness, only waving him away as she helps you prepare more paste and salve for the demon. Too late, you realize what seeing the demon with them does to the young man. 

“What is he doing here?” Neteyam hisses and it’s the most venomous sound you have ever heard in your life, “Grandma?!”

“Hush child,” Mo’at barks, but it’s of no use. In a matter of seconds, Neteyam has grabbed a knife and is charging for the demon. 

Before you know what you’re doing, you’ve discarded the salve you were mashing into a smooth paste and thrown yourself protectively over the demon’s body. You’re just in time as Neteyam’s knife slices through the air, the blade nicking your skin as you manage to dislodge it from his hand. It’s not lost on you that had he not already been weakened by his wound, the knife would have gone straight through your arms and into your chest. 

“Step aside, Neteyam,” You hiss furiously as blood drips down your arm. 

“You’re protecting him?” Neteyam shrieks and the sound makes your heart ache because you feel his pain. 

Protecting the demon goes against everything in your mind, yet, your body had reacted before you even had time to register what was happening, your body instinctively knowing what to do before your mind did. 

“It is the Great Mother’s will, Neteyam,” Mo’at interjects, wrapping her hand over her grandson’s shoulder. “We cannot question Eywa’s choices, no matter how much we disagree with it,”

“He killed Granpa, he killed Sylwanin,” Neteyam hisses, and the words sent such an instant reaction through Mo’at that it made Neteyam step back. 

“Who says this, child?” Mo’at hisses furiously. 

“Mom and dad said that-”

“Your mother and father are fools, blinded by rage. The demon did not kill my mate. A piece of wood from the hometree did. And Sylwanin’s rage was what got her killed,” It looked like the words pained Mo’at to admit, but at the same time, it looked like something loosened inside of her as her face mellowed out. 

“The sky people have caused much devastation and sorrow, Neteyam, but they are not to blame for every bad thing that has happened. They are not to blame for every warrior's death or every accident that has happened, no matter how much we will it. The Great Mother has a plan for all of us and for some, that journey ends before others. I believe that’s why we were given the Vitraya Ramunong so that we can speak with their souls,”

“My Eytukan knows and accepts his death, knowing that Jake Sully will do what he can for the people. Sylwanin and Tsu’tey are reunited, finally together like they always wanted to. Their journey has ended while ours still continues,” Mo’at holds Neteyam to her chest as the young man cries, her eyes meeting yours as you stare open-eyed at her. 

“The path Eywa has created for us is not always the easiest, but it is the right one,” Mo’at finishes, and for a moment, you feel as if she’s speaking to you directly. 

Looking down at the demon, you stare at his peacefully resting face. The ugly bruises have all but disappeared, the swelling has almost gone too. His cuts still remain, but even they have scabbed over, the paste and salve Mo’at have mixed, working faster than you thought possible. Stepping away from the demon, you clutch the cut on your arm, relieved to see that it’s not deep. Wiping the blood away from your skin, you take some of the salve you had been mixing, hissing at the sting that it causes when you apply it. 

Turning your back to the others, you start the process of changing the demon’s bindings again, getting him ready for the journey ahead once more. You’ve just finished feeding the demon, helping him swallow the liquid when Neteyam moves closer, his ears pinned back against his skull, his tail wrapped tightly around his thigh. 

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He stutters, unable to meet your eyes, “I’m sorry,”

“How is your wound, Neteyam?” You decide to ask instead, smiling gently at him.

“It hurts, but it’s getting better,” He mumbles, still unable to meet your eyes. 

“When the demon took spider, I went after him,” You start, deciding that the young man deserved to know how you had ended up where you were today. So you tell him everything, tell him about how you had taught the unit the Na’vi way, told him how they had accepted Eywa in their hearts, about how their minds started to follow suit. You told him about how the Great Mother had embraced the demon, sending a sign so strong you could not deny it. And when you had told him everything there was to tell, you told him about how something had changed, about how everything fell to ruin and the events of the Metkayina had happened. It’s not lost on you how Mo’at listens in on the conversation, or how her tail flicks as she comes to her own conclusions, filling in answers to questions only she knows. 

“I thought they would go home after everything,” Neteyam mumbles, his gentle eyes finally meeting yours. “I thought they would bring us home, that we would stop running. I didn’t know they… I didn’t know they stayed behind,”

“It’s alright, Neteyam. Spider is safe with your family and now, your grandmother is with us. Everything is as it should be,” Smiling at him, you lift his chin with your fingers, chuckling lightly when his ears twitch with embarrassment. “We should get moving so that we can see them again,”

“I would like that,” Neteyam smiles and you pull him close, giving the young man a hug. It seems it’s what he needs when he melts into you, his arms wrapping around you so tightly it almost borders on uncomfortable. Cupping the back of his head, you kiss the top. “You’re alright,”

Packing up, you’re on your way once more, soaring through the warm wind as the breeze of the Metkayina area greets you. It isn’t long before there’s nothing but sea around you and then, in the distance, the island groups of the Metkayina clans. The closer you get, the more horrifying the realization is that the villages you’re meeting are the very ones that the demon in your arms burnt to the ground. 

As you fly past the first one, you can see they’ve started to rebuild, but it’s a small comfort as you fly past it. The next two did not fare any better, until suddenly, there were no more burnt villages. Your confusion only rises as Neteyam guides you through the island tribes until you reach a huge smattering of seawall terraces, the pools beautifully glittering as the Metkayina people go about their day. Awa'atlu is beautiful where it opens up before your eyes, the sandbanks in the see-through water making a soothing pattern from the skies. 

Circling back to the seawall terraces, you call to announce your arrival, giving the people time to gather and collect themselves before you circle back, preparing to land. As the Tsahìk, you let Mo’at take the lead as your ikrans slowly descend on the furthest sandbank where the people have gathered. Cupcake follows Hawnu as he spreads his wings widely to make for a gentle landing, his powerful legs supporting you as he touches down, quickly tucking his wings back to make room for Cupcake to land beside him. 

Breaking tsaheylu, you scoot back on Hawnu’s back while getting the demon’s heavy legs off of your own. Balancing the huge man on Hawnu’s back, you slide down from your ikran, your toes curling happily as they land in the warm, wet sand beneath you. Leaning the demon to rest over Hawnu’s back, you step away from him to follow Mo’at’s lead, watching how Neteyam is waiting for you while Mo’at greets the people and the Olo’eyktan as he steps forward. But before you manage to finish your greeting, a voice that immediately makes your knees buckle calls from just behind the Olo’eyktan. 

“Mom!”

Chapter 14 | Masterpost | Chapter 16

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Tagged by: @corvosattano @solstheimtxt @kyber-infinitygems @nightbloodbix @adelaidedrubman and @simplegenius042 this week thank you all so much!!

Tagging: @shallow-gravy @cassietrn @strangefable @stacispratt @eclecticwildflowers @poetikat @florbelles @direwombat @v0idbuggy @josephseedismyfather @theelderhazelnut @marivenah @josephslittledeputy @peppertheferalraccoon @neverthesameneveranother @strafethesesinners @clicheantagonist @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @roofgeese @confidentandgood @derelictheretic @trench-rot (no pressure) and anyone else with something to share :)

So now that I've spoiled the plot point of the scar on Jacob's chest via art work, guess I might as well share the scene where it happens (warnings for knifeplay and a scene where cutting someone sounds more like smut...if this ain't your jam, i'm sorry, feel free to ignore)

Saint Francis was utterly silent, so quiet only the sounds of the boughs of the trees rustling with the wind and the few calls of nocturnal animals outside could be heard. Deep in the darkness of the night there was only one light left on in the entirety of the building (as it was on most nights) and while Kit and Jacob would normally be busy at work, planning and preparing as any good soldier was known to do, tonight that was not the case.

Jacob lay sprawled out on the too small cot in the corner of the room, his arms folded behind his head, and eyes gently shut as Kit lay curled up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. Whatever formal agreement had been made between them had just been consummated for what would certainly not be the last time that evening. 

Her fingers trailed through the red hair on his chest, caressing gently over the scars and raised skin that tracked over and marred his flesh, her warm breath fanning against him until  she sat up on her elbow, his dog tags jingling together against her chest as she moved and brushed flowing waves of copper hair over to one shoulder.

“I was thinking, I still need to give you something too.”

He cocked his brow but didn’t open his eyes. “Oh yeah, like what?” he asked, voice thick with the heady fog that came as he relaxed during his refractory period. 

The bed creaked and her weight shifted from the cot, the springs relaxing back into shape only to squeak once more as she returned and straddled herself over his thighs, her weight pressing down upon him like an iron anvil of muscle.  

Opening his eyes he was met by her smirk and the blade of her hunting knife twisting between her fingers. “Just what d’you think you’re doing with that, kitten?” He asked with a cock of his brow and a too smug grin on his face.

Bringing the knife down against his skin, she dragged the point of it down from his throat to the breast bone, a long red scratch left in its wake and it was sure to welt. Scoring the skin across his peck, Kit rested the tip of the knife just above where his heart beat below. With a coy grin, her lower lip pulling between her teeth, she husked, “Marking what’s mine.”

Jacob shifted, sitting up on his forearms, his eyes widening as she pressed down with the sharpened edge of her knife, cutting through layers of skin. Hissing as his blood bubbled up to the surface, he bared his teeth as she slit through old scar tissue to carve her initials into his chest. 

Kit’s pale eyes stayed focused on him and the reactions he gave more than on her penmanship, her stare tracking every flinch and curling of his lip, every tightening of his jaw and flaring of his nostrils like she was trying to commit it all to memory. 

Looking down at his chest, between the streams of scarlet that flowed from him, he could make out the letters KC cut into him. There was no going back now, she already had his number and knew exactly who his heart belonged to. 

With a toss of the knife to the floor, she leaned down and kept her eyes on him as she braced her hands on his shoulders, licking up the blood that had spilled down the curves of his peck.  The way the light hit her, making shadows around her eyes, her icy stare peering out from the dark made her look more animalistic than human as her tongue lapped at him, collecting the warmth from within his veins upon it and then devouring it like a lioness at a watering hole. She had that same bestial quality to her that she had after tearing out a man’s throat and consuming him in her cage, that moment when he knew she was just like him.

Swallowing heavily, his throat bobbing at the intensity of the way she scrutinized him, he was captivated entirely by her and the way her tongue dragged across her lips staining them with reddened saliva until they were the same shade they became when she was under his thumb. His hand quickly flew to the back of her head, and collecting a handful of her hair in his grip, pulled her towards his mouth to kiss her. The salty, metal tang mixed in their mouths as he drove his tongue in past her lips and nearly lost his mind, willing to suffocate himself to taste more of her. 

Prying herself free of him, she smiled against his mouth and peppered his lips with gentle kisses. “You’re mine,” she whispered.

“Goes both ways, Kitty.”

“I know.” 

[nihils-trolls]

Of Gold and Shadows

context here

“C’mon, Ria. It’s just some old hive that got left to rot. Telling me you’re scared all of a sudden?”

“Shut up, Gaz. If I was scared, I wouldn’t’ve followed you out here, dumbass.”

A young troll prods his friend as they walk along a cobbled path lined with planted trees, long since forgotten and overgrown. It’s a windy- but otherwise quiet- night, moons high in the sky and peeking through the clouds overhead. A rather large piece of property once- this small valley appears thick with weeds and brambles; any other buildings that were here now drowned out in green and falling apart.

The two had heard tales of this derelict estate that was tucked deep into the mountain pass to the north, and that it was haunted by the lingering spirit of the old staff and its last owner. Fate unknown, body never found.  But of course, those are just rumors. 

“Oh, okay then. I’ll believe that. One hundred percent.” Gazram says with a sarcastic tone, to which Rianne replies with a slug to his shoulder.

In all honesty, neither of them thought there was going to be anything out here. But just a short way back, they’d found an old trail that led to where they are now. Visible just through the trees ahead lies a stately manor. Or, what would have been one maybe several hundred sweeps prior. 

The building is still standing despite the disrepair it’s in; the porch in front is falling to pieces, windows broken in, a large hole in the roof- the list goes on. From the outside, the inside seems to be in just as bad of shape. Empty for who knows how long, boarded doors and slanting floors.

“Yeesh, this place has seen better nights,” Gazram states plainly. “So what. You thinkin’ we just… march right in, yeah? See if we can catch anything weird?”

“I mean. What else are we gonna do? I still don’t know why I even came out here with you.” 

“I dunno. To leave that stuffy hive of yours and live a little? No harm in exploring.”

Rianne steps around broken boards on her way to the main entrance, Gazram following close behind. Unlike others they’ve seen, this door remains unbarred. A quick jiggle of the handle reveals it to be locked; however, the motion causes the door to swing inside slowly, revealing a moth-eaten foyer. Large, golden colored draperies line the walls, black rugs line the once elaborate wooden floors- stained with mildew and rot.

The both of them step inside, Gaz closing the door behind them. The vast room is intersected by a stretching hall spanning left to right, with two staircases at the back. Both lead to a balcony on the floor above that overlooks the space below. A chandelier sits fallen in the center- shattered glass scattered everywhere. 

“What do you think happened?” Rianne asks.

“What, to the owner?” Gaz pauses for a moment, ambling into the room further before answering back. “I don’t know. From what I heard, it was some sort of feud between rivals- and not  the romantic kind. Rich highbloods get into all sorts of weird dramatic bullshit, don’t they?

Oooh! Do you think there’s anything cool left behind? Or do y’ think looters got to this place already?”

Rianne just rolls her eyes, following and continuing to look around. “You told me this place is old n’ well known already, so I doubt it. But… look around. Don’t you think it’s weird that there’s no blues or purples? Anything even remotely on that end of the spectrum?”

He stops in his tracks for a moment before continuing. “A little, but that doesn’t mean anything- shit could’ve gotten stolen already… Maybe the guy just had a weird sense of style.”

“... You’ve got me there. I probably wouldn’t’ve built my hive like this…”

Rianne trails off, looking down a hall to her right. Gazram follows her gaze, and looks just as bewildered as she does. The hall is devoid of light other than moonlight filtering through the windows. It seems to stretch on much further than expected; almost seems as if the corridor itself skews and twists towards the end.

“... ‘specially not like this. You seeing that too?”

“Wish I could say I’m not.” he replies simply.

She peers into the shadows further down, hesitating to speak again. “I think I saw something else down there. I… I don’t know. Maybe we should leave?”

Gazram looks dumbfoundedly at her. “Ria, we just got here. You really gonna leave because a creepy abandoned hive is starting to get to you?”

“I just might.” she says.

“C’mon, there’s nothing here. This place is just falling apart at the seams… you really think there’s ghosts here?” he teases. Next thing he knows, she’ll be telling him she believes in magic, too.

Ria puts her hands on her hips, giving her ‘friend’ an unamused look. “No, but I don’t like this either way, asshole.  Y’know what? Have fun by yourself, getting injured in a shoddy building. I’m gonna go wait outside for you to be done with all this.”

Rianne then heads for the door- Gazram deciding to meander towards the twisting hall. “Fine, be that way. Just so you know, you might be waiting awhile.”

“Uh huh. And if I wait more than an hour, I’m leaving your sorry ass here.”

Jiggling the handle again, she remembers that the door is locked- and Gazram shut it the rest of the way. Sighing, she looks down to find that there’s no bolt keeping the door shut- no lock on this side either.

“... Gaz, did you do something to this door? If so, this isn’t funny.”

Turning on his heel to face her again, he gives Rianne a puzzled look. “No?”

The olive walks back over to the entrance, pushing her aside and attempting to open the door- and does so without issue. “See? It’s not even locked. I dunno what your problem is-”

Just as soon as it opens, Gazram is cut off by the door slamming shut of its own accord. The two turn to stare at it, shocked, and Gaz grasps at the handle to try and open it again. Unfortunately for him, it doesn’t budge.

“You cannot tell me that was ‘just the wind’-” Ria says, before being interrupted by her friend.

“I’m sor-ry, what do you want me to say? I don’t believe in ghosts, and I’m not about to because a door slammed shut spookily.” He quickly gives up the vain attempts to open it and walks away in a huff. “If the door won’t open, just bust open one of these windows and climb out. The rest are broken anyway.”

“... I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? You’re not that weak, I know that for a fact-”

“I mean I can’t!” Rianne yells, surprising even herself. After a moment’s pause, she sighs and looks out the window. “I won’t do it. I just… listen. I’m getting a really bad feeling- if we break anything in here, it’s not gonna end well.”

Gazram stares at the cerulean, now returning the unamused look from earlier. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Dead serious,” she hisses, turning to look back at him. “Let’s just… find another way out. There’s bound to be a back door, or hole in the wall somewhere. Fast, preferably.”

“Fine, but we’re going the way I was going to go before you called me over.” 

… Both move down the skewed hall at a slowed pace. The floorboards creak and groan underneath their steps, the sounds echoing throughout the corridor. Out of the several doors they’ve passed, only one was unlocked- leading to an empty room infested with roaches and black mold. 

“You’d think…” Gazram starts, “That with all the time and number of trolls that had to have been here, these doors would be busted open, wouldn’t you?”

Rianne thinks for a moment, putting a hand to her chin. “Yeah, actually. It’s kinda weird, isn’t it? I kinda expected this place to be in worse condition. And this hallway…”

“What about it?”

“Dude, we’ve been walking down it for at least five minutes. It didn’t look that long before, did it? This doesn’t even match what it looked like from the outside.” After saying that, she stops to look behind her.

The hallway stretches on for quite the distance. Back where they had started, Rianne notices a tall, pale troll standing in a long, white dress. After staring a moment, she notices darkened, mustard colored splatters on the dress- and that the figure is staring right back.

Stopping in her tracks, she grabs a hold of her friend’s arm. Whispering for him to look too. Glancing back to see the same, he immediately regrets not believing Ria sooner.

They don’t have a moment to react before a wall springs upwards from the floor and slams against the ceiling, blocking the hall off from the foyer. They jolt from the sudden ‘thud,’ and the first is followed by more as the very corridor itself seems to fold in on itself and shrink.

Still holding his arm, Rianne begins sprinting down the hall dragging Gazram behind her. Despite the collapsing happening behind them, the end never seems to be getting any closer to them. Gasping for breath, the two continue racing onwards- not having any other option.

Finally, she sees a bend to the left. Pulling the olive around the corner, the wall continues advancing- until it slams against the end in an abrupt stop. Ria collapses to the floor, attempting to catch her breath.

“What… the actual fuck… was that??” she says, exasperated. “Suuuure Gaz, tell me the place isn’t fucking haunted! Oooooh, ghosts aren’t real,” Ria continues mockingly, “Then you mind telling me what the hell happened?

And do not tell me we’re hallucinating from… from.. mold spores or any other shitty explanation. I feel pretty sober right now, and I hate it.”

“-Alright! Fine! I don’t know! What do you want, for me to say this was a stupid idea? Then yeah! I agree, this was a fucking stupid idea.” he argues. “How was I supposed to know that there would be fucking… supernatural bullshit happening here?”

Rianne holds her head in her hands, too frustrated and too scared to say anything back to that. Or, anything for a few long moments. But finally, she steels herself- getting off of the floor to stand.

Gazram continues while she does so. “Look. I won’t bother you about superstitious stuff anymore. So let’s just… keep going. Ignore any other weird shit unless it’s actually gonna hurt us, since it looks like our only way out is through.”

Scrubbing her face, Ria sighs and nods. “Yeah. Fine.”

The duo continues along, the end of the corridor being marked with a large set of heavy-looking double doors. More rooms lie along this stretch, with most of them being locked like the rest. Sobbing echoed out quietly from behind them, and neither Rianne or Gazram dared to look back. Not again.

Instead, they both push open the doors at the end, revealing a ruined grand ballroom with a high, vaulted ceiling. Stairs along either side of the wall lead up to another balcony, decorated pillars holding it aloft. It’s mostly empty, save for an old grand piano and a small orchestral stage off to the side. The back wall contains an enormous, elaborate window with two glass doors leading outside- their escape, hopefully.

Not wasting any time, Rianne begins making her way over to the back wall with Gazram following close behind. Upon their entering of the room, music begins playing from the grand piano- despite there being no one there to play. The sudden disturbance only hastens their steps.

Before the cerulean can open the door, both trolls feel a presence directly behind them. No longer off in the distance, stifled weeping can be heard- a voice softly speaking to them.

“Why can’t you just leave me be?”

Ria dares to turn her head back, ever so slowly. She is face to face with a ghastly figure, pale as bone with long, frazzled white hair to match. Her wide, haunted eyes were black like voids with golden irises. Yellow blood streaks and drips from her eyes down her face, stains covering the entirety of the elaborate, yet ruined dress she’s wearing.

“Get out.” the figure finally commands, a forceful gust of wind knocking the patio doors open and shattering them.

No longer frozen with fear, Gazram grabs a hold of Ria’s arm- dragging her with him as he hastily retreats out the open door. Now free of the manor’s walls, the two scramble around and back towards the path that led them here. 

Neither of them really felt like exploring 'haunted buildings' anymore. Or, ever again for that matter.

[deadnightcoffeetime]

The Monster Of Willow Creek (Tales Of Horror Segment 2) (COPY RIGHT) Page 5

Finishing texting now, she places her phone on the desk. Time passes by, and Alyana’s eyes starts to feel heavy and slowly closes. She falls asleep.

Alyana is running through a foggy forrest and dirt road. The sound of heartbeat increases, as a loud animalistic roar occurs behind Alyana. Not wanting to look back while running, instead, she out smarts the monster by tricking it. Quickly dropping to the dirt ground, Alyana sweeps her foot prints away, making the monster to lose track. Shen then, takes cover behind a tree, hiding from the monster. In the monster’s black and white vision, it continues to follow Alyana’s trail of foot prints through the forest. Moments later, it arrives at the end of the foot prints trail, notices there aren’t anymore foot prints. It looks side to side, animality roaring , and breathing heavy. The monster proceeds to walk as Alyana stood behind the tree, nervously shaking, and trying not to make any sounds. As son the monster leaves, Alyana slowly peeks out from behind the tree. She doesn’t see the monster on sight. The monster has completely vanished without a trace,. Slowly turning back around, she is startled, as the monster is standing behind her. Alyana awakens from her nightmare, breathing deeply. She checks the time, it’s 2 a.m. Having trouble to go back to sleep, she is bothered by it. Thinking if it was a sign, or just an ordinary nightmare with no meaning. She tries to sleep again.

It’s 12 p.m. on thanksgiving day. In a dark place, there are two individuals hanging. It’s the same individuals that Alyana saw on the morning paper, it’s Mathew and Tonya. Tanya awakens only to realize she’s hung up by her arms, and dangling. As she looks around, she sees Mathew next to her, he’s in the same situation. “Mathew, wake up!”, said Tanya. Mathew awakens. “Tanya, you okay? Where are we?”, said Mathew. “No, I’m not okay! I’m scared, and we’re hanging and dangling in some place that we don’t know!”, said Tanya. Mathew looks around, and sees mine trail tracks straight ahead. “I think we’re In an old abandon mine shaft.”, said Mathew. “A mine shaft?”, said Tanya. “Yes. It’s obvious, because of the train tracks In front of us.”, said Mathew. “I wonder why that thing we saw brought us here?”, said Tanya. “Beats me!”, said Mathew. Both are now smelling an unbelievable smell. “Ah, you smell that?”, said Tanya. “Yeah, it’s like something is rotting. Must be an animal, or something.”, said Mathew.. “Well, how do we get out of here? We’re both tied up.”, said Tanya. Mathew looks up above him, and sees a rusty old hook latch nailed on wood, that he’s being suspended by, and could be broken. He starts to rock back and forth, hoping it’ll loosen up the hook latch. Picking up momentum, he starts to swing fast and hard. The hook latch starts to loosen up, it breaks, causing it to make a loud thud noise. As Mathew falls to the ground the wooden ceiling breaks, letting pockets of sun light shining down on them. “Try to be quiet, you don’t know if that thing is out there!”, said Tanya. Mathew is still tied up by his arms, he looks around to find something sharp to gut off the rope. He sees a saw on top of a barrel, that is next to him. Grabbing the saw, he then places it in between Tanya’s legs. “Here, hold the saw with your legs, as strong as you can, so I can cut off the rope.”, said Mathew. “Hurry!”, said Tanya. Tanya holds the saw with her legs, as Mathew starts to cut the rope. Finally his arms are free, Tanya drops the saw to the ground. “Great, now help me!”, said Tanya. Now, Mathew starts to help out Tanya, lifting her body up, and out of the hook. On the ground now, Mathew picks up the saw, and starts to cut off the from Tanya’s arms. While cutting the rope, more of the wooden ceiling comes tumbling down, exposing more sun light to hit them. As Tanya’s arms are Fred now, Mathew’s attention has been caught by a disturbing scene. “I think I found the reason why it smells really bad here.”, said Mathew. “What?”, said Tanya. “Turn around and look!”, said Mathew. She turns around, only to see dozens of rotting, decaying corpses. Some corpses are half eaten, with intestines hanging out, missing pockets of skin and meat, and some corpse are pure skeletons with no meat. Horrified by the scene, Tanya covers her mouth and tries not to scream. An animalistic growling is heard from a distance, the monster has entered the mine shaft. “Shit, it’s here! C’mon, let’s find a way out of here!”, said Mathew. Escaping the monster’s corpse den, both can’t decide which way to go, left or right. “Damn! Which way?!”, said Tanya. The growling grows increasingly loud, letting Mathew and Tanya, know the monster is getting close. “Here, let’s go left!”, said Mathew. Taking the left, both are seeing more passages to chose, which frustrates them. Going left and right, soon after a few minutes gone by, both of them see freedom. “Look, a way out!”, said Mathew. The passage they’ve found, leads them out of the mine shaft. The animal is roar is now louder and more aggressive, the monster knows Mathew and Tanya has escaped. “Fuck! It knows we’re free!”, said Mathew. “Well, let’s go! Why are we just standing here!?”, said Tanya. Now running towards the exit, Tanya.trips on a track. Mathew quickly helps Tanya to get back up. “You okay?!”, said Mathew. “My leg! I think I pulled a muscle!”, said Tanya. “Can you still run?,”, said Mathew. Behind Mathew and Tanya, the monster has found them, but it’s hiding behind a wall in darkness.

[v-iv-rusty]

I have to stop getting attached to characters that only exist in one (1) item description

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 16) - Drowning

Summary: The reader’s night goes from bad to awful fast but thankfully Jensen shows up at the last second to stop things from getting any worse. But the guilt the reader feels over trying to end things with Jensen to protect him starts to become too much...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, being drunk, minor violence, scary situations, angst, fighting, fluff, offscreen death of minor character, anxiety, panic attack, minor injury

A/N: This chapter is a whirlwind! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

It was a close to an hour later and you were halfway through a bottle of bourbon, laying on the back porch of your mom’s house, staring at the rafters and debating finishing off the whole thing.

“Y/N?” you heard. Your skin crawled as you sat up, spotting your father at the other end of the wrap around. “Are you drunk?”

“This would be an appropriate time to tell you that yes, I am and I also have this,” you said, reaching behind your and picking up a hunting rifle. “I might be plastered but I think that’ll only improve my aim. I’ll be nice and shoot for your balls first.”

“You got so much wrong about me kid.”

You fired a shot near his feet and he held up his hands.

“Why don’t you go jump off a bridge or some shit,” you said.

“Y/N.”

You pulled the trigger as he took a step forward and he jumped when it hit the window nearby. You pulled again but it just clicked as he walked closer. 

“Your new momma never taught you that kind of rifle only has two shots, did she,” he said. You tried to stand but got way too dizzy and fell down. 

“Well I can still tear you apart with my teeth,” you said. 

“You’re drunk and judging by your face, very upset. What happened to that boy you were with? I didn’t see him when I looked around.”

“Touch me and that boy will rip your head off.”

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” he said, stepping far too close for your liking. You swung the rifle at him but he caught it and kicked the bottle away before you could get at it. “All grown up. Probably enjoy it now.”

You crawled back as far as you could, eyes darting behind him when you saw movement. You barely caught the brown hair and green eyes before your father was face first on the porch. You tried to stand but he yanked on your ankle and pulled you down hard. It took a long time to peel open your eyes again, your father now at Jensen’s feet. Jensen pushed down on his back while he talked on the phone to someone and it didn’t take long to hear sirens in the distance.

“For the record,” said Jensen as he walked over to you and crouched down, his belt around your father’s wrists, “I didn’t believe you for a second. Oh and you’re a dumbass but you’re my dumbass. Forever. Got it?”

“I couldn’t…” you trailed off. He nodded and took off his flannel, wrapping it over your shoulders. “I knew he would do something and I couldn’t have him near the kids or know they exist. I couldn’t-”

“I know, honey,” he said. “But don’t you dare ever do anything like that again.”

You put your head down sniffled, dizzy still as he rubbed your back before going back to watching your dad.

It took an hour or so before you could go home and you were sober enough to stand on your own. 

“Can I ask why you made the executive decision that you did?” asked Jensen, holding your arm loosely as you got into his car to head back.

“Because I’m stupid,” you said dryly from the passenger seat as he turned on his SUV.

“I mean more so why didn’t you come to me if you were scared? Why make up a lie?”

“You did let me go. You must have believed me at least for a few seconds,” you said.

“No, I actually didn’t.”

“You let me go.”

He was quiet until you got close to the brewery, Jensen pulling off onto the plot of land he owned next to it. You leaned your head against the cold window and he turned off the engine.

“This whole, tired, don’t talk to me attitude right now? Been there. Lived it. I know it’s bullshit.”

“You let me leave so you did believe me so-” you said, Jensen pressing a finger to your lips. 

“I am certain of very few things and you are one of them. I let you go so I could figure out what scared you so badly you’d lie, to me. There’s only one thing I can think of so before you even had a foot out of that house, I was calling people and I got put on with Detective Finn who worked your case as a kid and I find out that dick for brains sack of shit just moved practically down the street from us. It does not take a genius to put the pieces together.”

“Fine! I did it in some stupid attempt to protect you,” you said. You glared at him and he shook his head. “What?”

“I’m not gonna get mad at you.” You put your head back on the window and stared out to the dark trees, sniffling some. “Why do you want me to be angry with you?”

“Uh because I didn’t forget to turn on the washing machine or leave on a light. I lied. I lied so big that-”

“You lied to protect your family from a monster. Do I wish you had told me? Yes. But I fuck up so much and you’ve never once been angry with me for making a mistake and I’ll never be angry with you for making one either. I know you want me to be angry with you, feel like you should be punished for what you imagine is hurting me. But you didn’t hurt me, Y/N. You didn’t and I know you get that because so many times you’ve been on the other side of this and I know you’ve never once thought, oh yeah Jensen’s a piece of shit, let him really have it. No. Just no. So I’m not getting mad at you and I don’t know what to fucking say to make you feel better like you always do me and I’m so sorry he got so close to hurting you again. But I’m really good at fighting monsters in this family. So please next time, I don’t care if you’re scared of the bug on the wall or you think someone’s outside the house or what it is. If you’re scared, tell me and I’ll do my best to make it go away, I promise.”

“What do you do when you want to hate yourself for being an idiot?” you asked quietly. You heard him shift in his seat and you shut your eyes, the sound of a door opening and then another. Strong arms wrapped around you and you buried your face in his chest.

“I try to treat myself as kindly as she does. She would never hate me and she hates when I’m in pain. I see it all over her face. So I try to cut myself some slack and ask myself if she would hate me and when I realize no, I’m forced to forgive myself and it normally takes a few hours but it works pretty good. A lot of hugs and cuddling don’t hurt either.”

“Thank you for stopping him.”

“Don’t.”

“Thank you. I owe you so, so much.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing. We got each other’s backs and that’s all there is to it. I’m just sad I missed you trying to shoot his dick off.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Find my iPhone. Also I figured that was a good place to check,” he said. “I would have been here sooner if Jared didn’t drive like a tortoise over to the house to watch the kids.”

“I’m sorry I scared you...and you had to do that tonight.”

“Oh punching your father was a personal highlight for me. Trust me,” he said. He stroked your cheek and you turned into the touch, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re safe.”

“He’s going to get out on bail and-”

“And we have a very good lawyer. Oh, and I know the mayor so fuck his ass, he’s not getting bail.”

You buried your face once again and he put a finger under your chin, lifting it up.

“You’re still scared.”

“He’s gonna get arrested for what, trespassing? Attempted assault? I was drunk and shot at him. He can spin it. He can spin it and be out on the street like that.”

“I’m going to ask the lawyer to do something else, something that maybe can take care of that problem.”

“What?” 

“Once a piece of shit, always a piece of shit. He’s been gone for fifteen years. I have this bad feeling you weren’t the only one. Or even before that.”

“Or maybe he just hates me.”

“You don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna take care of it.”

“Jensen, I know you don’t have to worry about the money but it might still not be enough.”

“It’s enough,” he said. “Or else next time I’ll be the one with the rifle.”

“You would kill him?”

“Honestly? Yeah if it came to it. I wish people like him died in car crashes, not innocent ones. We have every right to protect ourselves and our family and I’m not letting him touch the kids or you ever.”

“I should probably say that’s bad but I don’t disagree.”

“Money works a lot. A real lot. Maybe he did something super bad and he can rot in prison forever.”

“Maybe,” you said, spotting a cruiser pull up nearby. 

“Stay here, sweetie,” he said. He walked over while the officer got out. He spoke to Jensen for a moment, Jensen’s face a bit blank when he turned around. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Your dad had a heart attack in the backseat,” said Jensen quietly. You cocked your head and he shook his. “Your father. In the police cruiser that was taking him for booking. He was just pronounced.”

“He died?”

“He was really overweight and didn’t look to be in the best health. He probably got his heart rate up too high and...the officer said he’d escort us home, stay outside the house for the night, calm our nerves.”

“He’s really dead?” you asked. You looked over at the officer and he came over, giving you a quick smile. “He really died?”

“Yes mam.”

“What...happens now?” you asked.

“We’ll file the report but you don’t necessarily need to press charges anymore. You’re next of kin as far as we’re aware so the body…” he trailed off when he looked at you. “We can talk about this with your lawyer.”

“Thanks,” said Jensen. “We’ll be on the road in a minute.” 

The officer climbed back in his cruiser, Jensen leaning against the doorframe. He tucked your hair behind your ear, letting out a deep breath.

“Y/N,” he said. He stroked your cheek, your head turning up. “What is it, honey?”

“I don’t feel bad at all. I’m actually happy. That kinda is freaking me out a little. You shouldn’t be happy someone died.”

“Most people you’re right, you shouldn’t. But there are exceptions. He tormented you. He harassed you. He came after our family. I’m gonna sleep just fine tonight knowing he’s never coming back in our lives.”

“Were you scared of him?” He ducked his head down and you took hold of his hand. “Jensen.”

“Put it this way, I’d protect my family by any means necessary. What scares me was what if I was five minutes later tonight. Ten minutes. My job is to protect you and especially from monsters like that.”

“I’m a big girl Jensen. You don’t have to protect me from anything.”

“Yes I do, just like if it were me in your shoes I know you’d have done the same exact thing. We protect each other. It’s not because I’m the guy or I’m stronger. You’re my family and that’s what we do.”

“Thank you for protecting me and forgiving me for being stupid earlier,” you said. He smiled and nodded.

“You’re my dumbass and I’m yours,” he said. “Want to go home now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

“He’s really gonna spend the night?” you asked half an hour later in bed, Jensen shutting the door after himself. “He knows there’s a cop outside, right?”

“What can I say, Jared...he thinks of you like a little sister,” he said. “I can’t blame him for being protective.”

“I’ll be right back,” you said. You climbed out of bed and went downstairs, the light dim aside from where Jared was reading on the couch, a blanket over his legs. He looked over the top of the book and set it down, sitting up.

“Everything alright?” he asked. You smiled and took a seat on the edge of the couch, pulling him into a hug. 

“Thanks for staying,” you said, a pair of large arms wrapped around your back. 

“Of course.”

“You do know there’s nobody to bother us now, right?”

“I know. Some peace of mind never hurt anybody though,” he said. “Go on back to your fiance. You guys had a rough night.”

“Yeah,” you said, closing your eyes. “Thanks.”

He kissed your temple and you returned to your room, Jensen pulling you under the covers. You let out a deep breath, turning into his side. 

“Here,” he said. He started to take off his bracelet but you shook your head.

“It’s yours, Jensen. I feel safe, I promise.”

“You’re tense still, honey.”

“Still working on that not being so angry at myself thing,” you said. He smiled and kissed you quickly, laying an arm over your waist. “I know what you said but I still want you to be pissed at me for lying.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But-”

“You didn’t hurt me, Y/N and you know what? Sometimes, you’re gonna hurt me and I’m gonna hurt you. We’ll have bad days and get annoyed with one another. I’ll leave dishes in the sink and make a mess of the closet. You’ll chew with your mouth open and never fill up your car with gas until it’s too low. We’re not perfect. But even if we do hurt each other, we forgive each other because that’s what you do. We’re not always gonna like each other and what we do but we’ll always love each other. I don’t want to be mad at you. I want you to feel safe and know that I understand why you did what you did. I do. Please try to let it go, for me.”

“I am trying,” you said quietly. You shut your eyes and turned away, his arm over you pulling you back against his chest. “You’re normal. I can’t just stop hating myself like that.”

“You think I’m normal?” he chuckled. “Me?”

“Did you ever have to punch Dee’s psycho father? Did you ever have to talk about protecting her? Did she ever put your family in danger? Did she ever-”

“Y/N.”

“Go away,” you said, pushing his arm off of you. You moved over farther on your side of the bed, tucking your covers under your chin. The bed shifted and you tried to move again but his arm pulled you straight back to his chest, fingers dipping under your ribcage and holding you in place. 

“I might not have had to have done those things for her but I would have. For the record, you didn’t put anyone in danger. That fucking asshole did. It is not your fault he was an evil and vile person. All you did was try to protect us because you were scared and I know, I know you didn’t tell me because you’re so scared of that man and I don’t blame you. He made my skin crawl and I interacted with him for all of five minutes. Get it out of your system however you need to but you are stuck with me forever. There is nothing you could do to make me want you gone so get used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” you breathed out. You pulled your sheets over your head, taking deep heaving breaths. “You have so much to worry about already. You shouldn’t have to…”

“Did you think I couldn’t handle the news?” he asked. “That your father was so close by?”

“I thought you’d hate me,” you whispered. He tugged down your sheets and you squeezed your eyes shut as he turned you around.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Now you’re angry.”

“Look at me.” You forced them open, meeting a soft face and sad eyes. “Why would I ever hate you?”

“My shit’s supposed to stay in the past. You don’t…” you said, Jensen furrowing his brow. “See, you’re mad.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Your shit stays in the past.”

“It means you’ve had the world’s worst fucking year and you’re in such a good place now and you need to focus on you and not have my shit come in and fuck that up.”

“Do you think I can’t take care of you?” he asked.

“No of course not.”

“It sounds like you’re saying that you think you can’t have problems cause I can’t handle it.”

“Well at least I got what I wanted with you pissed,” you said, glaring up at him, tears welling in your eyes. You tried to push away but he held his arm around you. “Jensen, let me up.” You pushed again and he glared right back. “Stop it. Let me out of bed.” He only glared and you tore your eyes away from his face. 

“Do you think I’m weak?”

“No,” you said, keeping your head low.

“Then why-”

“Because you need a fucking break. I dealt with this shit years and years ago. I understand needing a fucking break and people need to take care of you, help you. You’re a different man than the one I met way back in January. You’re so happy and healthy and you have a different outlook on life again and that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you for that. But you’re just, just out of the woods and I’m not gonna be the one that sends you back in because of my fucking problems.”

“They’re our fucking problems,” he said. “Our problems. There’s no your problems or my problems anymore. It’s us together. Why do you think I’d hate you?”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing on his chest. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“I said stop!”

“Tell me.”

“Because I’m scared,” you said. He let his hold go lax and you sat up, getting out of bed. You walked over to the balcony door and rested your forehead against the cool glass. The bed creaked and you felt his presence behind you. 

“You’re scared of me.” You scrunched up your face and nodded. “Why?”

“Because if you realized how fucked up I am, you wouldn’t come near me with a ten foot pole. I’m not supposed to cause you problems. I’m supposed to fix them, be there for you.”

“But I can’t be there for you. You assume I’m just a dick where it’s only me and my shit that we can work on right?” he said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Relationships go both ways, Y/N. I don’t expect you to take care of me for the rest of my life. You are allowed to need help too.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he said, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. He was frowning, his voice an octave higher if you didn’t know any better. “Do you honestly think I would have been angry at you if you told me about your father being in town? Do you?”

“I put the kids-”

“For the last time, you didn’t put anyone in danger,” he growled. “What is going on with you?”

“How many times do I have to say it, I’m not supposed to cause any problems!” you said.

“Yes you are! You, me, the kids. We’re all gonna have fucking problems sooner or later. Why do you think I’d hate you for telling me you had a problem, sweetheart?”

You fidgeted with the bottom of your shirt, looking past him.

“Something with your dad, isn’t it. Something got triggered in you after that phone call with the detective, didn’t it.”

“Call Ray. Tell him to come over,” you said quietly. He nodded and grabbed his phone, sending off a quick message before he was guiding you to sit on the bed.

“Honey,” he said when you pulled away from him. “Okay, no touching. Can I get you anything while we wait for Ray?”

“Probably should tell that cop that we’re expecting someone,” you said, rubbing your hands against your thighs. “Fuck, tell Ray it’s the help thing. He’ll understand.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod. You rubbed your legs harder and he stared at you. “Y/N.”

“I’m trying not to have a panic attack,” you grit out. “I haven’t had one since I was eight.”

Your head was turned and you felt his hands on your cheeks, Jensen forcing a smile. You stared for a long beat before you took a breath, his head nodding. 

“That feels better,” you said, your hands not rubbing so hard. You heard feet and the door open, glancing behind Jensen to catch Jared in the doorway. You could feel your heart rate pick up, Jared nodding.

“I get panic attacks too,” he said. You nodded and Jensen glanced over his shoulder. “I heard arguing.”

“Can you tell that cop outside Ray is coming by and to let him in?” said Jensen.

“Sure. Who’s Ray?” asked Jared.

“Her mom’s old boyfriend and foster dad. He was her therapist when she was little. Something’s not right,” said Jensen.

“I’ll send him up as soon as he gets here.”

You felt calmer by the time Ray was walking in fifteen minutes later in sweats and not much more. 

“Hey kiddo,” said Ray, giving you a quick hug before he squatted down in front of you. “Doing okay?”

You shook your head and shut your eyes, Jensen holding an arm around you. He explained what happened, Ray staying quiet. You eventually opened your eyes to stare at the floor, Ray standing and pulling over the bench from the end of the bed to sit on. 

“Y/N do you want Jensen to stay?” he asked. You nodded and he hummed. “Y/N.”

“Yes,” you said dryly. “Can I have some water?”

Jensen got up and retrieved a glass from the bathroom, the pair of them watching you chug half of it down before you sat it on the nightstand.

“Y/N, does Jensen know what triggered you?” he asked.

“Not specifically. Asking for help he figured out but not the reason,” you said, looking away. 

“Well on the bright side, you didn’t have a panic attack, you worked through it, you trusted Jensen to help you through it even if he didn’t know why and some of your coping skills helped you out quite a bit. But this is something Jensen needs to know. You’ll need help in a relationship and I know this is the big one but he needs to know so this never happens again,” said Ray. 

“What if he thinks I overreacted?” you said.

“I won’t, trust me,” said Jensen. “Secret’s safe with me.”

“Go on, Y/N,” said Ray. You took a deep breath and Jensen held your hand, stroking his thumb over the back.

“So you kinda figured out that me having a problem was the trigger and that I didn’t ask for your help earlier and kinda assumed a bad reaction if I did.”

“Yup and that’s all okay,” he said softly. 

“It wasn’t because of you that I assumed you’d have a bad reaction. It was something that happened to me that sort of...default my head to react and anticipate things in a certain way in that particular situation.”

“So if you have a problem and ask for help, you assume the person you’re asking for help from will not take it in a good way?” he asked.

“Yeah, basically. If it’s a really big problem and if I anticipate that the problem would upset the person I’m asking then my head assumes this bad thing will happen. In that case, it assumes the much better option is to not reveal the problem at all and handle it myself because then the bad thing won’t happen,” you said.

“The bad thing. It’s bad isn’t it,” he said. “Really bad.”

“Y/N, remember you can share without the graphics involved,” said Ray. You nodded and leaned your head back.

“When I was six I broke something of my dad’s. A mug. His favorite mug. I picked up the pieces but I knew it was his favorite so I didn’t throw it out. I asked him for help putting it back together,” you said. “The amount of rage he had over a broken mug...I never experienced such a horrible day in all eight years as that one.”

He didn’t say anything and you tucked your feet up, holding one up to him and showing the bottom. He stared at it and cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. It took him a moment but you saw when he noticed the small little scars. His eyes flickered back to yours and you nodded.

“He hurt me badly,” you said. “All day long.” He stared at you and you told him exactly the way the scars came to be, Jensen shuddering and closing his eyes. “It wasn’t a good day.”

“Fuck,” he said, standing up and rubbing his arm. “You were six?”

He shook his head and went to the balcony door, taking a deep breath.

“Jensen. You alright?” asked Ray.

“No,” he said, turning around, looking to you. “That many times?”

“One for every broken piece,” you said. He ran his hands over his face and shut his eyes. “The worst thing was just that it went on all day. It was long enough for me to interpret it as conditioning for a result of an event rather than just a bad memory from everything me and Ray worked out back in the day. It hasn’t been a trigger for me ever really but we knew it could be someday for a big life problem potentially. I’m guessing with it involving my dad, it kinda sent me into overdrive earlier.”

“Jensen,” said Ray, shooting you a quick glance. “Y/N’s okay. I’m actually quite impressed with her behavior. There was no hesitancy or waiver in her voice. I don’t feel as though this will likely be an issue ever again now that it’s out in the open and her father is gone.”

“You’re the closest thing to a father she’s ever had,” said Jensen, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know every horrible thing that’s happened to her and, and you just...all you did was throw him out of the country for fifteen years?”

“First off, the law was different back then and it was a lifetime ban. Second of all, buddy, violence isn’t always the answer to violence,” said Ray, getting to his feet.

“You should have adopted her.”

“She didn’t want me to.”

“You were the damn adult. She was the kid. Act like one,” said Jensen. “I mean fuck, you adopted two other kids only a few years later.”

“If I had adopted her you wouldn’t even know she fucking exists,” shot back Ray. “Her father still would have come back and this would have happened regardless.”

“You should have done what you needed to the second he popped up again when she was a teenager.”

“I did not strike you as a violent man but I do not like it.”

“She was almost assaulted by that man again tonight,” growled Jensen. “He tortured her and tormented her and he got barely any time at all for that. I would have-”

“Why’d you call the police then?” he asked. Jensen swallowed and Ray shrugged. “Why back at the farmhouse did you call the police? You could have killed him, called it self-defense and been done with it. Why?”

Jensen looked down and Ray sighed.

“The price for being a good person is making hard decisions, Jensen. Would I have loved to have rid the world of that son of a bitch the second I learned all about him? Oh you don’t know the half of it. I’m a trauma therapist, Jensen. Mostly for kids and teenagers. Do you know how much fucked up shit I’ve heard in my life? The world has so much ugliness in it. But it’s got good too and that’s why you called the police like you were supposed to and that’s why she loves you. She needs a good man, not a violent one. I’m not saying don’t think about protecting your family. But don’t act on it unless you don’t have a fucking choice, kid. Understand me?”

Jensen nodded and Ray cleared his throat.

“Say it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jensen quietly.

“Ray, don’t get mad at him. He’s not used to this stuff,” you said. You stood and pulled Jensen back to the bed, Ray crossing his arms and nodding. “If I ever feel this happening again, what should I do?”

“You could work on reconditioning instead,” said Ray. “Work on saying I have a problem to Jensen and ask for help, even if there isn’t a problem. If Jensen responds positively or even neutrally and you two work at it maybe an hour or so a day for the next week or two, I don’t think you’ll ever have to be afraid of that trigger coming back. All of your triggers Y/N have involved your father. I know similarities can set you off but they’re small, manageable. You never have to worry about anyone hurting you ever again.”

“I know. I should have trusted my partner to have my back,” you said.

“I don’t blame you. I didn’t before and I definitely don’t now,” said Jensen. Ray smiled and pulled the bench back over to the bed. 

“Get some rest you two,” he said. 

“Ray?” you said after he gave you a hug. “Why didn’t you adopt me?”

“Honestly?” he asked. You nodded, Jensen preening his ears. “You reminded me so much of your mother and I was devastated when we lost her. I should have been the adult and done what was right but after seeing her in pain for years...I didn’t have it in me to take on a grieving teenager that would have been just as angry back at me. She already was so angry then, I would have put fuel on the flames. I didn’t have it in me to be strong anymore and that’s my mistake for not trying.”

“You can adopt adults,” said Jensen. You both looked at him and he smiled. “Adults can be adopted.”

“Not sure if…” trailed off Ray as you smiled at him. “Y/N, we’ve only just started talking again.”

“Maybe if that keeps going well...maybe things could...work out…” you said. “If you wanted.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that,” he said with a smile. “It’s getting late. Put her to bed. Don’t be surprised if there’s a nightmare or two tonight.”

“Okay. Thank you,” said Jensen as Ray started to leave.

“Take care of her kid,” he said. Jensen nodded and you lay back in bed, the house growing quiet. 

“I’m so sorry,” said Jensen, his head lowering after a few moments. “I should have realized…”

“You did realize,” you said, sitting up. “Even when my head couldn’t come out and say I trust you and I know I’m acting a certain way because of what my dad put me through, you stayed calm and figured it out. You got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you. I got to pretend to be a cowboy and my dad read me stories when I was six. The worst thing I ever got was a few smacks but I know he regrets doing that,” he said. “Even then it was because I was acting out not…I just don’t understand why he would ever hurt you.”

“I stopped trying to understand him a long time ago,” you said, the door opening. You both turned, Arrow walking in with a pair of wet eyes. “You have a nightmare, sweetie?”

“I went…to the bathroom…” she said when you noticed her holding her wrist. Jensen hopped up and walked over, picking her up gently and setting her beside you. “I fell down off the step stool. It was wet.”

“Tell me what hurts,” he said.

“My hand,” she said. 

“Let daddy see,” you said. She moved her hand back and you both saw her wrist was swollen and bruised. Jensen swore under his breath and guided her hand back on it. “Okay, you hold it if it feels better that way, honey. Daddy, I think Arrow should go to urgent care.”

“Arrow, why don’t you go get your dolly and we’ll bring her with us. We might have to wait a minute,” he said. “Be careful okay? I’ll come get you in just a minute.”

“Mommy?” she asked, staring up at you. 

“Mommy’s really tired-” said Jensen when you stood up.

“Uncle Jared is staying over though, daddy. Go get your dolly and mommy and daddy will get dressed,” you said. She sniffled but climbed down okay, Jensen sighing when she left the room. “She wants me there and I want to be there. I’m going.”

“Alright but you’re going to try and get some sleep in the waiting room at least, please.”

“No promises.”

________

A/N: Read Part 17 here!

[lilith-of-rivia]

Chapter 1: The Meeting

Summary: Ina of Cintra the Lioness's firstborn daughter has been a well-kept secret. her title as princess never leaving the castle walls, her abilities, abnormalities not being uttered without the blessing of the queen. She has her entire life planned and guided so she doesn't break the Crown's rules. She has been an outstanding model of good behavior, that's until she meets a certain witcher.

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Blood and gore, swearing, mentions of death

I

“Ma’am…” Knock, knock, knock. I had heard whoever it was coming to wake me up before they even got to my door.

“Yes?” I heard them hold their breath, they weren’t expecting me to be awake.

“Uh-uh yes ma’am, Druk is outside. He has sent for you.”

“Yes thank you. I’m awake.” I said as I rose from my bed. Folding at the hips my fingers gazed at the floor as I yawned in a stretch. My spins cracked along with my shoulders.

“Yes of course ma’am” There were no footsteps and the heartbeat was still there outside the door.

“You may leave now.”

“Right right, yes ma’am.” Scurried light footsteps filled the empty hall as they left.

With a heavy sigh, I contemplated the day I had ahead of myself. Mornings with Druk were never different. The day was was one full day of drills, day two was one different full day of drills than to day three, four, five, then repeat next week. Druk wasn’t like other witchers I had met. He wasn’t focused on the coin or glory. Maybe it’s because he saw his brothers and mentors be slaughtered when his Keep fell.

“Knock knock.” My eyes snapped to the door of my room, dragging attention away from the gauntlet on my. My mother stood at the door. She was still in her sleep clothes, a wool robe hugged her body as she smiled softly at me from the door.

“Morning mother,” I said looking back at my gauntlet, huffing in frustration as I struggled to get them tied.

Wordlessly my mother walked across the room, grabbing my arm as she sat in the chair across from the one I was in. her fingers delicately tied the strings tightly, the gauntlets tightening around my wrists. Once finished, she softly held one of my hands, her face was cold, stoic as always. But once she looked me in the eyes I saw the fear.

“You know, don’t you…” I nodded my head. Looking out the window of my room, breaking eye contact. I stood up walking from her to the armored cabinet in my room. I grabbed my two swords from their hooks looking over them and assessing their sharpness.

“I heard you and the court talking last night. Many in this castle forget I have super hearing.” I heard her sigh heavily, shakily.

“I’m so sorry, Ina…” I turned to her. Her gaze was on the floor, her chest rising and falling fast.

“Mum...don’t cry…” I crouched down by her side, my hands going to hers squeezing them. She looked back at me, one hand cupping my face. Her thumb softly brushed over the scar on my left cheek.

“I’m so sorry I brought you into this world...Into this life...I wish I had known your life would be so painful…” I leaned into her warm hand, my eyes closing as she spoke.

“Stop blaming yourself...everything happens for a reason...and no matter what happens after the meeting today...I will always love you.” Her hand moved from my face to my neck. She pulled me into her chest, hugging me tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” Hse sobbed into my hair, rocking us back and forth. I said nothing, just kept my arms around her, holding her while she sobbed. Her tears wetting the spot she laid on my shoulder.

“Don’t be…”

II

“You know princess, I do not normally wait. You are lucky the gold and wine your mother gives is so good.” Druk’s voice was below a whisper as we snuck through the damp dark woods. My hands felt the tree bark under us as we slowly tipped around the fallen trees, as to make as little noise as possible. Funny with Druk’s big mouth.

“My mother is very worried about the meeting tonight,” I whispered back, following him as he weaved in and around the thickly wooded forest. We were hot on the trails of a stray kikimore that had been terrorizing a southern village. Druk and I were sent to take care of it.

“Are you worried?” Druk asked, pausing to look back at me.

I stopped too for a moment, thinking about his question.

My eyes searched the forest around us while we sat in silence. The forest was no longer lush and green. Late Saovine meant the world was cold, covered in ice and snow. Nothing was awake. All the animals were in hibernation, birds had flown south for the winter. The only things still awake were the monsters.

“No. I’m not. Should I be?” Druk looks away from me, his amber eyes searching the forest around us.

“Tonight is the night a pannel of witchers, mages, and the royal court you belong to decide if you go through the trials...maybe a little of fear. It would be healthy.” I smirked and rolled my eyes.

“Fear isn’t necessary for my vocabulary.” Druk laughed softly, his head nodding as he looked me in the eyes again.

“Then don’t be afraid. Fuck em all. If any woman could survive the trials it’s you.” Once finished with his small sentiment, a cheesy grin spread across his face. He nodded his head in the direction of the kikimore and we both rook off after it again.

Our feet lept, ran, jumped, and sprinted across the fallen trees and rocks throughout the forest. The snow-covered ground would cause too much noise. Druk had gone to the Witcher school of the cat. He prides himself on his ability to remain stealthy and quiet, all while being just as lethal as witchers from other schools. He taught me to only put my feet on the ground when it really mattered. You’re much easier to be tracked and killed when you travel foot to the ground. But foot to a tree to rock is a different story.

Jumping from a rock onto a tree we scaled the side till we were above the tree line. Out heads stuck up and out of the dead branches. Our chests rising and falling heavily as we looked around, noses sniffing out the location of the kikimore. The high point giving us the advantage. Druk’s yellow eyes scanned the trees below while I sniffed the wind. He had better eyes than I. his mutations to thank for that. The wind blew softly and the thick smell of iron and rotting corpses seeped into my nostrils and filled my head.

“To the east,” I said quietly. Druk adjusted his direction eyes grazing the land elbow us. A small smirk graced his lips, he found it.

“It about four hundred yards northeast. Common princess no time to waste.” We quickly scaled our way down the tree till our feet were steady on the branches. He wasn’t wrong, we were already out way longer than we were intending. Meaning we were going to be late for the meeting.

Druk took the lead. His hand holding the hilt of his silver swords. His other hand out in front of him, his fingers gleaming with a soft blue tint. Aard was spoken in elder inaudible to the average human. He was prepared to blast the kikemore to give me more time to ambush it. Druk only ever took the lead, then he’d stand back and watch. He’d teach me a new skill by charging whatever beast. Whether it was a new sign manipulation, a new combat skill, or hell even how he wields his sword. He started, I’d then follow and clean up.

“Ready Ina?” There was a soft pop and a cork fell onto the ground below us with a soft thud. His head fell back the liquid pouring down his throat. He grimaced slightly before turning to me, his eyes were black as night, now white to be seen. The veins on his neck, face, and hands were dark black and bulging. The potion was vital for witchers, giving them heightened senses, and skills. Allowing their powers to increase.

“So fucking ready,” I said, a smile gracing my lips. He returned the smile, his more sinister with the help of his eyes.

My sword was in hand. The silver catching the few rays of sun peeking through the clouds above. We both moved silently through the brush. Out feet feather-light against the snow. We moved fast, never keeping pressure on one spot too long to not break the crust of the snow. Druk made it to the clearing first. The Kikimore was alerted to us as soon as we reached its small nest.

Druk’s hand thrust out in front of himself, a huge ball of blue light smacked into the kikimore, throwing it back and hard into the tree. Druk sheathed his sword and ducked behind me. The kikimore shook its head before it made eye contact with me. I crouched lower to the ground, eyeing the beast. It slowly started to move to its left, so I mimicked it. We slowly began circling one another. The Kikimore’s large gray limbs stabbed into the ground with every step. Its gross snarly face, red beady eyes looking me over, studying my every move. The only issue was I knew where and how it would be.

The kikimore pounced, its legs kicking up dirt as it tore after me. The short distance between us was gone in no time. I lunged out of the way. Diving and rolling away from the clumsy beast. I was much smaller, giving me an advantage.

“My my what an ugly fucker you are.” I mocked. The beast turned to me again, and let out a low grumbly growl. I was moving closer to its nest. I could smell the rotting bodies even worse as I moved slowly. My eyes never leaving the kikimore.

It charged again. I slashed my sword through the air, spinning around, splicing my sword up in the air. The kikimore squealed and screamed as its leg fell from its body. Spinning on my heels my sword slashed through the air again, making contact with its neck. The sword slashed through the beast’s thick, fat neck like butter. The screams stopped, the kikimore’s body falling limp on the ground, blood-spewing, and pooling on the ground and around my boots. I sighed heavily, a smile gracing my lips again as I whipped the dark black blood from my blade before sliding back into its sheath on my back.

Clap, clap, clap. “Very well done princess!! A full-grown warrior kikimore down in two strikes, no potions or magic!” Druk had a smile ear to ear, his potion still in effect. Seeing a laughing, happy smiling witcher with pure black eyes was a sight to see.

“Only as good as my mentor my dear friend,” I said with a laugh. Crouching to the ground, my hand gathering the small tuft of hair atop the kikimore’s head and lifted it so it was eye level with me. Blood dripped from its mouth, nose, and eyes. Its dark purple tongue hung out of its mangled mouth.

“Add another one to my list.”

III

“Common hurry Druk!!” I yelled through the rain as we ran up the cobblestone road towards the castle. The kikimore’s head swung over my shoulder. “We are already late they will have my head!!” Druk ran from the stables after me, quickly catching up with me right as I neared the doors.

The two guards opened them for us as we walked through. I breathed heavily, my lips blue as my teeth chattered. Despite my many abnormal traits I still got just as cold as the average human. The rain had come out of nowhere. The two of us speed walk down the corridor, our muddy boots squeaking against the marble floors as we got closer to the royal library. A place I’d only ever been when I was being threatened by the crown’s court. The doors appeared ahead of us as we both halted before we could be close enough to be heard. The floor below us was wet as we dripped head to toe.

Glancing at Druk I gulped, now that I was about to walk into the room, I was more than terrified. The prospect of the trials was so much closer than they had ever been my entire life. Druks hand went to my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ve got this.” He whispered, before giving me a soft push towards the door. I took a deep breath before shoving the door open, swallowing the fear and placing the stoic look of my mother back on my face.

The voices in the room stopped when I walked in. my boots stopping heavily on the floor. My eyes glanced around the room, everyone there were people I have known for many years. My mother stood in the center of the room by her throne, my sister who was not supposed to be here was next to her. They looked scared.

“Sorry, I’m late, had a prior arrangement.” I heaved the beast’s head over my shoulder and threw it on the floor. It flopped down and rolled a little its tongue falling out as its cold dead eyes stared up at Gadri, a member of the Crowns Court. His face scrunched in disgusts before he kicked it away from his shoes.

“You are nearly three hours late, Ina.” I rolled my eyes my attention going back to my mother and sister.

“What is she doing here?” I asked pointing to my sister.

“We think it’s important that the future queen gets to help make choices regarding her subjects.” Hazzez, a plump fat little man with a bald shiny head and large white mustache and beard said standing from his seat.

I huffed, the corner of my lip pulling into a sly smirk as I shook my head. Water falling on the floor.

“Yes, the future queen who passes her sister even tho her sister is the senior. Yes, and my sister needs to be in control of whether I will be subjected to the trials and if I’ll die or not.” Druks witcher attitude tended to rub off on me. Witchers are trained, to be honest, overly honest. Blunt and rude is what many present them as.

“Ina. enough.” my mother said sternly, her jaw tightening. I bite my tongue nodding my head. My fingers pulled at the buttons of my jacket, throwing it on the floor in a wet pile. The room was cold, making the wet clothes on my body send shivers down my spine.

I glanced around the room, eyeing the other members of the Crown’s Court. And then the other few people who were in the room. Tissaia, a mage from Aretuza smiled at me fondly as we made eye contact.

“Hello, princess, my how you’ve grown.” Her voice filled the empty room. I smiled back at her.

“Tissaia-” I bowed my head to her softly, “yes, it’s been a while hasn’t it? What 15 years?”

“17 years.” my mother chimed in behind me.

“Whos the mystery man next to you?” I asked her, she glanced over at the witcher who was perched next to her. Druk was seated next to him.

“Well get to that in a second. Please sit down.” Hazzez said, gesturing to a lone isolated chare in the middle of the room.

It was as if I was on trial, for simply being born.

IV

“Druk how has she been doing?” My mother asked, her eyes glaring daggers at the five men who were attempting to discredit the years of work and training I had done with Druk.

Durk rose from his seat next to the other witcher, a bored look on his face. “She is exceptional. Not only her physical talents in combat and swords but her book knowledge. I’ve trained three other witchers before her, and none of them come close to the skills she posses. She is a skilled alchemist, a skilled swordsman, she is skilled in nearly every talent she tries. I would trust her in a battle to have my back any day. It has been an honor training her for 15 years, your highness.” I smiled at him, a smirk covering his lips.

“With all due respect your highness we are not interested in what the witcher from a failed school has to say. The witcher to his right has been watching her and keeping track of her success. That’s who we care about.”

Before the witcher could address them, Tissaia stood up. “What is the problem here gentlemen. On her fifth birthday, you all made this a rule. You said her abnormalities would only ever benefit her if she was trained as an assassin or a witcher. She has been trained for 17 years by a witcher, as a witcher. She has proven time and time again she doesn’t need the trials and mutations to be as skilled as a witcher.”

“Thank you, Tissaia, but need I remind you that you are only here to as a stand-in for the mage in your court who can still perform the mutations. Please sit down and be quiet.” My mother shot Tissaia a look, making her shut her mouth and sit down. The witcher next to Druk stood up.

“I have been following her and her trainer. For months now. Even just today I followed them while they killed the stray Kikimore. She killed the Kikimore with two strikes something many of my boys have struggled with as fully mutated and trained witchers. She without a doubt has a talent and a heart of the witcher.” I heard my mother’s breath catch in her throat as she held my sister’s hand. My sister was stating at me, had been since I sat down. Her face was painfully still, her throat tight as she breathed heavily. She looked scared, so did my mother.

“Tissaia, you will take Ina to Kear Morhen. Along with the mages in your court. The mutations will be done by the end of the week.” My throat ran dry. Hazzez kept talking but my brain tuned him out. None of us thought they would go through with this. The chances of me surviving the trials and the mutations were nearly impossible. Less than 20% of the boys who face the trials died. And the mutations are designed for male genetics, not females. I was never supposed to be mutated, just trained.

“Hazzez you piece of shit!!” My mother screamed as she stood from her chair. Her hand reached for the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh.

Her hand came down quickly with the shinny dagger, flying towards Hazzez face. My hands quickly caught her arms and I pushed her back. Knowing if she killed one of her court members over me I would surely be sent away and killed, no chance of survival.

“Mother mother please stop it please,” I screamed into her red, tear-stained face as she attempted to fight me off. Her chest rose and fell heavily. She hissed through her gritted teeth, she was probably breaking teeth.

“Queen Calanthe-” Hazzez spoke. I turned to look at him, my back to my mother. Her dagger is in my hand. I threw it to the floor, kicking it away. “Do not forget the sympathy the crown, and your father gave you for your bastard daughter. She should have been killed out of the womb. But your father cared too much for you. Count your blessing that you got 20 years with her, and at least she will die with a little bit of dignity.” Hazzez stood up to leave, the four men ready to follow him, they gathered their belongings.

“Gentlemen.” My mother said, her voice harsh and cold like the wind outside. Her brows set in a low glair as she looked them up and down. “I am still your queen, you do not get to control everything. It’s clear you’ve made your choice, but when it happens. That is my choice. She is my daughter. I choose when she goes with the witcher. I do not know when that will be but it will be after her sister’s betrothal. If you have an issue with that, find a new court to control.” the five men looked at her, then each other before nodding and walking out of the room silently.

My mother’s hands held my arms as she dragged me into her chest. My sister came up to us both, her hands wrapping around both my mother and me I. her head resting on my shoulder. Wrapping one arm around her and one around my mother, I let my fear fall. My fear came out in silent sobs. My shoulders shook, my eyes clouding as I stared at the wall behind my sister. The tears pooled down my face.

My mother pulled back, one hand on each of my cheeks, her fingers brushing my tears away.

“You will be the first female witcher to ever be. You will make history.” my shoulders started to shake more violently as I cried more. The impending end of my life is on the horizon. My mother’s denial was just to help her cope, but we both knew how it would end.

“Mum...we both know what will happen to me...I won’t survive it.” my voice was broken as I spoke caving as I cried. Her fingers moved faster to wipe my tears as she shushed me. My sister’s hands are on my arms and back.

“Even if that’s the case, it won’t be for at least another month. Live your life for the next month the way you want to, no regrets,-”

“No hesitations.” I interrupted her, a small smile tugging at my lips. Her eyes softened at me. She leaned in placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

“You can do this Ina. You are the Lioness Cub. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

[silversatoru]

Hi, I just finished burdens and OML 🥺🥺🥺

May I request some sort of megumi x reader continuous where the reader ends up becoming a powerful sorcerer (or a cursed spirit👀 whichever you’d like tbh) megumi and the reader somehow cross paths again a little while after the break up and he witnesses her fighting for the first time? I just know that boy would fall in love all over again but she’s moved on and he feels guilty and just angst? And maybe fluff idk. I’m new to requests so I hope I did this right, thank you so much❤️❤️

burdens pt. 2

a/n: hello, part two of this not-so-lovely story is finally here. every single one of you is allowed one free punch to my face for taking so long to write it,,, i’m so sorry. this is its fourth rewrite and it got a little darker than expected but it’s finally done,, i hope you enjoy <3

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you finally see megumi again at the kyoto sister school goodwill event

tags/warnings: angst, some graphic depictions of violence, character death

word count: 3k

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”.

Megumi’s bitter words were on repeat in your head — the harshness of his voice leaving a hollow feeling carved into your chest. Tear-stained cheeks and shaky breathes had become your new normal these past few days. Tight, sharp pains filled your empty stomach, waves of nausea coursing through your body.

You’ve had no motivation to get out of bed lately, nevermind to shower or cook yourself a proper meal — honestly, for all you cared you could rot away in your blanket filled bed. You checked your phone like a fiend too, thinking that eventually, a miraculous text from Megumi would appear and make everything better. It never did.

He’d completely ghosted you since that dreadful day, and that hurt more than anything. You’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't meant what he said. But as the days continued to pass, your hope quickly dwindled.

To say your current state was shameful was putting it lightly, and you were embarrassed at how poorly this was effecting you. You liked to think that you were strong, motivated, independent — that you didn't need some douchebag just to feel happy. But truth be told, breakups are fucking hard, and it's okay to not be okay for a while — or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

So when you were trudging miserably down the street to your local convenience store and you saw a familiar pair of jujutsu sorcerers, you wanted desperately to sink into the ground. You made a quick turn to head to a different shop, but it was too late, you were spotted.

“y/n! hey!” Two lighthearted voices sang through the air, filling your ears and making your heart clench in your chest.

You turned around and anxiously approached them, your unkempt hair and baggy eyes sending looks of concern across their faces.

“Hey girl, you good?” Nobara shot you a sideways glance, Maki raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, ice cream,” You croaked, speaking for the first time in a couple days, “I’m here for ice cream, that’s all”.

“Yeah, but why do you look like a fucking zombie?” Maki pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose, her sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Ah, he didn’t say anything to you guys, did he?” You shook your head, heavy eyes falling to ground as you refused to meet theirs.

“Don’t tell me…” Nobara’s face contorted, “Did he break up with you?”

You nodded, a pitiful chuckle falling from your lips, because if you didn’t laugh, you’d start sobbing right now.

Maki threw her arm around your shoulder, pulling you to her side and ushering you into the store, “It’s okay, men suck. Hang out with us today”.

Meanwhile, Nobara trailed quickly behind the two of you, anger seething from her teeth and steam practically billowing out of her ears.

“That fuckhead! I swear I’ll fuck his shit up big time, he won’t even know what fucking hit him. I knew that boy was stupid but shit, this is a whole new low for him! I-,” She continued to ramble and rant as Maki led you through the store, picking out drinks and snacks to help ease your pain.

The three of you ended up in a nearby park, sitting around a small picnic table and gorging on the massive array of snacks. Lighthearted conversation and lots of food make your chest ache a little less, and you even found yourself laughing and chatting as if things were normal. You’d told the two of them all about that day, about Megumi’s irrational words and his tragic breakdown that led to some kind of fucked-up break up sex.

“So, how are we gonna get back at him? Egg his car? Put bleach in his shampoo? Bugs in his food? God - it’s a shame his dad is dead because from the pictures I’ve seen that man was FINE and revenge sex—,”

“Nobara,” Maki shot her idiot girlfriend a dirty look, and the orange-haired girl quickly shut her mouth, “As much as I support any idea that revolves around ruining a man’s day, I don’t think revenge is the healthiest coping strategy here”.

You were tracing your eyes around Maki’s face as she spoke, and you found yourself carefully inspecting her purple glasses that rested softly on the bridge of her nose. And that’s when it clicked, the light bulb ignited in your head and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Maki,” your voice was urgent, “You don’t have cursed energy, you can’t even see them without your glasses!”

Her face twisted and her nose scrunched, a look of distaste in her eyes, “I know?”

“So, you could teach me, right? You could help me learn how to use some cursed weapons?”

“Yeah! You have to Maki, then she can beat his ass with me,” Nobara chimed in.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Maki’s mouth formed an evil grin, “Could you imagine his face after watching you exorcise a curse?”

The three of your conversed for a bit longer, speculating and potting about training, weapons, and your very own pair of curse-seeing glasses. By the end of the night you had a plan, and a pretty good one if you say so yourself.

From that day on, teary eyes and achy hearts were a thing of the past, not because it was that easy to get over Megumi, but because Maki didn’t even allow you the time to feel dismal anymore. You met her everyday after classes without fail, and everyday she would train you until you thought your arms would fall off. After months and months of sore muscles, sweat, and the occasional injury, you were convinced that Maki was incapable of feeling pity or remorse for other living things. Every time you speculated about quitting, she’d set a fire under you, unafraid to remind you how weak you still were.

The green-haired sorcerer had ultimately decided that you worked best dual-armed -- a long, lightweight blade in each hand. On your final day of training, she officially gifted the two swords to you, as a “graduation” gift.

Skill-wise, you were by no means as incredible Maki, but you definitely held your own, and the progress you’d made in a mere 8 months was astronomical. They’d introduced you to a strange silver-haired man at some point, Gojo, who had taken not only an interest in you but also your plot against your ex-boyfriend. He cackled to himself when you told him why you were here, going on and on about how priceless Megumi’s face would be when he saw you.

Your appearance was highly anticipated, so why not debut at one of the biggest jujutsu events all year? The Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event — Gojo thought it was the most perfect idea.

You tried hard to exude confidence as you walked at Nobara and Maki’s sides, but behind your arrogant facade your stomach was twisting itself into knots. Truthfully, you were scared to see Megumi again after so long.

And when your eyes met with his as you walked into the meeting room, you thought you just might pass out. You thought you were ready for this — but the look of complete shock, fear, and anger on his face as he looked you up and down almost made you regret all of it.

“What’s going on?” Megumi’s words were incredibly calculated, an edge on his voice.

His question was pointless, however, because judging by the fact that you were wearing a jujutsu tech uniform and had two swords sheathed at your sides could only mean one thing. Your hair was longer now too, and your frame was wider with an extra layer of muscle from all the training — you almost looked like a different person.

“I’ve been training with Maki, I-,” You spoke up to explain yourself, but you weren’t even granted the opportunity.

“No, no, Maki, what the hell did you do?” His eyes were shaky and laced with concern.

“I only did what she asked me to. I’m not the one who gave her a complex about being weak, you did that,” Maki shrugged, “and she’s not your girlfriend anymore dude, what do you care?”

Absolute confliction flashed through his eyes, uncertainty and madness swirling in his irises, “You’re right, I don’t care. Let me know when the event is starting”.

He took a sharp turn out of the room and let the door slam a little too hard behind him. The sound of his icey voice and the door shutting with unkind force was all too reminiscent of the night you broke up. Burying every emotion you had deep into your stomach you gave Maki a small, reassuring smile and plopped down on one of the couches.

“Alright, so when does this thing start?”

after the start of the event

Fighting the Kyoto students was proving to be much harder than you initially expected, but you were holding your own at Maki’s side. The two of you had easily taken down a small, kind, blue haired girl named Miwa, and now you were watching an emotional battle between Maki and her sister unfold.

Wait here, she’d told you, I want to do this one myself. Take some notes on my form and watch our backs, okay?

Okay, you’d said, a little confused but ultimately finding a nice spot up in a thick tree to carefully observe from. Maki was truly a force of nature, and it seemed like the other girl never actually had a chance of winning. It was honestly only a few minutes before the small black, haired girl was slumped against a tree and Maki was making her way back to you. Things were looking good, two of Kyoto’s student’s were down already and adrenaline was pumping through your veins.

You couldn't quite shake the awful feeling churning in your stomach though, and Megumi’s face was haunting your thoughts. You hadn’t seen him since before the event started, when an odd, pink haired boy jumped out of a box and freaked everyone out. Nobara had later explained who he was and what had happened, and you wondered how many awful surprises Gojo had planned today -- first you, then that.

A small rumble rippled under your feet, and Maki grabbed your arm as you watched a giant brown vine lurch it’s way out of the ground a few hundred yards in the distance.

“That technique doesn’t belong to anyone from Kyoto,” She shot you a look of concern and determination, “let’s go check it out”.

You gave her a firm nod, the two of you making your way towards the horrifying wooden vines. By the time you managed to arrive, Inumaki was already down and so was a dark-haired boy from Kyoto. A muscular, white curse with black markings and wooden branches for eyes was moments away from taking Megumi on all by himself — thank god you got here in time to help.

Megumi, however, was horrified when he saw you jump over the tall roofed building with Maki at your side. He’d just watched two incredible sorcerers get their shit rocked by this curse, there was no way you would stand a chance against this thing. But before he could even try to stop you, you and the green-haired sorcerer were flying through the air and taking shots at the curse. The two of you worked perfectly in sync, the months of daily training finally paying off.

He watched with intent glazed over his eyes, his heart threatening to lurch up his throat. You were a spectacle, and he always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now with dirt and blood stained clothes, cursed weapons gripped firmly in your hands, you truly were ethereal. He hated it though, he hated that he was falling in love with you all over again, especially under these circumstances. Guilt and anxiety was eating away at him — why did you have to get involved? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away like he told you to?

He was quick to join the two of you, sticking close to your side to protect you if need be — but, even with all three of you together the curse still had the upper hand. Maki had been swatted to the side, her back slamming hard against one of the tiled roofs and knocking her unconscious. It was down to just the two of you now, beads of sweat causing your hair to uncomfortably stick to the back of your neck. This was something that Maki’s training could have never prepared you for.

Megumi was getting tired, taking one wrong step and losing his footing momentarily. The curse saw this as a perfect window of opportunity, sending a spiral of vines and branches hurling for Megumi. It was fast, but the adrenaline coursing through you helped you to move faster, launching yourself through the air and intercepting the attack. The barky, wooden vines twisted violently through your stomach, shooting clean through your back and ripping a violent scream from your throat.

It hurt so bad, feeling the plant wriggle through your organs and tear you apart from the inside out. The curse retracted his vine a few moments later, leaving your mangled body to fall helplessly to the roof. Tears rippled from your eyes, your body shaking and seizing as you coughed up a few sprays of blood.

A long, strong pair of arms scooped you up instantaneously, and your head was resting against a firm chest — probably Megumi, but you didn’t quite have the energy to open your eyes to check.

“We’ll take it from here, get her to Ieiri!” You heard a pair of deep voices yelling to Megumi, but it was too foggy and far away for you to understand what they were saying.

Megumi was seething with anger, moving as fast as his feet could carry him and he ran through the school. As you waved in and out of consciousness, you batted open your eyes, stealing quick glances at his twisted features and — were those tears on his face?

“I- I’m sorry Megumi… I think I finally understand what you were so afraid of all this time,” Your voice was barely a croak, “when I saw it coming, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to watch you die. I suddenly just thought I would do anything to keep you safe”.

Yeah, those were definitely tears, you could see them a little clearer now. His eyes were red and his cheeks were dried with salty streaks.

“You’re so thick-headed,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening slightly as he picked up his pace, “I wish you would have made that realization before there was a giant hole in your stomach”.

“Me too,” You hummed, but you weren’t really in any pain anymore. The pain had subdued to a sweet warm sensation inside your stomach, and an intoxicating sleepiness was washing over your head, “I was angry for a long time, but I’m not mad at you anymore, Gumi. I hope you can forgive me too”.

You offered him a tiny smile, but the blood leaking from between you keeps made it anything but sweet.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, you never did anything wrong,” He spoke quickly, his voice quiet and cracking.

“No, but we’re not gonna make it to Ieiri, I know that and so do you,” You fell into a violent fit of coughs again, sputtering red splatters all over the front of his uniform.

“Shut up”.

“It’s not your fault, none of it was ever your fault,” you choked out once the fit of coughs subsided — and you weren’t just talking about yourself, you were talking about all of the unfortunate tragedies he’d witnessed throughout this life.

“And you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know? I hope that when you meet someone, your soulmate even, you can allow yourself to love them with every part of you”.

The words painfully left your lips, but you meant every single one of them. You were starting to realize that you and Megumi were never meant to make it to the end. You weren’t his soulmate, you were here to help him grow, so that when he did finally meet them he’d be ready.

“You deserve to be loved, Megumi,” You looked up at him with big eyes, but his face was starting to get really fuzzy now.

Your fingers were going numb and your mouth felt like it was filled with sand. You were so tired, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest softly against Megumi’s chest. You felt him stop running, you could even hear him screaming at you — but it was too far away for you to hear. You drifted closer and closer to eternal sleep, your soul swollen with love for the boy who broke your heart.

Megumi didn’t even feel sad when you stopped breathing in his arms — he just felt hollow. More empty and broken than he’d ever thought possible. You were the most incredible person he’d ever met — someone with extreme motivation, who acted with no fear or hesitation, who always had love to give, even when he didn’t deserve it. He’d never forget you, not for as long as he’d live anyway.

Even when he did meet a new girl a few years later — a compassionate, brave girl, who reminded him a lot of you — he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget your words and for the first time in his life he’d let his walls down for her. He’d allow himself to truly love, and be loved in return.

And maybe you were right, maybe he did deserve to be loved like this, because god, he finally feels whole again when she’s around. He just wishes you were still here so he could say thank you.

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[dixonarchives]

[ 01 ] | 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃

sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs: Daryl finds out Merle is missing. [Y/N] doesn’t want to be at the quarry anymore so she offers a hand to help the search party

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ: search-party

-> back to masterlist

Walkers are gross.

A shiver wrecks through your body and travels down your spine due to the disgusting squelch that sounded when you sunk your knife into the rotted skin of the undead brute. Blood oozes thickly from the wound, trickling down and staining the already soiled clothing that hangs illy off of the corpses body.

The kids behind you tremble slightly, shaken up due their unexpected encounter with the dead man. It’s blood-coated hands had been previously occupied with ripping the oesophagus out of the deer which lay lifeless on the ground below the walker.

“[Y/N]? What’s happening?” Sophia questions, trying to peer around your body which shields most of the massacre.

“Nothing Sophia..You two run back to camp, okay? Don’t go anywhere else” You order calmly. The two nod and dart off, probably not taking any chances in case they come across another straggler. Their mothers weren’t far behind you, so you’re sure they’d bump into them on the way back anyway.

The bushes rustle from the clearing and due to the arrows that are stuck in the side and thighs of the creature, you’re guessing the archer had been trailing the deer and was now coming to collect his prize. Yet, you still grasp onto the bloodied weapon in your hand.

A familiar face begins to appear between the leaves and overgrown bushes surrounding the previous campsite location. “Oh man” Daryl sighs, falling into the clearing. Not only does he look annoyed to see a walker making a feast out of his meal, but he seems surprised to see you standing above it.

“Wha’ are ya doing here, girl?” He asks inquisitively, slinging his crossbow across his chest to land on his back. He’s quick to retrieve his arrows seeing as you’ve already put down the walker.

“Kids ran out so I killed it and told them to go back to camp” You manage to muster a pretty decent reply, feeling quite awkward with being alone with the man of few words.

Daryl nods, pushing the walker off of the deer to examine the damage. He clicks his tongue, circling the bite with his arrow as he looks up at you “Think we can cut around it?”

“Wouldn’t chance it Daryl” He exhales sharply at your honesty and kicks the creature, frustration wrecking through his body. The sudden aggressive action causes you to flinch but you distract yourself with sheathing the knife in your hand.

“The squirrels will still do good Daryl, don’t worry about it”

The archer simply brushes past you.

The birds in the trees squawked loudly as they flee from the now noisy scene. A new guy, Rick Grimes - and Lori’s husband - had announced that Merle was handcuffed to a rooftop in Atlanta’s city and to say the least, he’s unhappy.

It’s understandable but the fight is quickly squashed and the two agree to go to the city to retrieve him.

“So you’re just going to risk two of our men like that?” Shane argues, feeling uneasy with the fact their star hunter was going to travel into the city.

“I’ll go” You offer, pushing yourself off of the red car Glenn brought back with him. Shane spares a look your way, almost mockingly as he laughs to himself “You’re not going”

“You’re not the boss of me” The statement makes Shane frowns irascibly, annoyed that you’re challenging his authority over you and the others in the camp.

“We need you here at the quarry”

“To do what? Your washing? You have hands so do it yourself”

Shane points his finger towards you in a belligerent manner, lips curling downwards in anger as his eyes darken almost creepily “Now listen here-“

“I’ll go!” Glenn announces tensely, springing up from his place beside you in an attempt to change the subject and subdue the tension between you and the ex-cop.

“Four people now!” Shane vociferates “We can’t loose anymore people”

Daryl stomps his feet into the mud, kicking up pieces of gravel and dirt as he turns on his heel to storm towards the truck Rick had brought back with him.

“[Y/N]!” Dale blurts out, slipping his handgun from his holster and throwing it over to you as your head snaps in his direction. Luckily, you’re quick to catch it and check the magazine of the gun before slipping it into your belt.

Thankfully, the slots are full.

Long story short, Merle was either high as hell or high on adrenaline because he sawed his own hand off.

“Couldn’t he have just cut the pole he was attached to?” Puzzled, you scratch your head as you examine the crime scene. Even though Merle could have been thinking frantically and acting on impulse, you’re almost certain he would’ve rather attempted to cut the thin pole before actually hacking his own hand off.

“Wasn’t thinking straight I guess” Glenn shrugs as he tries to not dwell on it, sparing you a disgruntled look as he looks away from the bloodied hand.

Just a few feet away from where you and Glenn stand, Daryl grumbles something despondently to himself as he wraps the dead hand up in a bandana and tosses it in his duffel bag. You do feel bad for him, very much so, even if you’ve barely communicated with him.

A moment of silent passes between the group as you chew on your lip while pondering carefully before picking your next few words.

“Think he cauterised it?”

A blanket of silence falls back over the group once more as you collectively think of the next move.

Rick looks over from the trail of blood, sighing apprehensively as he turns on his heel “Guess we have to check”

[xalphacentauri]

His Fantasy- Yandere Shigaraki x Reader

*TW* Stockholm syndrome/ Questionable consent/ Shiggy being creepy/ C*rsing/ Tr*uma/ Kidn*pping/ Bl*od/ Fire/ Violenc* Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 3 The Break Words: 2,284

She looks so innocent listening to her music. She takes out her headphones, admiring the park, so blissfully unaware of anything around her. She doesn’t know how cruel society can be. The world is a dangerous place, that’s why you need me. I think I’ll trail her a bit longer, make sure she gets back to the dorms safely. She’s lucky I haven’t decayed that whole class yet. I’m doing her a favor really, she’ll have to repay me soon. They all deserve to rot. I take longer strides to get closer to her, just being near her calms my nerves. I’m a few feet behind her watching her hair bounce back and forth. Her innocence is tangible, I can make her into anything I want. Soon.

My thoughts are interrupted by a group of men walking towards her. The men are clearly drunk. Disgusting. I’ll stay close by in case something happens. If any one of them even look at her, I’ll f*cking kill them myself.

As the men pass by one of them bumps into her, knocking her backwards onto me. My heart skips a beat as I use my fingers to lift her up. She’s so soft, so warm. She’s mine. I lace my fingers around her neck, pulling her close to me. She looks up to me with eyes wide as I’d ever seen, like a deer in headlights. What a magnificent sight, she’s terrified.

“We finally meet.”

I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such joy as I have at this moment. The look of horror on her pale beautiful face and the sensation of her body pressed against mine, It’s pure bliss. I glide my fingers along her neck, basking in the feel of her silky skin. Leaning my head down, I take a breath and all I can smell her. Amazing.

“If you move, I’ll kill you. You know that so don’t try anything” I say

My breath is becoming erratic, but I move my head closer to her anyways. Her scent is like a drug, intoxicating me. I didn’t think it would be today, but I’m prepared. I’ll take her back with me after this conversation.

“I never expected we’d meet this way. I had something much more.. entertaining planned.”

“W-what?” she whispers

She’s seen me watching her, she knows what I want but shes playing dumb. I saw you yesterday but now you want to play hard to get?  She’s toying with me. Very funny. I let out a low laugh at this idea and grip her tighter,

“Don’t play dumb with me, you know I-”

I hear a loud obnoxious voice and recognize it immediately. Across the street is the “Pro Hero” Gunhead, some other idiot in a sh*tty polyester costume and a young wanna be hero. My hand clamps her throat tighter. Things could get messy if I take her here and I don’t want to draw any attention. On the other hand she’s kept me waiting long enough. Frustration bubbles through me. I’ll have to do this another time. I turn her away from the ‘heroes’ and try to take in this moment the best I can before I have to leave. I see the bag she dropped with the skirt that fit her perfectly. I have enough of her things at the hideout for her to stay there for weeks.

“You look good in pink” I mutter into her neck, her hair tickling my nose

I’ll see you soon. I release my hand from her neck and slip back into the park, disappearing among the trees and into the crowd. Very soon.

—————— Your POV ——————-

My mind races while I attempt to catch my breath but my throat feels like it’s crushed. I have to get out of here. Looking over at the pro heroes making their rounds, I decide to finally ask for help. I try to walk but my legs refuse to move. I was wrong, I can’t handle this on my own. Tomura Shigaraki has been following me for the past three months; I can barely comprehend what’s happening, it’s all too much. What can proheros do for me? They can’t stop the league of villains. No one can help you.

I stare longingly at the heroes, feeling tightness in my throat. It’s like his hand is still wrapped around my neck. They won’t be able to save me. Tears begin to form and I feel like screaming but I just stand frozen, staring across the street. One pro hero looks over to me and seems concerned. He turns towards my direction but my instincts tell me to walk away. If anyone else gets involved in this they could die. With this realization my body unlocks and I begin to wander back to the parks center but a booming voice causes me to look over my shoulder

“Hello!? Young lady, are you alright?”

The hero that noticed me is crossing the street so I pick up the pace and walk quicker. I begin to weave between groups of people strolling along the grass. After a minute or two I look behind and don’t see him anywhere. I sigh, secretly wishing I’d asked for help but that would put too many people in danger. Shigaraki is the head of the League of Villains. He’s too dangerous. I doubt they would be able to protect me either, even my dorm at U.A isn’t safe. Where do I go? If he’s not at the dorms when I get back then he’ll be there at night. It’s like I can’t escape. I need to be rational right now and find a safe space to think. I need to go home.

My house isn’t too far from the park so I made my way home. Will I be safe there? He clearly knows a lot about me so does he know where I live? My blood runs cold.. OF COURSE HE DOES!!

I use my quirk to lift myself, flying as quickly as possible to my house. Paranoia eats me alive. My moms there. She should be home right now…what if he’s there? WHAT IF I DON’T MAKE IT IN TIME? F*CK!

I float above my house. The cars there, she’s home. I land in front of the door and stop to listen. There’s no noise from inside the house. She could already be dead. No, I’m being irrational. I take out my keys to unlock the door but as soon as I push my hand to the handle it creaks open. It was unlocked and open. I stick my head inside. It doesn’t matter how afraid I am right now, I need to save her.

Looking around, the house looks exactly the same as it was when I last visited. It’s not messy but not clean either. I try to call out to her

“Mom?”

No response. Maybe she went for a walk? I step inside for a closer look. Not bothering to take off my shoes I creep down the hallway.

“Mom?!”

I call for her again but there’s nothing. I walk into the kitchen and look around. There’s unpacked  groceries sitting on the counter. Before I can begin to panic again two arms grab me and I scream. A hand holding a towel wraps around my nose and mouth. All I can smell is chemicals. I try to struggle but my vision is blurring and I’m getting weaker. Before I black out I hear distant comforting shushes coming from a scratchy voice.

I don’t know how much time has passed. I’m slipping in and out of consciousness and it’s cold. I try to open my eyes but they’re so heavy. What happened? I can barely think straight, everything’s so fuzzy. I try to open my eyes again and succeed, although it’s very blurry. It’s a dim brick room with concrete floors. There’s a table, some chairs and what looks like a pool table. Where am I? I try to speak but the only thing that comes out is a groggy grunt. I hear shuffling and try craning my head to find where the sound is coming from.

“Oh! Finally, you’re awake!”

I attempt to move but I’m tied to something. I look down and see that I’m bound to a chair by thick rope. The realization of where I am and who I’m with hits me. The pit in my stomach seems all consuming. I shut my eyes as tight as I can. The footsteps stop directly in front of me. A finger brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear and I shut my eyes even tighter as I begin to shake.

“Here!”

His voice is cheerful. I pretend I don’t hear him, praying that none of this is real. Silent hot tears begin to train down my cheeks.

“Look, I have something for you, here!” he chirps

I look up and see him inches from me holding up a glass of water. I lick my lips and taste the salt from my tears. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to be here. He’s going to kill me, I know it.

He pushes the glass closer to me

“I know you’re thirsty, come on.” he rushes

He puts the glass to my lips, tilting it back. I do as I’m told and take a sip. I didn’t know how thirsty I was until I drank, I began downing the glass, water spilling down my chin and onto my lap. I look up to see him smiling at me and I freeze.

“I didn’t expect you to go home, luckily I was already there when you showed up.” His smile widens

I try to say something but stop. DID HE KILL HER? “MY MOM!” I shout

He just laughs and shakes his head, his eyes surveying me.

“Exactly. I was going to have a little talk with her but she wasn’t home. You just happened to arrive before she did. It’s my lucky day”

“S-she’s fine?” I choke out

“For now. That all depends on your behavior.”

A door opens across the room and a cloud of purple mist peers in.

“Shigaraki, may I have a word” The mist inquires in a polite voice

Shigarakis’ demeanor changes completely. He whips his head around with a sour expression, his voice full of venom

“Don’t you see I’m busy Kurogiri?”

I look to the purple cloud, hoping to gain some sympathy from this strange man. The tears fall faster and a sob breaks from my chest. The cloud looks at me for a moment then back to my captor, giving him a nod and closing the door. I don’t want to be alone with him. He turns back to glare at me

“Why are you crying again? I haven’t done anything to you” He complains, moving closer

I can’t take it, I have to get out. I shake my shoulders in an attempt to loosen the ropes. It’s not working and he’s getting closer. He leans over, reaching out and runs three fingers along my cheek, a curious look replacing the irritation. I do the only thing I can think of. I quickly use my quirk to propel him across the room, slamming him against the wall. He crashes against the brick with a loud thud, falling to the floor. He doesn’t move. I stare, waiting for him to get up but I think he’s knocked out. I threw him hard enough to kill him. This is my chance. Cold sweat drips off my nose as I look down at the ropes. I look back up to make sure he’s unconscious. He’s moving. He plants his hands on the ground. F*ck f*ck f*ck, he’s going to kill me. He stands himself back up, swaying a little. As his eyes meet mine, I watch as his expression darkens from shock to pure rage. Absolute terror absorbs me. Blood trickles down from his hairline to his eyebrow but he’s unfazed. How is he still conscious? His eyes filled with blood lust. He walks towards me again, taking heavy steps and erratic breaths. He’s shaking.

“If you move one f*cking muscle, I’ll have your mother, friends, anyone you’ve ever loved killed” He sharply whispers

He takes several deep breaths as he stares at me.

“I’ll kill every last one of them and I’ll make you watch if you ever do that again.”

“Do you understand?” He growls

I can’t answer. I can’t think. I open my mouth but I just start babbling.

“DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND?” He shouts

I nod vehemently. With a few fingers he wipes the line of blood that dripped down his forehead. He looks down at the blood on his fingers then back at me. He closes his eyes and takes a deep steadying breath.

“I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to.”

When he opens his eyes, his expression is a bit softer but still contorted

“You’re going to stay here, I’ll be back in a bit. I have some things I have to take care of.”

He stares at me for a moment longer, conflicted. Walking to the table near the door he lifts a waxy disembodied hand and places it over his face. He looks over his shoulder before leaving, his eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. His voice was ice cold,

“If you try to leave, I will find you and I will kill everyone you love”

I nod once, not moving. He turns and closes the door leaving me paralyzed, drowning in fear.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

[illyaana]

Tags: Angst (like a lot), Fluff (like a lot), Kaminari Denki x Reader (shoulder-length hair pls, tq), Binaural

Synopsis: You and Denki are childhood friends. When you were young, you two found this little meadow filled with wildflowers. Who'd thought your safe haven would bring back such painful feelings?

Word Count: 2812

Dont forget to check out the main masterlist of the event hosted by @kuroos-babygirl over here!

⋯⋯ ⫍ Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

The meadow you both crouched on glowed a gold hue as your fingers grazed the soft petals of the tall wildflowers, its stems rubbing against your sides. You eyed how the soft colour dusted itself on the peach skin of the boy before you, his entranced gaze stuck on the yellow and black-coloured butterfly fluttering its wings on the white-coloured flower. You enjoyed the bright smile adorned on the innocent male as he saw the now flying butterfly dance in the pale blue sky.

When’s the last time you both did this? - just walking around this little haven you both found together a year back?

Your six-year-old self reflected on all the memories they made with the seven-year-old in front of them.

It all began here - this little prairie.

Your first friend, your first wound, your first fight, your first day-out; it all took place in this land of vast greenery dusted yellow by blackeyed susans, corn marigold and bird's-foot trefoil.

It is all thanks to the adventurous, little blonde boy in front of you.

“Why are you staring, Y/N?” Denki said, nudging you.

“Just looking at the flowers, that’s all.”

A good lie, Y/N - a skilful lie.

He looked at your finger, eyeing it. Soon your hands were in his, the soft pad of his fingers trailing on the small lines of your hands. Each crevice was examined by that soft gaze of his, playing with your soft skin. His finger stopped at the scar painted on the fleshy part of your palm, a sulk forming on his lips.

“Was this from that time I dared you to jump from that tree?” He asked, guilt laced in his whispers.

It was, but you didn’t want him to know.

“Don’t worry, Denks - it wasn’t from that dare,” you say as you take your hands away from his grip, “I picked up a rock and there was a sharp end and it cut through my skin.”

He pulled your hand back into his, stretching the skin around the scar. He tried looking for clues to make sure you weren’t lying, a stressed look evident on his face.

You chuckled, gripping the side of his cheek and pinching it.

He looked at your radiant smile and all his worries washed away.

He let go of your hand and gripped your cheek in his left hand. His thumb began to rub small circles on your cheek, admiring how you leaned into his touch.

He loved how you were so at peace and calm when you were with him. You had no qualms in wasting hours listening to his dreams and aspirations, intervening once in a while to expand on his little ideas.

But you - right now, like this - is his favourite of it all.

You looked like an angel, the light from the Sun lighting your soft skin. The flowers and the very ends of your hair softly swished against the wind, forming such beautiful scenery as he took in the view unravelling in front of him.

He wondered how those flowers would look against your fingers, your hair, your ears…

He wondered how you’d look dripping in flowers.

“Sit down.”

Denki eyed the ground beneath him, looking for flowers that reminded him of you. The softness you brought, the light mood you formed whenever you were around him, the warmth you radiated whenever you were with him - he kept it all in his head as he saw the flowerbeds filled with flowers of different species.

His eyes stopped at the Black-eyed Susans that swished with the wind.

He instantly grabbed handfuls of the dainty-looking flower, hoping he had enough for the idea he had in his head.

Using his long nails, he cut the stem of the flower right down in the middle. He split one of the sections again, making three strips out of a stem. He then slowly began to braid the stems together, weaving them into a long strip.

“Stick your ring finger out, Y/N.”

You let him wrap that small strap around your finger, a determined gaze focused on the base of it.

He then inserted the end of the weaved strip into a section of the strip, securing its shape.

He took the rest of the flowers he collected and put them in his pocket as he walked behind you.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Let me do this! I have an idea,” he said, happiness lacing his words.

In a huff of annoyance, you agreed.

He began to braid the two front pieces of your hair, slowly adding the flowers he collected. He made sure that the stems were hidden behind your luscious hair. Once he finished braiding them both, he brought them to the back of your head, tying them together with the hair tie on your wrist.

“Are you finally done?” You ask, turning to face him.

You stared at his eyes focused on you, a small blush dusting his cheeks.

Angel.

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me do this, Y/N,” he replied, covering his cheeks with his arm.

You looked like an angel to him. The way your eyes twinkled, your soft lips, your cute nose, your soft skin, your gaze - it was all so perfect to him.

“Y/N,” he started, “Promise me when we get older, we’ll marry each other?”

Your eyes widen as you quickly stand up in shock.

“The hell, Denki?!” You felt blood rushing to your cheeks, “You just can’t say that!”

“I think you’re the only one that can handle me - after all, you’re still here,” he says as he rubs his chin.

“Denki, life doesn’t work like that.”

“And you know how my life is going to work? Knowing me, I’d be single until I’m 23-years old if we don’t make this promise. I’d most probably have a sugar baby-”

“Stop,” you say, holding back your laughter, “Is that your plan if you don’t get into a relationship by 23?”

“...maybe.”

You began laughing, clutching onto your stomach as you stared at him.

“Stop laughing, okay!” he says, annoyed.

“Well, at least you have goals-”

“Y/N!” He says, hitting your back.

You take a deep breath as you recollect your thoughts.

Maybe a life with him won’t be so bad.

“If I can prevent you from thinking of being a sugar daddy that early in life, then sure; we can get married.”

He smiled, grabbing your hands.

“Thank you, Y/N!”

You both hold hands as you walk out of the meadow.

“I’m picturing you with a college girl at 65-year-”

“Stop.”

.

.

.

“You’re finally back!” said Denki as he jumped into your arms.

“Yeah, I am.”

You looked at the now pro-hero in your hands. You chuckled when you felt his small grip on the back of your loosely fit university hoodie. He pressed his head against your chest, nuzzling into the soft cotton. A small hum left his lips as you ruffled his blonde hair - signalling how comfortable he felt in your hands.

God, you missed him - it felt so wrong to leave him right after graduating from UA.

However, you have become a skilled inventor - no one could doubt that. Thanks to the guidance of David Shield, you’ve made your name in the inventing world. You came back to Mustafu to build your brand - hopefully alongside your childhood friend.

“So, Chargebolt,” you teased, “Congrats on getting into the top 10 of the Hero chart! I was shocked when I found out that you - of all people - got in.”

“Hey,” He hit the back of your head, “I’m a good hero, okay?”

“I sense favouritism but okay,” you teased again.

“Not very good of you as an up and coming inventor to tease a pro-hero.”

“So the friend label is gone? Understood, sir. Have a great day,” you say as you push him off of you.

“Fine, fine, fine. Come in.”

You walk into Denki’s new apartment and a flush of memories come.

You eyed the small pictures he hung on the wall, the little trinkets he kept on his coffee table and the way he arranged his kitchen. It all reminded you of his former home - the home near that little meadow.

You miss it - you both did.

You took out the little flower ring he made all those years ago and placed it in his hands.

“Remember this?” You ask.

“You kept it?” He said, smiling, “I can’t believe you did!”

“Yeah. I book-pressed it the minute I went back,” you say, chuckling, “Y’know, I still think about that little promise we made in that meadow from now and then.”

“What promise?”

You eyed the metal band around his ring finger.

He remembers - he definitely remembers. After all, he was the one who made you agree to it.

“You didn’t tell me we were having guests, Denki.”

Your eyes fell to Jirou walking out of a room and wrapping her arms around his waist from the back. She pressed her head against his neck, her hair brushing against it. He smiled, leaning into the newfound warmth she gave.

You saw the same metal ring around her left ring finger. The same gem, the same design, the same shape - everything.

“I forgot to tell you, didn’t I? I’m engaged to Jirou! - We’re getting married later this year.”

Of course, he forgot. It was just a simple promise you both made when you were kids. It meant nothing - nothing at all.

“I’m happy for you, Denki - I really am.”

You really were.

You are happy that he finally met someone who loved him despite seeing all his flaws.

You are happy Jirou managed to see what you saw in Denki - a loveable, amazing soul with a heart of gold.

You just wished you didn’t hold onto that promise.

You wish you threw away that rotting ring when you had the chance.

You wish you never went to that meadow.

You wish you never met Denki - not like that.

You wish you never fell in love with him.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Denki said as he hugged you again.

You don’t want him to hug you.

You wanted distance - you wanted to go back to I-Island.

You don’t want to be here.

You tried to pry Denki off of you, but you couldn’t - his grip on you was too strong.

“Denki, you’re choking me,” you say whilst fake-laughing.

You looked at Jirou who smiled at his display of affection towards you.

She trusts you - she knows how much you mean to him.

You don’t deserve it - her trust is wasted on you.

You are in love with her future husband - the very person who is hugging you as tight as they can.

“Denki, they look so uncomfortable - get off,” she said, patting her shoulder.

You want to get out of here.

You need to.

“I think I’ll head to my hotel room, Denks,” you say as you grab your bags.

“But-”

“Denki,” you say as you push him off of you angrily, “I need to go, ok?”

You look at his torn expression and guilt hits you.

But it was his fault - all of this was.

He isn’t meant to cry - you are.

And here he is, tearing just at the sight of your angry expression.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Did something happen? You seemed okay when you came earlier…”

Stop crying, Denki.

“There’s nothing wrong, Kaminari. I just need to check into my hotel room, that’s all.”

Kaminari.

“Do you want me to drive you there? I-”

“It’s okay, Kaminari. I’ll get a cab.”

Kaminari.

“Y/N, we’re good, right?”

“Why would you think we aren’t, Kaminari?”

Kaminari.

You walked out of their apartment, tears trailing down your eyes.

.

.

.

You stood in the meadow you met Kaminari, eyes closed. You took in the fresh air brushing against your skin as the smell of fresh flowers invades your nose. Your now long hair felt weightless as the wind lifted it, giving you wings.

“How do I look, Y/N?”

You stared at Denki in his black tux and smiled.

He looked amazing, as usual.

His skin looked amazing against the obsidian-coloured suit. The sunlight hit his skin so well it looked like it was glowing. His hair was tousled, giving you a full view of his undercut. You chuckled when you saw the black streak of his hair hidden under his natural yellow hair - it looked as if he was trying to hide his foolish mistakes when he was a kid. You looked at his small piercing now adorned with a purple gem, reminding you of his fiance.

He’s finally getting married.

He’s getting married in the meadow where you both spent your younger years.

He’s getting married to someone else in the meadow where you both spent your younger years.

“You look good, Kaminari.”

“Why are you calling me Kaminari? Call me Denki.”

“I can’t, Kaminari.”

It would bring back too many memories.

Painful memories.

“I don’t know why you can’t, though?”

“It doesn’t feel right…”

“You’ve been calling me Denki or Denks ever since we were kids, Y/N! Hearing you call me Kaminari sounds wrong…”

“Leave it, Kaminari,” you say, hiding your feelings behind a laugh.

“No, I won’t. Call me Denks, Y/N.”

Stop.

“Later, Kaminari.”

“Not Kaminari - Denki.”

Stop.

“I promise I’ll call you that later, now go get ready.”

“I am not leaving until you call me Denki.”

Stop.

“Kaminari, just go.”

“I don’t know why you stopped calling me Denki ever since you saw Jirou that day - it doesn’t make sense. You were my first friend that called me Denks, you made that nickname - Why are you calling me by the nickname you made?”

Stop talking about it, please.

“Please, Kaminari - let it go.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him.

“I won’t until you tell me why. Did I do something wrong? Just tell me, Y/N. You know I won’t hate you no matter what happens.”

“Just drop it, ok?” You say, anger lacing your words.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Just tell me-”

“Fine.”

You forced your wrist out of his grip, making him fall on the couch.

“You wanna know why? It’s because I thought you remembered the promise we made as kids. I hoped you felt the way I did about it; I hoped you knew why I never got into a relationship.”

You gripped your phone tightly, not wanting to lash out at him anymore.

Why did you do that? Why today?

He’s supposed to be happy today.

“What promise, Y/N?”

A dark smile graced your lips.

What were you thinking? Shouting at him won’t make him remember.

Tears began to fall from your eyes as you lifted your face to see his worried face.

“It’s okay, Kaminari - don’t worry about it.”

“How can I not? You’re crying in front of me,” he said, tears forming in his eyes, “You weren’t meant to cry today.”

You weren’t either, Denki.

He got off the couch and began to hug you tightly. He pressed your head against his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N.”

You gently push Denki and cup his face in your hands. You rub the tears from his eyes as he pressed his cheek onto your left hand.

“You okay, Denks?”

Just for today, you’ll give what he wants.

Just today.

“There it is!” He said, jumping on you, “Don’t you dare call me anything but Denks again.”

“Mhmm.”

You hugged him one last time before heading to your seat, waiting for the ceremony to commence.

.

.

.

You saw how happy he stood at the altar with Kirishima by his side. You chuckled as you looked at the small banter happening between the two of them, pissing off the priest slightly. Bakugo snapped at the two of them very often, telling them to keep quiet.

Still the mother of the group.

Soon after, Jirou walked in.

She wore a white dress that tugged on her amazing figure, surrounded by lace. Dandelions surrounded her, flying in the air, encasing her in pure beauty. They danced around her as her orchestra of young kids sang and played instruments for her.

You saw how tears formed in both of their eyes as they stared at each other.

Tears of joy encapsulating how much they’ve dreamed of this moment.

While yours that showed joy hid everlasting longing.

You feel cheated - not by Denki, but the black-eyed Susans that tickled your feet.

You feel cheated by the black-eyed Susans that cleared a path for Jirou to meet her beloved.

You feel cheated by the black-eyed Susans Denki used when he was young to make you that damn ring.

Your tears watered the devilish flowers painted yellow and black that stood beneath you, taking in your pain as a drug.

[inkykeiji]

you’re all that i need, underneath the tree

characters: dabi, shigaraki tomura

genre: tooth-rotting fluff with a sprinkle of angst

notes: aaah okay! set in the break my bones but act as my spine universe, between part one and part two but after dabi’s apology!! poor dabi gets dragged out with the happy couple to go hunting for the perfect christmas tree :) | title credit: underneath the tree by kelly clarkson

warnings: pining, daddy kink (without the kinkiness), generally toxic relationships

words: 3.3k

synopsis:

And so what if you’re more excited than Tomura is about his agreeing to come, even though it was Tomura who asked for his assistance; so what if it makes his chest swell with that irritatingly tingling sensation, the one that seeps into his veins and shoots through the rest of his body, the one that makes him feel like he’s buzzing. What’s it matter, anyway?

The answer, as far as he’s concerned, is simple.

It doesn’t. It shouldn’t. It never will.

    ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅     

Snow crunches under his heavy boots as he trudges along behind you, staring at the back of your head with a glare so vicious, so ferocious it could melt platinum.

Dabi hates Christmas.

Smoke from a large bonfire, lined by families—good looking couples with tiny carbon copies of themselves, gloved hands tenderly cupping hot chocolate as the children chatter animatedly, little squeals of laughter overlapping the indistinct noise—blows into his face and he chokes on it a bit, the tiny glowing embers it carries with it through the air burning his eyes.

Dabi hates Christmas.

He’s only coming because Tomura’s his fucking boss, he had told you curtly when you swiveled around in the front seat of the Maybach to express your excitement to him, forcing his eyes to stay on the white leather beneath him, unable to bear the way he’s sure your face is falling at his sharp words. He hates Christmas.

But Tomura had snorted a little to himself the moment the words left Dabi’s lips, because God, what a fucking lie. He doesn’t voice the thought, but he doesn’t need to—it’s clear in his ruby eyes as they meet sapphire through the rearview mirror, an amused little smirk present on his scarred lips as he raises an eyebrow in mocking question.

Yeah. Alright, fine. He’s a fucking liar, so what? Yeah, alright, so maybe he’s only here because of you, because he knows that if he had refused, the entire trip would’ve been ruined, and he couldn’t have that on his conscious, couldn’t handle that on his conscious.

It’s his turn to snort at himself, rolling his eyes. What a pathetic excuse for a man. It’s a real funny joke, though; a man who can kill indiscriminately, who can kill delightfully, without batting a fucking eye as bits of skull and brain splatter on the toe of his boot, can’t handle the thought of even one more of your salty tears staining his soul.  

And so what if you’re more excited than Tomura is about his agreeing to come, even though it was Tomura who asked for his assistance; so what if it makes his chest swell with that irritatingly tingling sensation, the one that seeps into his veins and shoots through the rest of his body, the one that makes him feel like he’s buzzing. What’s it matter, anyway?

The answer, as far as he’s concerned, is simple.

It doesn’t. It shouldn’t. It never will.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

This place is way too extravagant for a Christmas Tree farm, Dabi mutters to himself as he trails behind you, seething azure darting around the venue with a deep scowl, taking note of the large stone building that doubles as a gift shop and a café—all baked goods made on the premises and handcrafted with love, of course—with crystal windows that gleam in the weak afternoon sunlight and gentle curls of smoke escaping its chimney. Scattered bonfires blaze among the grounds, each with a group of Christmas tree hunters arranged in a loose circle around it, keeping warm and roasting marshmallows. The sticky sweet scent drifts through the air, Dabi wrinkling his nose as it hits him. That soft clop-clop of horseshoes against matted snow mingles with the sound of classic Christmas music as white and brown horses pull intricate wooden sleighs around the area.

It all makes him fucking sick. God, Dabi hates Christmas.  

“Oh my gosh!” you’re gushing as you cling to Tomura. “Daddy, it’s so pretty,”

The two of you are attracting the gazes of everyone in the immediate vicinity, Dabi hunching in further on himself, trying to bury his face in the neck of his jacket. Really, he should be used to this by now. The pair of you are always a sight to be seen, with you in your little dresses—crushed black velvet this time, with a high neckline and a dainty satin ribbon tied around your ribs in a tiny, neat bow—and black trench coat, hem ending just above your knees; and Tomura in his vibrant red coat, teasingly obscuring his fitted black trousers—tailored specifically for him, of course—and black cashmere turtleneck.

It makes the two of you look like you just stepped out of the Christmas edition of a fucking high fashion catalogue. It makes Dabi feel ratty and underdressed—makes everyone around you feel ratty and underdressed, honestly—in his faded black jeans and big combat boots.

You’ve wandered off a little further ahead now, eyes glittering and bright as they soak everything in, hands clasped adoringly against your chest.

“Daddy!” you gasp suddenly, turning back to look at Tomura, eyes wide and sparkling, catching in the soft yellow glow of nearby Christmas lights. “They’re giving out hot chocolate!”

“Yes, they are, princess,” Tomura smiles, eyes softening as he gazes at you, now halted a few feet ahead of him, his hands outfitted in leather gloves clasped loosely behind his back as he strolls.

“Can I go get some?” you bounce a little on the balls of your feet as he meets you.

“Of course you can, baby,”

“Thanks! I—Do you want some, too?”

“Sure,” Tomura shrugs amicably. “Go wait in line, Daddy will be there in a moment,”

Your smile falls a little—just a hint, really, the corners of your lips twitching, a miniscule action Dabi hates that he notices—as your eyes flit between your Daddy and him, blinking twice, brow wrinkling in the cutest way. Dabi grits his teeth, hands balling into fists as he fights the itch, the urge, to reach out and smooth your skin out again. Pathetic. He’s fucking pathetic.

“Um, o-okay,”

Tomura nods encouragingly, then quirks his head towards the ever-growing lineup, as if to say get going! You obey immediately, scampering off with a cute little affirmative yelp. Dabi instantly moves to follow you, is so accustomed to having you glued to his side that watching skip off on your own like that evokes a thick panic in his chest, rising way too quickly in his throat, his mouth opening to call your name, to scold you for running off as he’s done so many times before.

“Wait,” Tomura mutters, a hand curling tightly around Dabi’s bicep, his voice low, dangerous. Brow furrowing, Dabi looks from the hand wrapped around him, to the face of its owner, and back to you again.

“Look at me,” Tomura snaps, Dabi’s tongue running along the front of his teeth as he sucks on them, keeping the insults brewing in his mouth from escaping. Scarlet eyes search his face, slowly, calmly, but every second you’re away from him has Dabi’s heart pounding harder and harder, powerless to stop his eyes from worriedly glancing your way again, only brought back to his boss’ face by a harsh squeeze around his bicep.

Tomura speaks at an unhurried pace, voice even and controlled, annunciating each word with purpose in an effort to beat them into Dabi’s scattered brain.

“Do not upset her today, or I swear to God, I’ll break your fucking nose. She’s been looking forward to this for weeks—I had to pull teeth to get this day off,”

And Dabi hates that, even in the middle of a humiliating, demeaning scolding from his boss, he can’t keep his eyes from darting towards you again, scanning the line you’re currently squished in for any potential threats, instinctual and automatic at this point, a habit. Tomura pulls on his arm a little, directing Dabi’s stare back to him again.

And he knows, goddamn it, he knows how excited you’ve been for this, how important this stupid little Christmas tree hunt is to you, because it’s all you’ve been able to babble about for fucking days now.

“Take whatever the hell you need to, to be fucking nice, you hear me?”

But he nods anyway, carves false derision into his face as his eyebrows furrow and his lips tug down, ripping his arm from Tomura’s grasp. “Yeah. Got it.”

His tone is clipped, and he doesn’t miss the way Tomura’s jaw clenches once with the grinding of his molars, smirking a little as his head tilts, crimson eyes regarding Dabi in a way that makes him feel like shivering, in a way that makes him feel exposed, naked, unprotected.

“You better.”

      ❅           ❅           ❅

“Here, Dabi!”

A jolt runs down his spine at the sound of your voice saying his name, and he turns towards you, brow knitting slightly as he’s met with a paper cup, held out to him between your two mitten-clad hands, your own drink secured precariously between your ribs and the crook of your elbow.

“What’s this?”

And he fucking hates the way his voice trembles, the way that stupid warmth starts blooming in his chest again, the way it does any time you do something small for him, any time you physically prove that you were thinking of him, too. Clearing his throat, he stares at the beverage, pointedly avoiding your eyes.

“I got you one, too,” you explain simply, pushing the streaming drink at him a little more, rich notes of chocolate and cream wafting over him, urging him to retrieve it from your tiny hands. “Take it,”

He has half a mind to lie, to tell you that he hates chocolate even though his mouth is watering, even though he knows you know he loves it, to knock the cup from your hands and watch as the hot liquid eats through the snow like a disease, melting it into nothing.

“Thanks,” he grumbles instead, looking away as he grabs it from your outstretched hands.

Tomura returns a moment later, a large red saw in his clutch. “All ready to go Christmas tree hunting, princess?”

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Dabi will always be amazed by your ability to make everyone around you fall absolutely, irrevocably, head over heels in love with you in mere moments, cobalt eyes trained on the old man holding the horses’ reins—a wide, sincere smile stretched across his face, hazel eyes positively gleaming as they gaze down at you from his spot atop the sleigh—asking you if you’d like to feed the animals, your knuckles gently caressing their velvety noses.

Maybe later, Tomura promises you when you glance back at him, whispering “Can I, Daddy?”, reminding you that there’s only a few hours of sunlight left, and if you’re on a mission to find the perfect Christmas tree, you best start soon.  

Sat in between Dabi and yourself in the tiny oak sleigh, Tomura pulls a tattered, folded piece of paper from his pocket, reciting your criteria for The Perfect Christmas Tree.

The Perfect Christmas Tree, the paper states, must encompass the four elements listed below:

It has to be the perfect mixture of forest green with those pretty blue undertones—nothing too blue or powdery!

It has to smell good but not too strong—if it’s too strong, it makes you nauseous

It has to be full—you know, not one of those Charlie Brown trees that are all branches and no body, or one of those thin tall trees—but not too bushy! Not so fat that the needles obscure the lights and ornaments

It has to be perfectly symmetrical and triangular, not lopsided or wonky

Dabi plays stupid, acts as if he doesn’t have that whole list memorized back to front, acts as if he couldn’t regurgitate it in his sleep, like he didn’t sit down with you at the breakfast bar and help you make it, even though it’s in his handwriting.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Every tree is beginning to look the same to him. The three of you have been wandering through these fields for just over an hour and a half now, and Dabi’s positive he’s about to lose all ten of his toes to frostbite.

“We are not leaving until we find the perfect tree, damn it!” Tomura spits, ruby eyes practically glowing as they fly to Dabi’s face.

“Right, right,” Dabi grumbles to himself, nodding his head a little and tucking his gloved hands under his armpits in an attempt to at least save his fingers.

But you do eventually find it, after Dabi complains about dying from hypothermia for the third time; a massive blue spruce that isn’t too blue, that smells good but not too strong, that is full but not bushy, and that tapers off into a perfect triangle—wide at the bottom and coming to a point at the top, perfectly symmetrical.

Tomura glances over his shoulder at you after he’s finished brushing off all of the snow from the tree’s branches, so you can examine it fully. “Well? Is this the one, baby?”

And the way your eyes absolutely dazzle as you gaze at it, a large, brilliant smile splitting your face as the most precious giggles hitch in your throat, head nodding in cute little motions—well, God, that makes it all worth it. In that moment, Dabi’s sure he’d endure this cold a thousand times over, would lose all of his fingers and all of his toes, just to experience that look of pure, innocent happiness on your face once again.

“Yes, Daddy! It’s perfect,”

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Even baled, this tree is a giant pain in the ass to get up to the penthouse. It takes the men a solid half hour to figure out a way to fit the tree into the elevator, gleaming droplets of sweat dripping down their faces, tufts of hair clinging to their cheeks.

“Is it still—oh, for fuck’s sake—the perfect tree?” Dabi hisses out as the three of you press yourselves against the monstrous tree, just barely stuffing yourselves into the elevator, an escaped branch digging into his cheek.

“Yes,” you snicker.

“Yes,” Tomura echoes. “Stop being a brat, Dabi,”

“I—Me? Me!” Dabi sputters, at a loss for words. Him, a brat? After everything he just did for you, Tomura’s perfect little princess?

“Yes, you,” you giggle, knocking your shoulder playfully against his bicep. Any rebuttal gets lodged in his throat as he gazes down at you, sapphire eyes softening as they meet yours, shining with mirth, unable to tame the smile tugging at your lips.

He hasn’t seen you this happy in a long time. An ache takes root at the very core of his body, agony radiating throughout his limbs as he’s hit with the dim realization that Tomura’s increasing absence affects you a lot more than he originally thought—that you miss him more than you let on—and the ache in his chest pulses, though he is unable to discern whether it pulses for you, or for him.

It takes nearly another thirty minutes to get the tree safely secured in its stand before slowly cutting through the netted baling and removing it, allowing the tree’s branches to fan out.

Isaac is immediately curious, sitting back on his hind legs and gnawing on one of the branches for a moment before leaping into the tree, lithe body curving through the boughs as he burrows his way to the trunk in the center, digging his little claws into it as you cry out his name in alarm.

“Here, I’ll get him,” Dabi offers, still kneeling on the floor from fastening the screws on the stand.

A little chuckle falls from his lips as he reaches between the branches, gathering the kitten in one hand.

“What do you think you’re doin’ in there, little guy,” he asks as he pulls Isaac from the tree, little paws swiping at the needles, trying to catch them as Dabi drags him out.

“Silly kitty,” you scold as Dabi places him gently on the hardwood. “You aren’t an ornament!”

And Dabi can’t help the genuine laugh that gets caught in his chest, gazing up at you with a fond shake of his head. “He’s gonna be real trouble around this thing, that’s for sure,”

Tomura returns then with three large boxes full of expensive, glittering ornaments in his arms, grumbling about how he had to dig through one of the spare closets to find them and dropping them unceremoniously by the tree, the items delicately clinking together.

Exhaustion weighs heavy on his chest, beginning to restrict his breathing, and Dabi takes this as his cue to depart, because truthfully, the last thing he wants right now is to have to witness you being all mushy and domestic with Tomura. Wordlessly, he heads towards the front door, already craving the soft embrace of his lush bed, eager for the bliss unconsciousness undoubtedly brings with it.

“Dabi?”

Your voice is so small, so fragile, sounds almost hurt, his hand freezing on the handle, shoulders tensing.

“You’re not staying?”

He stares directly ahead, gaze searing into the door as his body goes rigid. Please, he wants to beg, don’t start, not now, not when he knows he won’t be able to resist you.

But his name falls from your lips again, the sound so beautiful, so heartbreaking, and it pulls a deep sigh from his chest. He has no control, not an ounce of authority as his body instinctually turns towards you, the voracious need to comfort you outweighing the full, throbbing pang it inspires.

And, Christ, you look so fucking cute in your little opaque tights with fluffy, woolen socks pulled over them, clinging to your calves with cute little reindeer sown into them, toes pointed inward and overlapping just a little as you stare at him with the sweetest pout.

“Wait,” Tomura smirks, chucking a little. “You were going to leave me alone with this one, when she’s all hopped up on Christmas joy like this?”

Dabi stares at his boss, blinking rapidly, lips parting in anticipation of the words that never come.

“There’s no way I could handle her by myself today,” Tomura continues after a beat, crimson eyes shining in the warm light. “She’s got enough Christmas spirit for all three of us, and then some,”

“Daddy!” the word escapes your lips in a playful little squeal, giggles bubbling up in your throat as Tomura wraps an arm around you, pulling you against his side and nuzzling his nose against your neck. “We could really use your help,” you tell him softly, almost gently, still leaving that option for him to escape, should he choose to do so.

His heart’s thudding against his ribs as he clears his throat, tongue darting out to lick his lips, words leaving his mouth sluggishly, yet at an uneven pace, voice quivering ever so slightly.

“I-I guess I could…Stay, to help you guys decorate the tree—for a little. I mean, it is a fucking monster,”

“Ah, yay!” you beam at him, clapping your hands excitedly. “Daddy, now that Dabi’s staying, can we make cookies?”

“Sweets before dinner, princess?”

“Pretty please?” you whimper, gazing up at him with the very definition of puppy-dog eyes. “I promise I’ll eat all my veggies, even the funky looking ones—” Tomura snorts, interrupting you, but you barrel on. “—I will, I swear!”

And, really, Tomura’s powerless to resist you, to deny you, left absolutely defenceless when you’re batting your eyelashes up at him like that, voice syrupy and sweet as little fingers cling to his shirtsleeve. Dabi doesn’t blame him—your pout should be registered as a lethal weapon.

Tomura goes to call for his personal chef, but you cut him off, wrinkling your nose and shaking your head.

“No, not the fancy ones,” you say as if it’s obvious. “I wanna make the store-bought ones! Y’know, the ones in the tube—”

“The ones that you begged our personal grocery shopper to smuggle in for you?” Tomura raises an eyebrow, and you finally have the decency to look sheepish, nodding your head. “Those ones?”

“Yes! Yes, please, those ones,” you respond eagerly, waiting for that final nod from Tomura before scampering off towards the kitchen, Tomura’s voice calling after you as he warns you to be careful with the scissors!

Yeah, alright, Dabi thinks as the smell of cheap sugar cookies washes over him, nimble fingers hanging another crystal bulb on the tree while you scold Tomura for placing too many ornaments of the same colour in one spot, an involuntary grin spreading across his cheeks as that inexplicable warmth blossoms in his chest again. So maybe Christmas isn’t that bad after all.

[hangovercurse]

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About iii

Colson takes you on your first date.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, teeth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 2721

| i | ii | iv | v |

Friday couldn’t come soon enough, even though it was only 5 days after your encounter at Pete’s house. You had been texting each other all week, he would send you pictures of him in the studio and you would tell him of the various artists you were working with.

And you were both avoiding Pete like the plague.

You felt bad, you really did. You loved your older brother, a lot. But if you were around him you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from telling him about the date. You told him everything, and it was already hard enough not to tell him when you weren’t around him.

You were so nervous about hiding the date beforehand that you never stopped to consider what would happen afterwards. On one hand if it went really well, there would most likely be more, and if it went really bad, you’d have to explain to Pete why you didn’t want to be around the guy you’d gotten along so well with.

None of that crossed your mind. What did cross your mind, however, was that you had no idea where you were going. You had been asking Colson all week, trying to plan an outfit, but he wouldn’t tell you.

You’ll find out on Friday.

Okay but that still doesn’t help me

You’ll look amazing in whatever you wear

I will end you -_-

I would let you

You smiled a bit too wide when you read that, a blush coming to your cheeks.

Just wear something casual 😊

“JuSt WeAr SoMeThInG cAsUaL”

I mean you could just show up naked…

-_-

Just saying ;p

Watch yourself Kelly

I’d rather watch you

 Friday came along, and you were looking at the clock every 5 minutes. Lea, a new artist that you had been writing with for the past few months, took notice. “Someone’s got a big date tonight.”

You tilted your head and sent a joking glare to the girl. “I’m just saying, you’re looking at the clock like it’s gonna explode.” She smiled as you sighed.

“I haven’t been on a date in so fucking long, Lea.” You whined, throwing your head back, “I’m so excited.”

She chuckled, “who’s the lucky guy?” She shook her shoulders and you let out a giggle.

“I technically can’t tell you that.”

Her eyes went wide, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

You smiled widely, “technically speaking I’m not supposed to be going on a date with him. He’s kind of my brother’s best friend.”

Her jaw dropped, hands spreading on the table, “you’re joking!” You laughed loudly, shaking your head. “Y/N that’s against sibling law!”

“I know, I know. But it’s not my fault he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen and he’s into me. What was I supposed to do?” You frowned and she sighed.

“What does he look like?”

“I would show you a picture but then you would know who he is, but I can tell you he’s hot as fuck.”

Lia pouted, the wheels spinning in her head. “Wait, so he’s famous?” You bit your lip, giving her her answer. “Holy shit, Y/N! What if the press catches you guys out together? Pete’s definitely gonna see then.”

You groaned, throwing your head into your hands, “I know, but it’s just one date. And he promised it would be somewhere secluded.”

“Ohhh.” She dragged out the last sound, her voice getting higher. “Secluded, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, “you’re paying me to write songs for you, not tell you about my love life.” You giggled and she sighed.

“Fine, but if you don’t write a song about all this, I’m gonna be very upset.”

“Whatever you say, Lea.”

 I’m outside

Your heart skipped a beat when you got his text, checking yourself out in the mirror once more. “Fuck it, here goes nothing.” You mumbled to yourself before walking out of your apartment, locking the door behind you. You had told Colson to pick you up behind the building, so that if there were any paps on the street, they wouldn’t see you.

You walked out to find him leaning against his car, a smirk coming to your lips as you drank him in. He looked even hotter than that first night, and you knew you were in for trouble. When he saw you, he bit his bottom lip, a smile on his face as he checked you out.

“Hey.” You said once you got close to him. “I’m supposed to be going on this date tonight with this really hot Rockstar, have you seen him?” You tilted your head slightly.

He raised an eyebrow at you before deciding to follow along. “A hot Rockstar? Hm, no, I don’t think I have.”

“Bummer, I was really excited.” You let out a dramatic sigh.

He chuckled, “sounds like an asshole, if you ask me.”

“Oh, he totally was.” You giggle, scrunching your nose, “but the coolest asshole I’ve ever met.”

“I mean, I’m not hot asshole Rockstar but I do have a car. I could take you out instead?” You tilted your head, pretending to think about it.

“Hmmmm, I don’t know…” You trailed off, a smirk still on your lips.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand and leading you to the passenger side seat as he spoke. “Oh my god just get in the car.”

You chuckled as you sat down, him joining you a few moments later. You looked over at him as he started the car, still half convinced you were dreaming. He caught you staring, sending you a glance before he pulled from where the car was. “What?”

“Nothing.” You smiled, not looking away from him.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I am going to crash this car.” He chuckled, a blush coming to his cheeks as he paid attention to the road in front of him, trying to ignore your gaze.

You giggled, turning to face forward. “I can’t help it,” you started, “you’re nice to look at.”

He rolled his eyes, “well I could’ve told you that.”

You leaned your head back, letting out a dry laugh. “And not conceited at all.”

He bit his tongue, both of you grinning like idiots as you drove down the streets of New York. You continued to bother him about where he was taking you, but he wouldn’t budge, telling you that you would find out when you got there.

He pulled into a small dirt parking lot next to an expanse of trees. There were only two other cars in the lot, and the forest seemed secluded. He turned the car off, getting out and walking over to open your door, helping you up. “This is cute.” You said, taking in the scenery around you. It wasn’t very often you got to be around nature without a lot of people crowding the wildlife.

Colson smiled as he opened the trunk, pulling out a literal picnic basket and blanket. “Yeah, well, you’re cute. So, I thought it would be fitting.” You blushed, reaching out to try and take the blanket from his hand but he moved it out of your reach.

You pouted, “well I was gonna try and hold your hand but both of your hands are full so I guess I’ll just have to suffer.”

Colson rolled his eyes, shifting so that the blanket rested on top of the basket all in one hand, grabbing yours with the other. You intertwined your fingers with his, the feeling very natural. You had never been this straight-forward with a guy, especially one you just met, but it just came so easily with Colson. “All you had to do was ask, princess.”

Your cheeks turned red at the nickname, so you turned your head away from him slightly. He chuckled at the movement and you pouted. Colson swung your arms as you walked onto a trail leading through the forest. “This is really cheesy, you know that, right?” You asked, looking up at him.

He nodded, meeting your eyes, “Yeah, I know.”

“Very un-Rockstar-like.” You commented. “If anyone found out you were a hopeless romantic your reputation would be ruined.”

“No one would believe you if you told anyone.” He laughed, “but you have to admit, this is gonna be the best first date you’ve ever been on.”

You were too distracted by his blue eyes to notice the scenery around you, the beautiful trees swaying with the slight breeze, the sound of water rushing in the distance. “I guess we’ll see.” You smirked; your tongue pressed against your bottom teeth.

“You are mean.” He muttered, shaking his head. You giggled, finally taking your eyes off his and finding the shoreline a few hundred feet in front of you. Your smile widened at the sight and you squeezed his hand.

“You really are a hopeless romantic.” You giggled as your feet hit the sand and Colson groaned at your words. “I like it!”

He grinned at you as you grabbed the blanket from his arm, spreading it out. “Well, we couldn’t exactly go out to the city without risking being seen and you deserve better than my house. So, you get a picnic on the beach.”

You rolled your eyes as he set the picnic basket down, sitting on the blanket and pulling you down next to him. “Just say you thought it would be romantic.”

“I never said I didn’t!” He opened the basket, pulling out various dishes and setting them onto the blanket in front of you. He then pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

You raised your eyebrow, “didn’t take you as a wine drinker.” You giggled

His eyes went wide, “just let me have this, woman.”

“I wasn’t complaining, I just think it’s kind of funny.” He rolled his eyes as you leaned into him, his arm wrapping around you. “Seriously, though, this is really sweet. No one has ever taken me on a picnic date.” You leaned your head against his shoulder, smile never leaving you.

“If you tell anyone I did this I’ll kill you.” He mumbled and you hid your laugh.

“I thought no one would believe me?” You looked up to his face, taking in his sharp jawline. You wanted to lean up and press your lips to it, but you resisted the temptation. You felt his chest move as he laughed silently, pulling you even closer to him.

The rest of the night passed just as easily, conversation flowing naturally between you and Colson. He told you all about his daughter, his friends, and the movie that he and Pete had wrapped. You talked about your music and the people you were writing for. It was easy to just exist around him, something that didn’t happen with very many people. Colson was real and open and made everything else seem to just disappear. You could understand why Pete had taken such a liking to him.

You two had stayed long after the food was gone and the sun had set. Colson brought out two candles and lit them, making you swoon even further. It was like a fairytale, and you never wanted to leave.

Throughout the night there were moments when you almost grabbed his face and kissed him, and you were sure he felt the same way. But you didn’t want to mess up what was going so well by moving too fast. And you still hadn’t discussed the not-so-small challenge of your relationship, Pete.

Eventually, when you had almost fallen asleep in his tattooed arms, Colson decided you guys had best be leaving. You packed up the food and candles, making jokes and basking in each other’s presence. Once Colson had placed everything back in the trunk, he made his way over to the passenger side door that you were leaning against.

He placed his hands against the car on either side of you, leaning down to be as level as possible with you. “I had a lot of fun tonight.” You said, softly.

His face was dangerously close to yours, the intimacy taking your breath away. “I did too.” His voice matched yours. His eyes wandered your face, occasionally drifting down to your lips before pulling away.

“I really like you, Colson.”

He smiled widely; his eyes gleaming. “I really like you too, Y/N.” He mimicked your phrasing. “What would you say if I said I wanted to take you out again?”

Your tongue peeked out between your lips slightly, “I guess you’ll have to ask and find out.”

He let out a sigh, “you are not gonna go easy on me, are you?” You shook your head, your smirk reaching your eyes. “Good.” He whispered, leaning in closer to you. You could move forward and close the gap between your lips, but you weren’t going to be the one to make the first move. “Will you go out with me again? Soon?”

You smiled at his eagerness, “I would love to. How soon?”

“Does Sunday make me sound too eager?”

You tilted your head, humming. “Nah, Sunday’s perfect.”

“Would it make this night better or worse if I kissed you right now?” His words made your heart flutter, your arms moving up his chest to rest lazily on his shoulders.

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” He chuckled at that, glancing up.

“What have I gotten myself into?” He whispered but the smile on his face screamed volumes.

You giggled softly, “are you gonna kiss me or not?”

His smile widened before he leaned in to meet your lips. His hands moved to your waist as you pulled him closer to you by his neck. This kiss was different from the first ones you shared, it was soft and sweet. You weren’t hungry for each other, dancing in the dark to hide from your brother and taking the few moments you could get, you were just two people kissing for the sake of it.

He pulled away slowly, his nose still touching your own. You both stood there for a while, enjoying the feeling of the other and the breeze that blew between you. Finally, he mumbled, “We should probably get going.” Despite his words, he didn’t move.

You nodded in agreement against him but also made no effort to get in the car. Instead, you leaned forward and captured his lips in yours again. It was small and quick, but just as sweet. “Fuck I’m already so far gone.” Colson mumbled before pushing himself off of you, his eyes locked on yours.

You blushed, leaning off the car and finding the handle. “You aren’t the only one.”

 Your hand was intertwined with his the entire way home, both of you grinning like idiots as music played quietly on the radio. “I don’t want to be the one to bring it up, but what are we gonna tell your brother?” He asked, his eyes on the road.

You sighed, looking out the window, “I don’t know yet. I don’t wanna hide anything from him but at the same time if we told him he’d freak out.”

“But why would it bother him that much?” Colson asked, and you frowned.

“I don’t know, I think he’s worried about what happens if we break up. He doesn’t have many close friends and he seems to really like you, so he doesn’t want to have to choose between us or feel awkward around us if things end badly.”

Colson nodded, thinking. “But he wouldn’t pick me over you, ever. I wouldn’t let him.”

“Yeah, and he knows that but it doesn’t make it any easier for him.” You sighed. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll try and bring up the idea and see how he reacts.”

“It’s your decision. And if you decide that you don’t wanna do this with me because of Pete, I’d completely understand.” You smiled at his words, your heart melting at his thoughtfulness.

You squeezed his hand, “You are so much sweeter than you let people think, you know that?” He nodded, a soft smile on his features. “I’m not giving up on this.” You whispered.

“I won’t either.” He glanced over at you, briefly taking in your angelic appearance before turning his eyes back to the road.