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g--r-e--e-n · 4 years

Text

The Crow

A late Mammon x GN!MC for the Max thingy!

Warnings: It obviously talks about a crow, just in case. The ending might seem quite rushed, I'm sorry, it was already too long :(. No spoilers, everything is before the MC's actual arrival to the Devildom.

Loud music echoing all around your house, singing and dancing like a madman through the corridors like it was no body's business, mopping the floor and trying to make something nice out of your free days.

Everything was perfect, just the way anyone would have always liked it. Yet, somehow… It felt empty, bitter, almost painful.

It hadn't been long since you and who you thought was your other half broke up. But you couldn't allow yourself to feel sad, not now.

You're young, you're strong, and you have a lovely future. You repeat it over and over, trying to turn the music louder than any thoughts you may have. It might not be the easiest thing to do, but trying won’t murder you, will it?

Finally there was not a single shadow of dust in your apartment. Not that there was anything before, but it helped keeping yourself busy. Now, finally, you only had to get rid off all the rubbish you somehow managed to collect.

You reluctantly turned off the music and made your way to the bins. Luckily, they weren't too far away: It was a cold, rainy day, and you'd rather stay at home instead of fighting the wind with your little umbrella,your hair a mess and your socks now wet.

Your day couldn't really get worse, yet you started doubting it the second you saw something dark moving in between feral pieces of litter someone didn't care about enough to throw correctly.

For a second you started believing in ghosts and God knows what but,soon enough, you saw a crow's deep black feathers, a painful caw breaking through the air like a thunder.

It was hurt, hungry, wet and cold. You could see how it bended it's right wing, unable to fly, a poor creature begging you with it's eyes, deep as the galaxy, were you clearly saw yourself, wet hair sticking to your face, comfortable yet not too fashionable clothes, eye bags hanging from your eyelashes, as pitiful as the poor bird in front of you, even if your wound was emotional rather than physical.

You didn't think twice before throwing your own raincoat over the creature, knowing that holding it with your bare hands would be rather dangerous.

Soon you headed home, crow surrounded in plastic like some bizarre newborn baby. It seemed to be weirdly docile, given its nature, but you soon learned to give it its space, holding it away from your face, barely able to keep the umbrella over your soaked bodies.

As soon as you get home, you lay him down carefully, keeping an eye on him and slowly getting rid of your wet shoes and reaching your phone.

The bird seemed scared, but it didn't move, eyes staying fixed on yours, its screams sounding more like begging than dangerous.

You soon sent a message to your good old friend Liam. Sure, Google is interesting, but Liam is your neighbor, a vet, and you've known him for years. This is not your first time rescuing feral animal in danger, so you knew for a fact you can rely on him.

Soon, he messaged you back, telling you that he's on his way with a cage so he can take the crow to the clinic. You couldn't help but chuckle, of course Liam wouldn't allow you to take the poor little thing in your arms, knowing how it could reduce your skin to vaguely human-flavored threads.

However, this also left you with a couple minutes alone with this somehow magnificent king of dumpsters. After observing him from a while, you walk backwards towards the kitchen. As soon as you could, you reapeared, hard bread on your hands and a smile on your lips, seeing how the bird stood still. Not that he had much option, of course. His right leg didn't seem too fine either.

Breaking a small piece of bread, you carefully and pretty cowardly throw it at the crow, thinking it would land before him, but being rather amused by the way the creature just catches it ever so quickly.

When Liam came, you had almost ran out of bread, and both the crow and you seemed so engaged in the game of throwing and catching that you barely realized the young man walking into the room, hair wet and a miracously almost dry cardboard box that you supposed was originally meant for holding fruit at the market,

You almost jumped when you heard him call you by your name, but soon your fear turned into a warm and welcoming hug, never minding his cold body, or how the crow ruffled its feathers, wishing it could growl in this pitiful form that barely managed him to caw drily. Something about the tall brunette slowly stroking your lower back managed to piss it off.

"Oh my God, you are such a mess!" Happily, and always positively, saluted you Ian. At times you feel like he doesn't really know when he's not supposed to be sincere, but not wanting to keep your new little friend waiting, you decide to keep your big mouth shut. "So... Where's our guy?"

His bright smile calms you down a bit, but its effects are quickly reversed by how the crow clumsily tries to run away, jumping on its one functional leg, only tangling itself with the raincoat still surrounding it.

Liam gives you a raised eyebrow. "I know I told you not to touch it too much, but a blanket would've been nice, you know?"

You simply shrug it off, not wanting to admit that you got too distracted feeding it to even be a decent human. The crow apparently agrees with Liam, because suddenly it's easy to move around again. You probably thought it was simply a funny coincidence, because, well crows are clever but, as far as you know, not THAT clever.

Who would've thought a poor demon would've gotten cursed by some witch? Not you, or not seriously, at least. As much as you love those sort of themes, reality doesn't allow them to become true.

A crow is just a crow, as clever as it could be. Not more, not less.

“Whatever. Let's do our thing, it's getting so late..." You softly sighted, eyes slowly dancing towards your window, the sky getting darker every second. Too invested in cleaning your bad memories out, you had barely realized how time had passed. Did you even have lunch?

If Liam noticed the brief sadness in your expression, he decided to leave you be, carefully holding the injured crow before leaving him in the cardboard box. The bird moved, cawed, yes, but he didn't seem to put too much of a fight. After all, Mammon might be a fool, but he'd much rather get back to Lucifer as soon as possible, thank you very much. Hanging upside down is not a pleasant experience.

Soon you were silently in Liam's car, the box resting in the backseat. Your friend's warm brown eyes were fixed in the road, but you both knew each other too well. He knew you were having a bad time. You knew he was plotting something.

"You know, after we drop our new son..." He softly said, taking a turn to the right. You braced yourself, both for his harsh driving and the proposal in coming. "We could go to the club, like in the good old days."

You softly laughed it off, even knowing Liam would easily catch the bitter feeling growing in your throat. "You know I'm trying to save my money, Liam. It doesn't grow from trees."

"I mean, technically..." He shrugged, turning now to the left. Even if he was being particularly gentle in order not to turn your feathery friend into a smoothie, you still had to stop yourself from screaming when the car almost ran over an elderly lady. "C'mon! There's a zebra cross like... Eleven meters away?!"

You slightly turned, sighing in relief seeing the crow is still safe.

"What I was saying" Liam continued, much to your dismay "I can pay for you, you know? I'm gaining some good cash now, and I don't have that many expenses. Plus, I'm pretty sure I owe you one from back in highschool."

A faint, but at least genuine laugh was thrown into the air as memories came back. Summer nights lying in the sand, gossiping and laughing, having a good time. "You dummy, that was ages ago! I just... Don't feel like going anywhere crowded."

"What about my place then? I've got some nice cheap booze. You look like you could use it."

He teasingly flashed you a bright smile before finally hitting the brakes and getting off the car. It was hard, but you managed to get out without fainting along the way.

"Well, thank you very much sir. You too look alluring" you sarcastically commented, before going to pick up the crow that stared at you so firmly with its jet black eyes that you felt the void within them could shallow you entirely any time.

Mammon doesn't have the best attention spam, or any sort emotional intelligence, but bring money to the equation and it may just change.

The human was short on money. Something Mammon, of course, understood very well. The human, even if a lowly human, had also saved him.

His little braincells were working hard, wondering if it was right to do what he thought to do. What if you were some terrible person underneath? What if you were a witch looking for a pact?

Luckily, he didn't have much time to drown himself in conspiracies, for soon he wad bring brought to the vet, and, by the way he was moving around, he did not enjoy it.

"Oh, C'mon, buddy..." You softly complained, struggling to hold onto the cardboard while Liam opened the clinic's door, fighting against the key. "I know it hurts. Just... Hold on a little, alright? Be a brave little boy for me"

You smiled at the crow, Liam suddenly laughing his soul off, loud enough for you not to pay much attention at the effect your words had had on the poor creature emiting broken caws.

"Do you always have to do that?" He mercilessly mocked you, finally opening the door and holding it for you, mainly because your arms were too busy, both with the crow and the hard fight against yourself to keep you from strangling Liam. "Come in, leave it on my table and wait outside, alright? Here, get yourself some coffee."

He absent mindedly thew you a coin. When Liam entered the clinic, he was no longer your dear and annoying friend Liam. He was the doctor. And the doctor was very cool at doing his thing, but pretty much useless at anything else.

Useless enough to throw a coin to someone holding a crow.

Of course, you couldn't just drop the guy or get the coin with your mouth like some dog, so you simply stared at him waiting for the realization to kick in. However, to your surprise, the crow threw itself as the coin, with as much grace as a bird with a wounded leg and wing can throw themselves at anything, which is, sadly, not much.

Luckily you did manage to keep him from failing, a soft smile flourishing as you saw him holding onto the coin.

"Please? I want to finish soon, the rum won't finish itself tonight." Liam was now in front of you, slightly surprising you. Trying your best to hide it, you hand him the crow. He simply sighed, struggling a bit to take the coin out from his beak, holding it out to you while taking the crow like a perfect choreography. "There you go."

You exaggerated an angry face as he petted your head a few times, managing to keep the animal in one arm like it was just natural before disappearing after the door.

Liam didn't like having you around while he works, specially if he knows it can involve anything even a bit gruesome. But this time you simply feel the need to be there with the pitiful crow, to help him and bring some hope into his beautiful eyes that seemed ever so intelligent.

The loud caws only made it worse, so you decided to get some coffee into your life.

Coffee at the clinic is bitter and far too strong, but Liam insists it's the only thing keeping him from falling asleep after specially complicated shifts.

You didn't really think twice before chugging it down, regretting it immediately. You were already nervous enough, why add caffeine?

You soon began wandering around the waiting room you knew so well, roaming next to the door to try and catch a glimpse of what could be going on in its guts. Liam is a good bet, but, what if something had gone wrong? What if it was not fixable?

A crow is not something you can keep in your house, is it? What would you do then? The closest animal rescue center is so far away, but perhaps you could take a few days off your obligation. After the whole situation with your ex, it’s very much needed.

Your constant thinking was soon relieved by a softly smiling Liam walking in with the crow resting in the cardboard box, looking all over like it too felt uncomfortable there. Its broken wing had been carefully wrapped in what experience told you was coflex. You couldn’t see his leg, but it must be in a similar situation.

“Our little man here has beheaved just fine” Liam said, softly. As much as he always made fun of how you spoke to animals, he was not that different. I mean, he did dedicate his whole life to this, didn’t he? “He should be able to fly in… Perhaps two weeks? It’s not a multiple fracture, which is rather relieving, but who knows.”

You slightly frowned. You did expect something similar, of course, but you wouldn’t normaly expect a bird with a broken wing to be half as lively as this one had been. A part of you admired his strenght, yes, but the other one felt simply curious.

“What about the leg?” you softly ask, bending a bit to see the creature eye to eye, barely saving enough distance to ensure your safety. “It couldn’t walk. What is it?”

“Give it around five or seven days and he will be walking all over” He tried your best to cheer you up, so you decided to at least gift him a little smile. “And he even seems to be eating well, so no need to worry, alright?”

You noded, standing up again to throw the empty cup of coffe in the bin, its bitter taste slowly dissappearing from your mouth as this new, warm feeling took you all over.

“So… Your house, right?” You flash Liam a smile while taking the crow carefuly. It seems to struggle against it for a bit, but soon relaxes. What else could it do?

Liam didn’t even bother to confirm what you already knew to be true, as he opened the doors once again and you stepped outside, the night’s cold air against your skin. Before you even realized it, you were siting in his kitchen, the crow resting on the counter, warm tears on your face, the burning feeling of alcohol down your throat… And dedscending through a rabbit hole of blurry memories and complains.

Trust me, there are many things you regret. But getting ever so wasted is deffinetly within the number ten.

You wanted to keep on with your life, you wanted to do your best, to show yourself you didn’t need any “other half” to be completed. You know, being active and stuff, putting yourself together.

But here you were, laying down in your bed on a Saturday afternoon, staring at your ceiling in pain and hunger, too hangover to even sit up and absolutely obliterate the bird that was screaming so loudly. God, that surely is another big regret of yours right now.

Still, you didn’t have the heart to let it starve, not again, so you slowly roll out from bed, holding your head with your hand, the same clothes you wore yesterday all wrinkled around your body.

“I know, I know.” You complain as if the bird knew what you were saying, too naive to realice he, in fact, was. It didn’t take you long to cross your rather small appartment to reach the kitchen, were you apparently dropped the bird yesterday, not that you remember much about it. You lazily searched for the bag Liam had given you, filled with sunflower seeds and… Crickets?

You look at the bird, hesitating a bit before sighing and walking towards it, leaving the open bag for it to eat and, hopefully, not get your floor too dirty. It seemed to be pretty hungry, as it devoured his meal without a single complain, quicker than ever. After all, Mammon was used to eat before Beelzebub could even dream of stealing his dear fuel.

Oh, how he missed his brothers. What could they be doing? Perhaps they didn’t even realice. Perhaps they were happier that way. He has always been “the scummy second born”, after all, so isn’t it a favour to dissapear like this?

You didn’t quite understand what was going on, but you did realice the way the crow’s eating speed decayed. Before struggling a bit against yourself and your huge headache, you spread your arm towards the bird, not daring to touch it, relieved when it didn’t seem too keen on murdering you, at least by the moment.

“Come here, little guy…” You carefuly stroke his head a few times. It seemed to enjoy it, but you still felt a bit too insecure to maintain the contact for too long. “You will be flying again in no time.”

You soon went to do your own thing, drink your pretty late breakfast, sit by the counter and silently tink of some name for your newfound friend. Little did you know this was but the start of a very wicked story.

The bird, who, to Mammon’s dismay you had called Liquorice, proved to be a rather interesting company, even when he could not move that much for the first few days. You found yourself spending most of your free time playing with him, or even telling him your deepest of secrets, not like he could judge you.

It was relaxing, no façade to be held, not a lie to be uttered. It was Liquorice and you, and it felt perfect. Either way, seeing how clingy he slowly grew to be, it’s not like it was one sided.

In four days the crow could already run around, and it seemed to want to look outside. Of course Mammon loved your company, but he was still worried. A part of him thought it was foolish, that nobody would miss him, but he knew Lucifer far too well.

Seeing how his wing wasn’t still healed, you decided to accompany him to his little walks all over the town’s outskirts, and it seemed to even strenghthen your relationship. You still cound’t be anywhere with people or vehicles, but fresh air was nice enough to make your black and white world broaden a bit.

Days passed by quicker than either Mammon or you would’ve thought, too lost in your little shennanigans to even mind the clock. Soon the crow was able to fly, as you discovered when it leaped from the fridge to the hallway, happily cawing around.

At first it was a happy moment, and you soon sent a hundred videos to Liam to show him how the little crow was doing so well. However, soon both of you had to face a realization: His time here was over.

Liquorice was a wild animal as far as you were concerned, of course, and you did not have the guts to keep him trapped. Not after knowing how that felt. However, something inside you felt uncomfortable with the idea of seeing your house empty again. Mammon, of course, also felt uneasy, but for very different reasons.

You see, for you this all had been helping a very funny crow. But he was a tad more conscious of the whole situation, and trust me, it was putting him through hell. Sure, he wanted to return to his brothers, but… What about this human?

He tried to convince himself this was just him wanting to protect a weak being as a “thank you”, but his lie was too obvious to ignore. He had seen you at your worst, in the nights when you drank alone and talked for hours about someone he simply knew did not deserve you. He had seen you at your best, dancing all across your house when you recieved any good news, cooing at him when he did even the smallest of things, like it was a great archievement you could barely believe. You had hold him close, you had kissed the top of his head, stared for ages into his eyes, not realizing the effect none of your actions had in him. He had slowly started to care, and he was not enjoying that idea, but what could he do?

He’s just a crow, and now that there’s no excuse for you to keep him around, it’s his time to go and dissapear, turning into a vague memory. God, why did he feel so impotent now?

You both struggled against yourselves in silence, until you came up with an idea.

“Let’s give it a day, alright, buddy? Just to see if you still remember how to move those wings of yours”

You showed him an empty smile he could tell from miles apart, but he couldn’t do much about it, drowning too deep into his own feelings.

The following day, both of you stayed at home, playing your little games of fetch, you laughing at how the crow beheaved almost like a little puppy, him silently swooning over the sweet sound of your laughter, almost forgetting the bitterness of the situation until night actually fell and it was time to close this wonderful little adventure.

You were both lying in the living room when night came, exhausted from running around, breathing heavily with a big smile to your face like it didn’t hurt.

“You know… I think it’s time already, right?” You slowly stand up, yawning softly. You didn’t really get too much sleep last night, and you sure as hell needed it. “Time to be free, little guy! Here, come.”

You carefully pick him up, close to your chest. You knew him too well to think he would hurt you, and the warmth was greatly appreciated by Mammon, who snuggled a bit within your embrace, trying to save this moment forever deep in his memories.

Being the avatar of greed, he’s used to the feeling of wanting, and, at times, not being able to. Yet, somehow, it didn’t stop this ugly feeling from blossoming in his now feathery chest. He felt so pathetic like this, so worked up because of a human being.

He and his brothers knew very damn well this wouldn’t lead anywhere nice. What could he do? Even if he managed to stay here, he knows his family can’t take another Lilith, and every second he spends here it’s harder not to fall even deeper for this trap his father seemed to have laid just for him.

Mammon convinced himself it was for the better, and soon did you. When you set him free to fly in the park next to your house, he didn’t even bother to look back as you screamed your goodbyes, the poor people around the park staring at you with a raised eyebrow as you soon deinflated with a big sight, knowing your routine was back to haunt you forever.

And of course, it did. You were back to doing your thing, spending your afternoons either with Liam and his new boyfriend or watching bad movies all by yourself, barely feeling certain melancholy as you found some stray feather hidden in your couch.

Liquorice was gone. Little did you know Mammon was not.

The young boy had found Lucifer as soon as he had left the park, and their little chat had been… Interesting. But at least it didn’t lead to his death, but rather to some extra chores and, finally, the hex coming undone, which meant he could always try to come back, even if he could no longer take certain adventage of your inocence.

Of course he went back to the House and Lamentation, and was made to attend every RAD lesson, but as soon as he was out of sight he was already walking over to your house, “accidentally” bumping you in the street from time to time, always trying his best to hide his identity, knowing you would probably be weirded out by always seeing the same guy around, and how easily his fluffy white hair and glasses could be told from any crowds.

You didn’t really think much of the many faceless guys you happened to encounter, of course. But what really made you ask yourself certain questions was the amount of little things showing up on your window frame, from stray coins to little glittery plastic jewelry. You didn’t want to think too much of it, but thinking it was Liquorice warmed your heart a little, and it was much less disturbing that thinking some random guy was passing daily around your home.

Mammon couldn’t help but swoon over the way you smiled, pressing his little gifts to your chest and looking through the window, the poor demon barely managing to stay invisible and attached to a tree he didn’t trust that much (C’mon, human, what made ya think livin’ on a fith floor was a good idea?), too scared to face you, too scared to leave.

Who would’ve told him it would be you, even if dragged by his dearest (and very aware) brother who would eventually face him, a feather necklace on your neck, smiling unkowingly and turning his little world upside down?

#Obey me #obey me mammon #om!#obey me swd #Obey me fanfic #om! swd #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #mammon x you

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ourloveisforthelovely · 5 years

Text

Lessons

AU Supernatural (story rewrite)

Warning: Dark Gabe one-shot. Smut. Dub con. Trigger warning

Words: 2,236

Summary: You are tired of Gabriel ignoring you. After sneaking out when being told not, you quickly learn that pissing Gabriel off can be a good or a bad thing.

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

_____

“Gabriel, please. I need you.”

Nothing

You sighed. It was just another prayer. Another prayer that was wasted. Just a GIANT fucking waste of your time! You sat down on the hotel bed with an exasperated sigh.

It had been months since you had seen Gabriel. After being with someone for two years then absolutely nothing as far as contact was miserable! He didn’t mind to keep her up in a fancy hotel but heaven forbid if he made contact.

After Gabriel returned from the empty, he was different. He was cold and dark. You were convinced that after AU Michael stabbed him, any bit of good was drained from your favorite archangel. You had to get used to a whole new lover!

You were used to Gabriel staying away for long periods of time. He had started helping Cas with a pending war with Michael. You understood that but what you didn’t get was why he couldn’t give you any sign that he was okay. You were not asking him to walk away from the conflict or give up just a hey I am okay. I’ll see you soon.

The last time that you had seen Gabriel something was off. He wasn’t 100% there. He seems almost on autopilot and was rougher than he had ever been when it came to making love. In fact, he had threatened you when she mentioned going back home to your mother’s.

“You’re mine. You aren’t going anywhere. When I come back, you better be right here waiting for me.”

You only nodded, not sure what to say to your lover as he turned and disappeared without another word.

Now here you sat on that same bed staring at the wall like a caged bird.

“Gabriel, if you can hear me you better get down here! You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Again nothing

“That’s it! I’m going out.”

You said, coldly. When no archangel appeared in the room you stood. You were tired of being the dutiful lover. If Gabriel didn’t have the time for you then you didn’t have the time to sit here and let your life waste away. So what if he was keeping you young and healthy? If he didn’t come at the threat of you walking out then he would probably have no clue that you went to do something outside of the hotel room.

Walking into the nearest most sleazy bar possible, you took a satisfied breath. In your mind, you were mentally shooting your boyfriend the bird as you walked inside. You didn’t care that your black dress was too short or if when you bent over the whole world would see your lady bits. Right now alcohol, lots of alcohol, was on your mind.

Sitting down on the first stool, you smiled as the bartender walked over.

“Time for some fun.”

You thought. The bartender handed you a small menu.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?”

You smiled.

“Jack and coke.”

The bartender nodded before going to prepare your drink.

“I like a girl that can handle whiskey.”

You turned to face a man with dark eyes and neatly styled brown hair. He looked taller than Gabriel but would stand no match when it came to the archangel. No man in this bar would!

“Yeah? Well, I can handle it pretty well.”

You said with an innocent smile. Normally you would be ashamed of your behavior. Tonight, however, not a fuck was to be given.

“I think that is amazing. My name is Ryan.”

You eagerly shook his hand.

“Y/n.”

It didn’t take long and very many shots of Jack before you were forgetting all about your pain over Gabriel. In fact, you hadn’t thought his name in a while. Ryan and his funny stories were almost too perfect. He was making you laugh about the smallest things.

“Hey wanna go outside? I need a smoke.”

Ryan asked with a funny grin. You quickly picked up the small handbag that you had brought before following Ryan outside. You didn't notice that Gabriel's name was lighting up on your cell phone until you reached the door. With a drunken shrug, you pushed ignore and walked out.

Ryan quickly lit a cigarette before looking to you.

“I've had a good time tonight. You're really pretty. Do you got a man?”

You shrugged.

“When he wants to be. Haven't heard from him in a while.”

Ryan nodded.

“Works out of town.”

You laughed coldly.

“You could say that.”

Ryan took a drag on his cigarette before looking a little more intense.

“Why don't you come home with me? You look like you haven't been fucked enough.”

Before you could respond blood shot out of Ryan's mouth and a bloody gash appeared on stomach immediately soaking through his white shirt. Your eyes widened as the man hit the ground. Your eyes rolled up to see Gabriel standing behind the now-dead Ryan looking like he was ready to raise hell.

“Gabe...Gabriel!”

You managed to squeak. Gabriel's honey eyes looked cold and here was something sinister about them as he looked at you.

“Having fun, honeybunch?”

You blinked as Gabriel stepped over Ryan like he was a piece of garbage in the road. Before you could respond, Gabriel's hand was around your throat.

“I asked if you had fun? I suggest you answer me.”

You swallowed as Gabriel increased the pressure.

“Well, I was. What are you doing here?”

Gabriel seemed to ignore your answer as he looked at your scantily clad appearance.

“Are you a fucking idiot?! I could hear everything you were doing! It was all over the damn angel radio! Where the hell are your clothes? I know you have them. What did you expect to get out of all of this? Some mortal to take you back to their place and fuck you silly. I have news for you sweetheart that isn't going to happen.

You pushed Gabriel off and yanked the shoulder strap of your dress up.

“What the fuck does it matter to you?! You don't ever show the fuck up anymore! So what if I want to go out and have a little fun. Not like you give a good god damn. Oh look at that I said god! Naughty me!”

The look on Gabriel's face showed nothing but fury and rage!

'That's it! I have had it with you! You have gone way over the line! I tell you to stay in the hotel room and here you are like a damn streetwalker.”

Gabriel reached out grabbing your hand. The next thing you knew the two of you were standing in the hotel room. After the room stopped spinning, you looked back to Gabriel who was still beyond livid. He walked over pulling you to him for a rough kiss. You cried out the moment his teeth latched onto your bottom lip and his hand roughly squeezed your left butt cheek.

“Gabe!”

You moaned his name as his kiss eased up into a gentle and almost romantic kiss. Gabriel quickly pushed you away and onto the bed. Your eyes rolled up as he towered over her.

“Time for a little lesson on how our relationship works. You do what I tell you and you won't get punished like you are about to now. I am done being sweet to you. You're mine and that's it. I'll kill any worthless person that gets in my way. You were about to put out for another man so I am going to fuck you like the whore that you are.”

He reached down quickly ripping the black dress from your body leaving you naked below him.

“Gabriel, what is wrong with you? This isn't you.”

You cried out as he yanked his own shirt over his head in a blind rage. Gabriel looked down at her with a cold smirk.

“This war has changed me, peach. You get what you fucking get!”

You were scared! Scared and slightly turned on....however, you were afraid to admit the last part. Maybe you could pray to Cas for help. He would show up if she needed something.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

Gabriel sneered coldly as he reached down slamming a finger into your wet core.

“Ah, you're wet...just like I expected. You really are a slut. You know the safe word.”

He growled as he curled his finger letting his thumb stroke over your clit. You threw your head back into the pillow as Gabriel continued his assault. Maybe you were going to enjoy this after all.

“Gabriel, please. I love you.”

“Ha....yeah right and I was born yesterday. Let me tell you a thing precious...”

Gabriel took his hand away as he began to undress. You couldn't help wondering why he wasn't just using his grace to undress like normal.

“You are all mine. Mine to pleasure. Mine to taste and most importantly mine to love.”

Gabriel elongated the word “love” before his grace slammed into your body at full force. You cried out as the pressure inside of your body intensified. It felt just like Gabriel fucking you, yet this was different. There was something that made this even more intense. It went on until you were unable to cry his name instead you were praying. Gabriel chuckled.

“That's right sweetheart. Pray to me. Look at us. Me using my god-given powers to fuck you into next week while you moan like a dirty harlot. We would both be fucking crucified in heaven for this. It's worth it though...seeing you spread open like this just waiting for me to touch you. I could look at it all day.”

You cried out again. This time you were finally able to get some verbal words out.

“Gabriel, please. I'm sorry. I was so angry. I was worried about you. It has been too long since I saw you and I needed....”

“Shut up.”

The archangel said coldly before making his grace stop. You gasped, as your chest heaved. You were thankful that he had given you a few seconds break. It wasn't long until his cock was slamming into you.

“You just thought that you were going to get away without this huh? Did you think that I wouldn't claim what was mine? Well, you're wrong.”

Gabriel's hand found its way back to your throat as he forced you to look into his eyes.

“Don't you dare shut those eyes. If you do it will be the last thing you ever do. Do you hear me?”

“Yes!”

You squealed as Gabriel's increased the pace of his thrusts each time his cock feeling bigger than it was the moment before.

“You leave this hotel room again...”

You shook your head, however, deep down you were wondering if you left again would it get you this rough sex a second time? Whether you wanted to admit it or not you were enjoying this..

“I won't....not without you! I've learned my lesson.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“I don't believe you. Sugar snap, I have seen hell and I know what liars look like. You are just saying shit to make me happy. Best thing you can do is hush. Ah, what the hell. You don't need that voice. I took John's voice away in the bible not to mention that overgrown Dean Winchester and his brother. What does yours matter for a little bit?”

Gabriel snapped and you no longer had the ability to speak. He grinned looking like a mirthful child at Christmas.

“Much better.”

Gabriel said softly as he went back to pummeling your body harder with his. Focusing his honey eyes on your clit, Gabriel focused his grace on the tender tissue. Your eyes were open wide as you raised your hips to meet his thrusts.

“That's a good girl. I love you Y/n. I love everything about you. You are the only human that I have never been able to get enough of. Mhm, I love the way you take my cock. Come for me sugar.”

Gabriel growled as his cock made contact with your cervix. Between repeated hits to your cervix and his grace on your clit You were spiraling out of control. The moment your orgasm started to wash over you, Gabriel immediately gave your voice back. You were shrieking his name as Gabriel closed his eyes coming hard inside of you.

Neither moved for a moment. Gabriel sighed happily.

“I'm going to be coming back home more often.”

You looked up at him with timid eyes.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Gabriel's eyes darkened taking on that sinister expression as he smiled coldly.

“That's up to you and your pussy to decide. Time for you to be doing your duties to me. My suggestion to you, princess, is to remember what I can give to you. What I can do to you and most importantly no one will ever be able to make you come like I can. Also, it wouldn't hurt remember the hell I can bring you. Got that cupcake?”

“Yes sir...”

_________

@brokencasbutt67-writer

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#supernatural #Gabriel #dark!Gabriel #Supernatural Fan Fiction #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #dark!gabriel x reader #dark!Gabe #gabriel x reader #supernatural reader insert #Lessons #Lessons rewrite #Supernatural oneshots #Lessons Story

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sugarcanestock · 5 years

Text

classroom 5

I can’t stand Takoda, every time he speaks, no matter how kind the words may be, all I can think is how much better off we would be without him. It wasn’t always this way though, I suppose at first I rather liked him, but that was then and this is now, and now he’s infuriating. He could simply breath, and I'm ready to slit his throat. Oak grove isn’t a normal school, it’s a special school for equally special people. Everyone there is either retarded, autistic, suicidal, or some criminal. I’m no exception, I am so dead inside you can smell the rotting rom a mile away. The staff here are usually just as special as the students, although a very few of them are normal, never the good kind of normal. The staff at the oak grove have the patience of absolute saints, at least the good ones. I’ve seen some staff watch a kid running around breaking things and causing a ruckus, but his staff didn’t so much as flinch. She just asked him if he wanted a break, he said yes and that was that. Its not uncommon to hear screaming and someone banging on the walls, usually we just lock the door and continue the lesson. The teachers must be some other kind of being, despite the horrible way some of the students treat them, they continue with a smile.I have asked them why they stay, being so under payed, and mistreated, they usually say how they want to help us and describe the joy it brings them when we get better. But some of these staff are so far up your ass you can’t even share something with your friends without it being confiscated. Mrs. Janine everyone hates her, until she brings some snack into class, even then the love doesn’t last long. She is the one I call ‘rule hitler’ you can take what you will with that. Mrs. Star isn’t so bad, but she is certainly too religious, same with Janine, I feel like I’m suffocating in all that stupid Christian mumbo jumbo. Mrs. Star was in the music industry and she just must talk about it constantly and tell you how she ‘sang for this person’ and ‘wrote for this person’ and’ blah blah blah’. She’s got an ok singing voice, but she’s very energetic, too much for me. she is trying to write a tv show script, but her writing works better for an 80’s game show. If she could just stop sucking jesus’s dick for one second, maybe I could stand her better. Mrs. Janine likes to butt her way into our conversations about how we hate god, trying to fill us with the lies she eats every Sunday.

Not a Satan worshiper, don’t even believe in Satan, certainly don’t worship him. But I have nothing against him, he seems like a chill dude, way better than that god prick.Since god created everything right? And he makes no mistakes? Then he created Satan and wanted him to be evil. Also if satan punishes us for being bad, doesn’t that make him good? My class is small, smaller than my old school. My old school had over 30,000 students. This one, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t even have 100. Everyone knows each other, and there is no way of getting out of all the drama. That’s one of the many things I hate about this school, I don’t give a hairless rats ass about who insulted who. In my class there is Marissa, the school thot. But she’s cool I don’t mind her. She recently had a girlfriend, I thought they were rather cute together. Though I think it was Marissa's longest relationship, all good things must come to an end, and just before their two-month anniversary it did. I'm glad though, I am friends with her ex, and I didn’t want her to be cheated on, Marissa certainly isn't above that. Then there is Maria, she’s not my favorite, I think she is a little too conceded for my taste. But she cute, but way too focused on how she looks, and her nails. I think if she spent just a little less time on her looks, and worked on her education, she really could do great things. There is also sorelle I’ve known her for awhile. She once said she wanted to be referred to as a guy and called Grayson, but I’m not sure if she still wants to since she doesn’t respond to it, and no one calls her that. Her and Maria are friends with Marissa, but they are jealous of each other, they always spread rumors about each other. Marissa is rather daft, and usually doesn’t know who to side with, so she picks both, each one on a different day. Then we’ve got the fat ass of the class, not that I think being fat is an issue, it’s just being that fat isn’t healthy. He’s extremely annoying, and he gets pissed off with the simples little jokes. He also loves to infuriate me, and he’s far too big to fight. His name is Andrew, he’s a sports fan, I hate sports they're so boring and pointless, unless you play them, but only freaks watch sports. There’s the two love birds of our class, scratch that the two love birds of the whole school. Sean and Catherine. I greatly prefer Catherine’s company, since she isn’t as intense. She is rather timid and usually keeps to herself, but Sean helps her come out of her shell. She listens to bands like pierce the veil, and stuff like that. I too am emo, well I guess I’m more goth, but I prefer Rusty cage, and my chemical romance. They both are giant weebs, and are constantly playing Pokémon on their ds’s, I mean they are dorm so there’s not much else to do. Dorm of course means, they live here at the school, but its less like a collage and more like a residential everything is restricted, you cant even have paper. Alex who I like the best, he’s very quiet and his stomach is a black hole. I swear I’ve never seen him turn down food, he has a part in the school Christmas play, as a hungry elf, just constantly eating. He is polite and has never caused me any issues, so I try to treat him the same. Allie who is new to the dorms. A sweet soul with a bit of a mischievous glint. Marissa and sorelle don’t like her cause she takes things without asking, she thinks she’s being cute but she really is just being rude. I don’t particularly mind her though, I think she just needs some lessons in manners, and someone needs to teach her to stop making up stories. She tried to tell me she was some animal whisperer, I acted as if I believed her but I saw right through her bs, she does that a lot, make up stories about herself to look cool, I think it’s a bit childish. I suppose now I Must once again talk about Takoda, oh how just his very name makes my blood boil, so stupid, the retarted Dakoda. I once said one of his middle names (yes he has more than one) was dumb and he started crying, then gave me an essay about what all his names meant, of course I told him I didn’t care and he loudly exclaimed.

“Fuck you!” with tears running down his face, and a shaking voice. It makes me laugh to this day, what a little bitch.

At first he seemed charming and funny, but that was before I knew what a good joke was. And the creep was caught masturbating in the girls bathroom, that’s why he’s here. What a freak. He tries to tell people he was caught fucking a trans person, as if any trans person would like a total joke like him. he has no fashion sense, he wears cargo shorts and t-shirts everyday. And if you think there's nothing wrong with that, and or you do that, there is something wrong with you. He laughs at and tells the dumbest jokes, he genuinely still finds cat memes hilarious, you know the ones.

“can I haz cheeseburger.” he even keeps a book of them, he tried to say he babysat, but I saw him looking through it and laughing, what a loser.

. He also makes racist jokes, then we call him out for it, and he can’t take it he’ll get all pissy. One time we made him cry, just for calling him out for being a racist, what a loser. He said that a black guy on the tv looked like the only black student we have in our class, they looked nothing alike other that the fact that they were both black. And he has the audacity, to say that I of all people can’t take a joke, when I give him shit. Anyway, what a prick, right?

But then who am I? just some judgmental bitch, right? Well that may be true there surprisingly more to me than that. I’m mute so that should already tell you how weird I must be. But it gets better, I’m punk/goth it depends on the day. And I’m hella suicidal, and depressed. I am schizophrenic and always paranoid, but it affects me less now that I want to die. There’s nothing else really interesting with me other than the fact that I have large breasts, so I’m a big titty goth bitch.

The day starts off completely normal, if you asked me, I would say it’s too normal. I swear I haven't even heard a single person screaming. Mr. Higgans our bubbly, sweet teacher. What a saint, he began our math lesson.

“alright, so you each have your notebooks, right?” no one in the class verbally responded, but a few of us nodded, including me. I flip to a random page and start writing out the equasions on a blank page.

“alright, Evlyn do you know what page you’re doing?” I nodded and promptly began working, it was simple enough, just regular find the slope of a line. Something seemed off, the hall was quiet, I have been at this school for long enough to know that prolonged silence is not good. I swiftly get out of my seat, Mrs.. Janine as nosey as ever, is out of hers just as fast. When I reach for the door handle she quickly interjects.

“where are you going?” I tell her to piss off, by flailing my hand in a dismissive motion. She needs to learn to mind her own damn business. Grabbing the door handle, I get a horrible sense of dread, but I push past it anyway.

Pushing the door open, all I see is a yellow gloved hand and a dirty, green rag. Without a second to process, I am being held against a tall, strong body, I can hear screaming, and I watch as other masked figures flood in. the second I realize what is happening, I am struggling, kicking, punching, and fighting to hold my breath. But it’s only a matter of time before I must breath in.

#writing #creepypasta #new

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spirit-of-the-void · 6 years

Text

Connor rk800 x Reader (Halloween Party!)

AN: *me reading the notes* glad to see people are just as thirsty for the android as I am, guess I have to make a part two lmao

Summary: An annual Halloween party is being held at the reader’s house for those in the office not stuck working for the best day of the year. Connor, of course, is expected to go and dress up. Just some random Connor x Reader fluff for you all, possible smut next part!

Part 2

“Get a move on, Connor!” Hank called impatiently as he walked toward the ridiculously decorated store front, “Jeez, usually you’re so eager to follow me everywhere!”

Connor sighed, removing himself from the vehicle with an uneasy look at the store. It was a seasonal thing, one that only appeared at the beginning of September and was gone by November first. Skeletons climbed the Halloween related name and various displays were seen in the store front. He knew for a fact that you would have loved to come there and browse--it was a shame you were busy with errands related to the party.

Connor himself saw this task with a grim determination. He desperately wished to not disappoint you. He wanted to meet your standards with this, despite Hank claiming vehemently that there were no standards. This was Connor’s first celebrated Halloween, and he was torn between taking it as seriously as his instinct demanded, or just...having fun with it. He knew you wanted the latter, so he would try to make an effort.

Connor adjusted his tie, a nervous habit, and followed Hank into the Halloween store. They were immediately assaulted with eerie laughing and cackling, lighting flashing from a corner with moving displays. Connor could smell plastic and latex, various chemicals made for flog machines and the facial makeup required for the holiday. He took a moment to scan, noting various “spooky” signs, costumes, and other Halloween-esque trinkets. And candy. Good lord, how much candy did the expect human children to consume in one night?

Hank saw the hesitant look on his face, patting him hard on the back, “How about you try on a few costumes and see which one you want to go with your vampire shit?” When Connor nodded, Hank let out a sigh, “Try not to be so uptight, kid. Have a little fun with it!”

“I will...certainly try,” Connor replied with a tilt of his head, watching as Hank shuffled over to the fake fangs and face makeup, grumbling all the way. Connor himself felt no ill will toward the holiday, but...his nervousness about how he would present himself to you was making it quite challenging. Not that he blamed you, it wasn’t your fault he was so, as Hank put it once, smitten with you. He just...felt things for you, and he wanted to be as mysterious and sexy as you claimed vampires were.

So he thumbed through the clothing racks, looking at costume after costume. He found himself smirking at some, and the more he looked the more he relaxed. He found enjoyment seeing all the ridiculous things people were willing to wear for the thirty first. Fun could be found in this, he decided, in the playing pretend. Werewolves, wizards, naughty nurses...just about naughty everything. If there was an occupation, there was a “naughty” version of it for woman. How very sexist. Although, he did find a very not safe for work male cop outfit, which consisted of only an officers cap, cuffs, and booty shorts. That had him chuckling a bit.

He paused, pulling the outfit off the rack and snapping a quick picture, mentally sending it to your phone with the words, “On a scale of one to ten, how pissed would Gavin be if i sent him this with a note saying ‘ here is your Halloween costume?’”

He had no sooner put the ridiculous article of clothing back when you sent your reply.

‘Connor, sweetie, as funny as that is, i value your life way too much to let you do that lol’

He smiled, enjoying your use of the word “Sweetie” far too much for his own good. Before his inner mechanisms could start overheating he picked out a few things from the rack, heading to the dressing room to try them on. Just as he closed the door to the small room he saw Hank walk up and sit on a nearby stool to wait for him to come out. Connor would happily admit that a few of these costume choices were outright silly, but damn it they wanted him to have fun so he would.

First costume he came out in was the most ridiculous one, and he thoroughly enjoyed Hank’s look of shock and sharp wheeze of a laugh.

“Oh my god, kid,” He sounded like he was choking on his own breath--he coughed quite a few times before continuing, “I would never in a million years let you into polite society looking that stupid.”

Connor smiled crookedly, seeing the bright red fabric of the crab costume in the mirror and shrugging once, “Are you certain, Hank? A vampire crab is quite unique.”

Hank groaned in pure agony, resting his head on his hands, “Connor...”

“You’re sounding a bit crabby, lieutenant, are you sure you’re alright?”

Hank groaned so loudly Connor was sure the whole store heard it.

~ ~ ~

“Oh no, boy-toy must be messaging you.”

You were sitting cross-legged on a stool in your kitchen with Chris and Kelsey, two other officers from the station. You had paused for a moment in decorating cupcakes to read a text, feeling your face light up at the sight of Connor’s name with a little dog emoji next to it pop up. Every time he messaged you it made your heart pound like a caged bird searching for release. It was silly, you knew that, but your attachment and feelings for Connor had grown so genuine it was almost embarrassing.

You stuck your tongue out at Chris, “His name is Connor, Chris, and he isn’t a toy.”

Chris was grinning, slowly trying to decorate a cupcake to make it look like a mummy, “Yeah but when I use the ‘crush’ word or the ‘lover’ word you turn bright red.”

Sure enough, both those terms caused your cheeks to flush, making the two laugh. You just couldn’t help it, thinking of Connor in a romantic way...your body betrayed you every time.Even in front of Connor sometimes you had to play off flushed cheeks and a racing heartbeat in one way or another.

“Shut your faces,” You hiss, waving a tube of frosting threateningly, “I’m armed and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Kelsey giggled, wiping a bit of frosting onto your face, “Oh come on, there’s no reason to be embarrassed. It’s adorable, we’ve all had crushes.”

You duck down a little, staring down at the cupcakes before you as you mutter, “It’s more than a crush you heathens.” And you weren’t lying--you had never felt this way about anyone ever. It was so overwhelming it was almost hard to tolerate in every day life. A crush could be ignored, a crush could be handled. What you couldn’t handle was the urge to kiss Connor’s mouth every time you saw him.

You saw both of them soften their expressions considerably, Chris giving you a comforting pat on the head as he replied, “Be that as it may, we’re still allowed to tease you. You two have been flirting for months now and we all reached a point where we couldn’t take it anymore,” He rolled his eyes, “I don’t know who’s more oblivious, you or him.”

“I’d say him,” Kelsey said with a smirk, setting about making another batch of frosting, “His poor little android brain can’t handle how gorgeous you are, (Y/N).”

You bit your lip a little, a nervous habit. Part of you was really hoping they were right. You wanted Connor to share your feelings so badly you couldn’t stand it. Most times when you felt romantic affection towards someone who you were unsure felt the same way, you squashed those feelings before they grew. But with Connor...they grew. They grew and grew until you had no control over it.

And it wasn’t just how handsome he was. Seeing him take care of stray dogs, listening to him talk about the mechanisms of androids and the concept of androids feeling emotion...you loved all of it. You looked forward to seeing him every day. His crooked smirk sucker-punched you in the gut each time he showed you it, and those puppy-dog eyes...

You sank down in your chair, looking at the text and opening the picture attached before your friends noticed you getting flustered again. What you saw made you cackle aloud anyway, making the two look at you in confusion.

In the picture was Connor in a crab costume, smirking with Hank sitting with his head in his hands in the background. The message included? “Hank seems a bit crabby today.”

Oh no, you bit your lip and smiled what you knew was a dopey grin--he was charming your socks off, you couldn’t help it. He looked bright eyed and adorable in the plush costume, and you were glad to see he was having a good time. Connor was such an unbelievable dork, and that very fact made your heart start pounding again. You loved that about him.

“Oh no,” Chris groaned, “We lost her again. What did robocop send you this time?”

You giggled hysterically, holding up the photo for the two to see. Kelsey looked like she was about to die.

“Oh my god, can i have that framed and put up in the office?” She wheezed, holding her sides, “Just for Hank in the background. That poor man, it’s killing me.”

You laughed, holding your phone out of reach of the two, “No way, this treasure is mine!”

While they complained in various ways, you typed out a swift reply, cheeks warm as you did so.

“Oh my god, Connor have I ever told you what an absolute dork you are? Gotta say I approve <3″

The heart emoji felt strangely risky to you, which was silly and childish to think about. Letting out a light sigh, you pocketed your phone before you could get distracted again, taking a quick look out into your living room. You’d happily admit you’d gone all out. Creepy lights, cobwebs, skeletons...this holiday was practically the only one you enjoyed due to having no family.

When you were with the people at the station that cared about you...it felt like family.

Chris saw the dreamy look on your face and sighed again, “Oh good god, she’s spacing again. We seriously need to get you laid, (Y/N).”

If you had been drinking something, you would have spit it out.

Kelsey giggled at your flustered look, an evil twinkle in her eyes, “Isn’t that where this night was going? What better way to have Halloween? Confess your love, get that good android di--”

“Gah!” You covered your ears, face flushed so warm you were sure you were on fire, “Stop! There’s no way Connor would ever want to do that...!”

Chris let out a low rumble of laughter, sounding almost sinister, “When he gets a load of those thigh highs you have planned and that butt snuggled in those shorts--”

Kelsey interjected, “Ew, when you talk like that you sound as thirsty as Gavin...!”

“Sorry sorry,” Chris laughed, “I just know she’s going to be a snack.”

You placed your head in your hands, feeling how warm your cheeks were from blushing. You weren’t deep enough in denial to say you hadn’t thought about it, hell half the reason you chose to dress that way was...well...to see how he reacted. It was easy to flirt and appear confident on your exterior, but this in reality made you jittery and nervous. You wanted things to work out with Connor, you wanted validation in a way.

Could Connor feel those attractions toward you? God, you hoped so.

“Look at that thirsty expression,” Kelsey tsked, “Girl you’ve got it bad.”

“I’m...not thirsty...” You muttered, not sounding convincing in the slightest.

Chris chuckled, finishing up the last cupcake with a satisfied look, “Do we even know if Connor has a dick?”

“Oh my god--” You started to groan.

“He has a tongue and ten fingers that aren’t broken,” Kelsey interjected with a shrug.

“Oh my god...!” You squeaked, “Kelsey!”

“What? Dicks aren't everything.”

The two dissolved into cackles, and you resisted hitting your head on the counter to clear your thoughts. This is why it was so hard to stay composed around Connor, these two were bad for your thought process in every way. Lusting for the oblivious boy was so not where you wanted to head with your feelings, but it didn’t take very long. He was just....so much. of everything. Not to mention you in general had been comfortable in your sexuality. But with Connor, the added feelings of romance were somehow more flustering.

As if on cue, your phone went off again, and you quickly pulled it out. Sure enough, his familiar name was in your notifications. You wasted no time opening his message, a bit disappointed to see no picture this time, but his words made your heart pound.

“You’ll be happy to know, I had quite a bit of fun today. Hank and I also managed to settle on an outfit for me. I will keep it a secret for now...But I can’t wait to see what you think. See you tomorrow evening, (Y/N).”

You held the phone to your chest, biting your lip with anticipation. How the hell were you going to wait a whole day to see what he had picked out for his vampire theme? God, maybe you were as thirsty as they said?

Either way, maybe that whole day was enough to gain some semblance of composure.

AK: I hope yall caught the funny ass crab suit reference i made ;) I have big plans for the next part

Tagged: @bethanystan

#Connor rk800 #connor #dbh connor #detroit become human #dbh #connor rk800 x reader #connor x reader #Halloween Party #halloween party part 2 #spirit writes #spirit writes fanfic

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themadlostgirl · 6 years

Text

Not Dead Yet (Part 55)

*sniffle sniffle. Once Upon A Time is over 😢

But this story sure ain’t!*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

“It cannot be healthy to chew on a fistful of mint leaves, pet,”

“Don’t care,” I swatted his hand away from me, “You taste gross.”

“That’s harsh,” He instead placed his hand on my back rubbing it tenderly.

“It’s accurate.” I spit out the wad of mint leaves. My breath may smell amazing but there was still the aftertaste of Peter’s dick on my tongue, “I mean how do you like going down on me? It seems so unsanitary.”

“Because I like the way you taste.” he murmured in my ear.

“Okay…” I scoffed, “I don’t know whether that’s sweet, arousing or disgusting.”

“What’s disgusting about it?”

“Really, Peter?”

“Hey,” He drew me back so I was reclined against his chest, “if you don’t want to do it anymore you don’t have to. I don’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with, you know that.”

“And give up my sure fire way of getting anything I want? I can choke down anything if it gets me hot springs and free rein to do whatever I please.”

“You really think blowing me entitles you to get away with anything?”

“Doesn’t it?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“So...yeah. It’s fine.” I shrugged.

“No, it’s not fine.” He looked at me earnestly, “How about this? If you want something then just ask me. As long as it is reasonable I have no reason to deny you. Also, as my second in command you already have free rein. Unless you do something incredibly stupid no one is going to punish you.”

“Is that a serious offer?”

“Not an offer, a statement. You’re my lover and my best friend and you have a killer right hook.” he gave me a squeeze that made me laugh, “When you want something done you’re not afraid to use whatever means necessary to get it. You’re powerful and smart and fearsome. No one that knows you would dare to challenge you. So while we could go on this way I would never ask or expect my Lost Girl to just submit to anyone, especially me.”

“Peter, I--” I bit my tongue before I could say something insane, “I um, I’m glad that you’re so understanding about this. I wouldn’t think you would care so much about something as superfluous as a blow job.”

“You don’t know everything about me. But enough talk about this. How are things going with your new Lost Girl? Any luck making Neverland and the life of a Lost One look like a paradise?”

“Yes, actually,” I was glad for the subject change. I told him about my day training Wendy and our visit with Tigerlily. Peter seemed miffed that I was on agreeable terms with his ex-fairy godmother and that I was dragging his latest recruit over to her side as well but didn’t say anything otherwise. If anything he was more annoyed when I mentioned Tigerlily and I comparing his natural disaster tantrums.

“My former fairy godmother and my lover are swapping stories about me. This feels like a bad joke.” He yawned.

“You’re the one that has to be so dramatic all the time.” I copied his yawn, “That being said it has been a really long day. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Yes please,” he blew out the lantern, “Night pet,”

“Night chief,” I nestled closer into my space in the crook of his body and slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next few days flew by. I was glad to have Wendy around and when the end of the week came I wasn’t looking forward to it. I had done all I could to make her feel welcome and show her a good time on Neverland. Even Devin, Nick, and Ben were warming right up to her much faster than I expected them to.

It was nice having someone around that wasn’t stupid or brash or gross. Someone who liked and wanted to have intelligent conversations about stuff. I’m not saying all the boys are idiots but most of them don’t even know how to read and refuse to learn. Wendy though was just such a breath of fresh air that I didn’t want to let go of. But if she still wanted to leave then I would have to let her. I made a promise.

Wendy and I were enjoying a stroll along the beach the morning of the last day exchanging pleasantries. I knew I should ask what her decision was but part of me was hoping that if I just never mentioned it she would forget and end up staying forever without realizing that time in her own realm was moving on without her. The sad reality of her possibly remembering that she was only supposed to be spending a week here and transforming it into years was too much guilt even for me. Murder, assault, and thievery I didn’t lose any sleep over. Betraying my innocent and ambitious Wendy-Bird would haunt me for as long as she was on the island.

“Well we should probably address that this is the end of the week.” I told Wendy. Her serene smile dropped and she slowed to a halt on the beach.

“I suppose it is,” she sighed.

“So? What is your decision?”

“I love it here.” she admitted, “I have had so much fun and this was such an adventure. You and the boys have been so kind to me and took me in without question.”

“But you can’t stay…”

“It’s not my home. I have brothers of my own and a life worth living outside of running around an island. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I swallowed back my disappointment, “I made a deal and I’m not going to go back on it. I’ll go back to camp to tell Peter you want to leave.”

I turned away so she couldn’t see the misery written all over my face and raced back to camp under the guise of needing a magic bean.

Making my way back to camp I saw Peter chatting with Felix. I approached them and slumped my head against Peter’s arm. He kept on talking to Felix without acknowledging me except for taking one of my limp hands in his. After they were done Felix stalked off.

“So,” Peter gave my hand a squeeze, “I’m going to go out on a limb and say the little bird wants to leave?”

I nodded.

“Don’t look so down, pet.” he tilted my chin up, “We didn’t need her anyways. We still need to find the Believer, remember?”

“I know, just stinks. I liked having her around.”

“Another Lost Girl will find her way to the island and you’ll forget all about Wendy. So in the meantime can you do something about your pet? It’s been terrorizing the camp.”

“Yeah…” I turned around to settle whatever trouble Candace was getting into before Peter spun me back into him.

“Can I get a smile?”

“No.”

“Can I give you a kiss?”

“Sure,”

He left a chaste kiss on my forehead then gave me a push in the direction of where Candace was bothering the boys by swooping at them and pecking their heads. I gave a low whistle and she stopped her assault to sit on my shoulder.

“Y/N! Thank the gods,” Devin groaned, “Your pet has been an absolute terror. Can you get her out of here?”

“She was just playing. Back off.” I pulled some berries out of my pocket for her.

“What’s got you so wound up?” Devin asked, “You look pissed.”

“I am.” I took in a deep breath, “I need to get out of here. There’s too much noise.”

I left the camp with Candace still on my shoulder as I shuffled off into the jungle. Maybe some peace and quiet will help with the disappointment.

~~~

Y/N left in such a hurry. Wendy knew that Y/N had wanted her to stay and part of her wanted to but she couldn’t forget her real family. They were probably worried to death about where she had gone to. Also, while the island had been fun there was an undercurrent of misery surrounding it. Many of the boys smiled and played the whole day through but at night there were tears. Boys that didn’t truly want to be here crying for their home.

She could stay. She could stay and play and have adventure with Y/N and the boys. But at night when all was still and the music ceased she’d be alone with her thoughts and memories. Her parents, Nana, her brothers, Bae...she’d have abandoned them without a single goodbye.

So no. She couldn’t stay.

Making her way towards the camp Wendy worried about how the others would react to her leaving. If Y/N told them would they shun her? What if they locked her up in a cage? Y/N had promised it would be fine no matter what she chose but she still feared the boys to a degree. She saw what they had done to the traitor Isaac. Left to swing in a cage until he might have use.

Entering the camp no one paid her much mind. She needed to find Y/N or possibly Peter himself.

“Looking for someone, squirt?”

Wendy’s heart leapt into her throat. The tall Lost Boy, Felix, was watching her from a log.

“Yes,” she swallowed back her nerves, “I was hoping to find Y/N. I was--”

“We know. You’re leaving.” he sighed like the subject bored him, “You’re lucky she likes you or this choice of yours would never have been an option.”

“I’m aware,” she stared down at her toes. A hopeful thought drifted through her head about the possibility of Y/N coming back to London with her. She smiled at the thought of the devil-may-care Lost Girl wearing dresses and combing her hair regularly. It was a funny idea but it wasn’t her. Y/N’s life was Neverland. She would never leave it and Wendy could never ask her to.

“I suppose we need to send you back home. Wait here,” Felix got up and left leaving Wendy alone once more.

She looked around the camp at all the faces she had come to know. Y/N’s closest friends were gathered in a circle talking seriously. She walked over to them to see what they were saying.

“...just give her the pipes. I don’t know why we’re discussing this.” Nick said.

“Because she’s our sister and we should be able to do more than tell her to play some instrument to make her feel better!” Devin snapped at him. “Have some compassion.”

“This is so stupid…” Ben groaned and slumped to the ground.

“What are we talking about?” Wendy interjected.

All three boys turned to look at her. Unlike before where they regarded her in a friendly way, they backed away like she was a poison...or an outsider. She wasn’t one of them anymore. She knew that.

“Oh Wendy, it was nothing, don’t worry about it.” Devin waved it off, “We did hear from a little birdie that our own Wendy-Bird is flying away. Were we too uncouth for the proper miss?”

“I fear it is more complicated than mere brutish humor and bad hygiene.” She didn’t want to try explaining to them her reasons for wanting to leave.

“Can’t say that we’re not a little disappointed. You were shaping up to be a decent fighter and fellow Lost One. Sure we can’t convince you to stay? We’ll start using soap.” Devin smirked.

“As tempting as that is I just can’t. Nothing personal of course,” Felix came back with Peter in tow. Y/N was still nowhere to be seen.

“No point in prolonging this,” Peter whistled and the dark shadow that had taken her to Neverland flew into the camp hovering above everyone’s heads. Peter turned to address the shadow, “Take her home--”

“Wait!” Wendy looked around the camp, “I can’t leave right this second! I still need to talk to Y/N. Say goodbye at least.”

“Sorry to say but Y/N really isn’t in the mood for teary goodbyes with half-baked Lost Girls.” Peter’s words were much harsher than he had used with her before. She should have expected this. Without Y/N around she really was just a silly little girl. She had no place in Neverland.

“Can you at least give her this?” Wendy took the flower crown she had weaved that morning from her head, “As a memento? Please.”

Peter looked between the ring of flowers and Wendy before nodding and taking it from her. He turned back to his shadow once more, “Take her home and be quick about it. I want one of the brothers by tonight.”

“What?” Wendy gasped when the shadow grabbed her arm, “No! You can’t take one of my brothers! That’s not what was agreed!”

“What was agreed was that if you didn’t want to stay here then we would return you home.” Peter said, “But I still need a recruit. One of your brothers may be the boy I need. It will happen tonight. The shadow will come again and I will get a boy this time. That I promise. Now take her away!”

“NO! You can’t do this!” the shadow lifted her off the ground and started zooming away from the island and into the sky back to London.

~~~

After some time to myself my head was clearer. I was still upset Wendy was leaving but I had come to terms with it. I was rehearsing what I was gonna say to her while making the trek back to camp. It was getting pretty dark, how long had I been gone?

“Hey!” Devin pounced on me when I stepped back into camp, “Where have you been?”

“Out and about,” I shoved him off with a small laugh. Candace didn’t appreciate being jostled and pecked at Devin’s head. “Where’s Wendy? I need to tell her something before we send her home.”

“Oh…” Devin stared down at his toes, “You see, about Wendy…”

“What did you idiots do? Did you lock her up in a cage or something? I swear if you did--!” I brandished my club at him.

“No! Nothing like that!” He held up his hands, “She’s not on the island anymore. Pan sent her back home this morning while you were roaming around elsewhere.”

“What?” I dropped my club back to my side, “She’s gone?”

“Yeah, we didn’t know you wanted to tell her something. I guess we figured you didn’t want anything to do with her after she said she wanted to leave.” he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, “If we had known then I’m sure Pan wouldn’t have had the shadow take her back.”

“It’s fine,” I shrugged, “It wasn’t important. Just a final farewell.”

Devin sighed and pulled me towards the huge bonfire of the camp. The rest of the boys were sitting around it telling stories. Ben had the camp enamored as he retold the tale of him, Nick, Devin and I storming the Black Fairy’s realm to rescue Peter. Nick settled on my other side as we listened sometimes shouting out comments to up the drama of the tale.

At the end the boys cheered and Ben gave an exaggerated bow before taking a seat and another boy stood up to tell his own adventure story. It was hard to beat a daring rescue mission to another realm but it was still nice to hear the adventures of my brothers. After a few more stories the boys picked up their drums and other instruments and started the usual crazed party we all knew and loved.

I wasn’t in the mood for dancing so I watched from the sidelines instead at the jumping and spinning the others did around the fire. I was gonna miss Wendy but she didn’t belong here. It was better this way.

“Evening pet,” Peter came to stand next to me, “I heard that you had meant to talk to the Wendy-bird before I sent her away. Apologies about that.”

“Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have known,” I rested my head on his shoulder, “I only wish my last words hadn’t been a rushed dismissal to her. Too late now.”

“You do know you could always go and see her, right? There is a little thing called magic that lets us travel from one realm to the other.”

“No, I’d really rather not. Especially after Nick told me that you told the shadow to bring back one of her brothers tonight. I don’t think she’d want anything to do with me after that.”

“Sounds accurate,”

I elbowed him in the ribs, “Thanks chief,”

“Would you rather I lie to you?” he elbowed me back. “Before I forget I was supposed to give you this,” He conjured something in his hands and gave it to me.

It looked like one of the flower crowns Wendy made but it was golden. It still bent and felt like regular flowers but it shone with a golden light like someone went over it with paint. “Where did this come from?”

“A final present from your Lost Girl,” Peter took it and placed it on my head, “A little of my own magic to keep it fresh and a gold dusting so it looked like a real crown.”

I touched the delicate petals with a small smile, “So, does this make me queen of Neverland?”

“Sure,” he smirked pulling me along towards the fire and dragging me into a dance. I was finally starting to forget about Wendy when Peter brought our dance to an abrupt halt. He stared up at the sky.

“What? What is it?”

“Someone’s entered Neverland,”

(First) (Previous) (Next)

#slowburn #ouat peter pan #peter pan ouat #neverland #ouat #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

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wolveswithhats · 7 years

Text

For WIP Week

Abandoned idea from a few years ago, a melding of two of my favorite things, Buffy and Portal! Of the idea that the Initiative ships off some of its demons to Aperture. Because....reasons. Spike-centric (or, well, Spike-exclusive ). Very sloppy. Outline-quality, lots of meandering, unfinished, unpolished concepts. Riddled with editing notes. I didn’t even bother with capitalization. Still, there’s some fun stuff in here.

(I don’t care if anyone reblogs, just don’t put it on any of the aggregators, please. This is too rough drafty and embarrassing to be filed away as Content Worth Looking At.)

(captured by initiative again. s4 – s5. initiative shutting down, cementing off. exterminate all demons. riley pulls some strings to have spike shipped off instead of staked. the smallest of favors. i'm still on team riley-isn't-a-total-douchebag. he's aight.)

an hour later, spike and three of his ugliest friends are caged and carted into the back of a semi for a cross country drive across america's finest bypasses. through a hole in the wall watches steel and mortar slowly give off to rolling green-gold fields. teeny tiny farmsteads, clarkston and robin glen and with some disgust, notes the turnoff for a lake angelus, some thirty miles north of detroit.

(his initiative vamp neighbor, 90s grunge clothes, grunge name – trevor – fledge too young to drop game face.)

“christ, i heard about this place. some science lab in a salt mine underground. they say this place does weird experiments.”

met with deadpan, disbelieving stares, and a disgusted tsk from the blond lady-vamp, what's-her-face, something with calendars. april or may or half-past-eleven, day day day, sunday, right, that was it.

“they took my appendix, trevor.” sunday lifts her shirt, revealing a line of stitches, “for their mix-and-match potato head monster. what the hell is a frankenzombie going to do with a shriveled, century old organ? it doesn't even do anything. how is that not weird.”

“no man, I mean really, really weird. cross-dimensional travel, like stargate. bug people. turning your blood into gasoline.”

spike snorts. “I drive a '59 fireflite. gorgeous piece of machinery, but bollocks for mileage. single digits. could due for some petrol on tap.” sad, longing, separation anxiety. his desoto was 2200 miles away baking in the california sun. once he made his way back to the west coast, he'd find those military wankers for a dechipping, kill the whole lot of them, and piss on their corpses for good measure. then he'd book it to south america, away from scalpel-wielding lab jockeys, bouncy-haired slayers and the root of every major humiliation of his unlife over the past three years. bon-fucking-voyage.

ugly demon: “that's why you should switch to a hybrid. my prius gets great fuel economy.” how does a demon that big fit into a mid-size?

(ugly demon = horned, beastly. “your primitive human anatomy lacks the necessary mouthparts to vocalize my true name. what sort of creature only has one tongue? you may call me henrietta.”)

trevor is oblivious. “they were some respected science lab back in the sixties. now? when they're not making you test out their weird experimental products, they make you run through test courses, solve puzzles. and it's all orchestrated by this giant murderous robot. like HAL from space odyssey. once people go in, they're never heard from again. it's true. my cousin knew a guy who was there, he told me all about it.”

“if no one ever gets out, how the hell does your cousin know a guy, you stupid sod.”

trevor's fangs close with an audible click, and he sits sullen for the rest of the commute.

as it turns out, stupid sod and cousin-of-sod actually did know what they were talking about.

housed on the outskirts of a wheatfield, through a gated parking lot, innocuous brick building. on the loading dock, a hispanic man in blue work coveralls wheels a dolly into the back of the mac truck. looks at his living cargo with what spike considers to be an appalling lack of concern, considering the very blatant human trafficking unfolding before him.

“you're not the parts I ordered.” gruff texan drawl. yells to the front, “where are my chamber parts?”

driver swings around front, clutching a clipboard, hands it off. “friday, likely. this is your wednesday shipment.”

“these are people.” texas squints at array of annoyed, tired faces, takes in the gnarled brows, the shackles, and the powder blue scrubs, eyes finally settling on the barbed, hulking form of henrietta. “theoretically. why do I have a shipment of mangled faces, billy idol--”

“hey!”

“--and one-fifth of gwar? are we making a music video?”

the driver shrugs. “i just deliver. sign the thing.”

texas reads off the clipboard: “subject donation from sunnydale university. volunteers?”

“experimental lab rats,” trevor offers.

“prisoners,” spike corrects, growling. “this has got to be in violation of the...what's it? geneva convention. I feel unduly treated. I want an attorney. actual, not one of those 800-number infomercial suits. due my civil rights.”

texas blinks owlishly. “what civil rights? you're not even american.”

“i'm sorry, I didn't realize I needed to shit red, white and blue to not be accosted against my will.”

ignores bitching. “are you even human?” points at henrietta. “i don't think that's human.”

(“what multiverse are you lot from?”

“california.”

“huh. always had my suspicions.”)

he was hoping for an upgrade to trousers, denim, in a dark blue or black. maybe a pale wash if it had a grunge-enough look to it. what they gave him was a pair of coveralls in sunshiny bright incarceration orange, with lines of white piping tracing the seams and a stitching of black lettering across the breast pocket labeling him as HST0017. for fuck's sake.

“i'm not wearing this.”

“as soon as you pass through that emancipation grill, any unapproved paraphernalia is forfeit.”

“meaning what?”

“your current clothes will be emancipated. pffft! you could go naked, wouldn't be the first test streaker, but I gotta warn you, there's the acid pits, the gun turrets, and oh, the lasers. burns like a bitch, and that's not even touching the potential crotch-rotting radiation--”

“just give me the fucking jumpsuit.”

they surgically grafted a band of white metal to the back of his shins, where a long curved spring of steel could be notched, lifting his feet into a painful arch, weight balanced on his toes. he was suddenly that much more impressed with the slayer and her preference for fighting evil in teetering heels, which did wonders for making her teeny weeny hobbit legs look elegant but offered only a promise of scuffed heels and snapping ankles in grave dirt. angelus-grade torture, he decided, hobbling awkward and bird-like from one side of his little glass prison to the other.

he found the entire affair ludicrous, demeaning, and oh, stupid, until he witnessed another test subject slip on a slick of orange goo and nosedive off a platform, pancaking wetly across the tile in a display of hilarious cartoon physics. it was admittedly very, very funny, and funnier still watching jaded custodians squeegee up the red smear that used to be a person, but not something he was looking to experience himself first hand.

“you know, I can see the upside of not doing my best wile e. coyote impression,” he groused, “but you should really have these things in boot form.” shifting uncomfortably as the screws in his knees creaked, puckered and itched.

rick looks at him, surprised. “that's.....that's an idea. we'll take that into consideration.”

(aaaaaaand a jump to the P2 section. slightly better quality, a little less outline-ish. tho very stream-of-consciousness)

waking up with a dry mouth, mouth full of cotton, mouth full of fluffy biker beard, and where had that image come from? like all the moisture had been sucked from the room, stale recycled air like new car smell and musk. where is here? bed, desk, dinged up dresser, ceiling-mounted tv, blacked out and coated in dust. walls decorated with murals of snowy mountains and ski lodges, tacky thrift store oil paintings. the bed he's laying on has a threadbare blue hospital blanket, and a man-shaped crater pressed into the mattress, like a police chalk outline with serious gravity. motel room? UGLY motel room. there's no windows in the room, just slated blinds stretching the length of one wall.

can't move, groggy, wet limp noodle muscles, the dead waking. stares down the length of his body. dressed like a petrol station attendant, orange jumpsuit rolled mid-shin, legs bony and corpse-white. wow, seriously overdue for a date with mr. sunshine.

figure out the who the what and the why after he quenched this sahara on his tongue. room to the left of the bed, loo, good, yes. force himself to move, up and over, muscles clenching in rebellion, stumble over with white white legs buckling like a newborn deer. sink, yes, water churned and choked god why is it taking so long finally sputters out, drinks and drinks tinny tap water until he feels like he's going to burst. sates the fire in his mouth but not the thirst, the hunger, god what is that?

looks up in the dark of the bathroom into the mirror, and sees nothing, just dingy white tile where his face should be. huh. well that's just... different. it's unnatural, he knows, because hello, does still remember how a mirror works, even if he can't remember much of anything else. experiments, lifts the crusty dry slab of soap and watches its reflection bob phantom-like in mid-air. right, so, the mirror isn't broken, just him. but it doesn't feel wrong, like somehow he's just used to staring at empty space in the mirror.

what the hell is he?

sits back on the bed, hands clenching knees.

beyond the doorway, he expects a hallway, maybe, decked out in the same mottled 70s look his room is themed, or a carpark dotted with out of state license plates and neglected marquee signage. but there's no cars, no buildings, no outside. just a massive storehouse, stretching up and out beyond what he can see, dimly lit by flickering yellow halogen. snaking lines of track above his head following the catwalk he's standing on, weaving between towers of grafted metal and grey-green storage units stacked like legos. huge. massive. his own room was in a storage box, labeled next to the door.

test subject packed on 11/17/1999 EXP: indefinite ADT SLM M SHRT

short? was he short? well sure maybe by comparison of the super humongous warehouse he was stored in. not a very helpful selection of information, most of which he had already established. a picture would be helpful. a name. a passport. a blockbuster rewards card. literally any brand of identity.

goes back in, shuffling about, looking for something he's not aware of yet. there's a pad of paper in the desk and a cheap ballpoint pen. picks up the pen, but it feels awkward and childish gripped in his hand. moment of panic that he's illiterate, until he swaps the pen to his left. it feels much more natural.

--mirror challenged. am a ghost? --left-handed. evil ghost? --posh penmanship though --orange is not my color --i could do for a tan

pauses thoughtfully.

--who the fuck am i

sound of screeching metal and cracking drywall, urban destruction at its finest. implied shortness a sudden and unexpected gift as something ghosts over his head, ruffling his hair, clipped english accent as a storage crate cranes above him: “--ten thousand flippin' vegetables--” carves a winding trail of destruction as it tears through crates and cables and catwalks before finally coming to an explosive stop, half buried in the far wall.

his own crate tips, agonizingly slow with groaning whale song of careening metal, before momentum and gravity takes it for its own. crash bang boom, gaudy motel mountain ski lodge avalanches into another stack of crates, creating a domino effect. check-out achieved, in more ways than one. leaves him stranded on a creaking catwalk with no more than an ugly jumpsuit, a pad of paper, and more questions then before. he left the pen on the bed. bugger.

picks a direction and walks. periodically checks crates. like his own, all decked out like vintage motels, oil crusted murals and tacky faux-wood paneling. and on every bed is a person. all coated in a fine layer of dust, gray-skin, perfectly preserved but very, very dead. room after room. men, women, children. old young tall short fat skinny. a varied collection of corpses lined up like sleeping porcelain dolls. flippin' vegetables, indeed.

turns a corner and comes face-to-cornea with a massive metal eyeball. yells in surprise. the eyeball screams, then rears back on the rail suspending it. in its backwards attempt at escape, cracks into a closed door where the rail vanishes, and stirs woozily on its axis.

“what's that then. you alright?” he asks, cringing even as he speaks. it feels more obligate social politeness than actual concern; he honestly could not give one flying fuck about its condition. beyond that, asking a metal eyeball of its well-being seems ridiculous, even in light of this entire weird situation, but it—he—chuckles nervously, looking all at once embarrassed and grateful for the inquiry. an impressive emotive feat, considering he's lacking the other 95% of his face.

“sorry, sorry! you startled me! wasn't expecting a human to come waltzing out of nowhere, considering all of them are dead. corpses usually aren't so ambulatory.” the glowing iris slits to a suspicious blue line. “though in your particular case--”

“you're bristonian,” he says, realization dawning.

“no,” the eyeball chided slowly, with a patronizing squint, “i'm a robot.”

“your accent. you talk like you're from bristol. bristonian.” stubbornly. not getting into an argument with a fucking metal orb. “i heard you speak before, back in that warehouse. you're the one who almost ran me down with a crane. who taught you to drive, mr. magoo?”

“hey now! how about some leeway? bit of a limb deficiency here.” the robot waggles its handlebars in demonstration. “i haven't exactly mastered the art of ten-and-two.” sudden realization: “say, you talk like me! i'd say we came from the same development wing, but that's unlikely, you being organic and all that.”

did he now? that hadn't even occurred to him.

he weighs the language on his tongue, the thoughts in his head, parsing through words, foods, spellings, culture. carparks and car boots, wheatabix, man-u, european craft beers, and a strange smug superiority over chirpy, obnoxious californian twang. and of course, a beautiful array of curse words rolling fluid off his tongue. “bloody hell, sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, bollocks – oh god, you're right, i'm english too.”

he was a londoner, his accent said as much, though with a sort of languid, unpolished quality that came from excessive travel and extended exile from the mother country. he hadn't been home for a long time. expat? study abroad? he didn't feel like a student, well past adolescence, but he didn't feel like much at all, beyond hopelessly confused.

#lmao this is really bad #so so sloppy #it was fun though #not gonna tag it because god no #and yeah that's a cameo by my headcanon rick #LOVE YOU BRO #tuesday night frights #in defiance of progress #wolves writes #or in this case: wolves outlines #long post

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coffeemaenad · 7 years

Text

Toto and Stompy save the world

@ravenwald I have no clue what the fuck just happened, but I had to sit there and write this and now you have to sit there and read this.

Refs:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_85Vvqes3o

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7D-1RG-VRk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEQuDyuQFKE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6uwIj_S_pQ

“Tweet tweet. What are you up to?” Stompy asked his friend.

“Tweet tweet,” Toto said. “Just scrolling through everyone’s New Years wishes on Twitter. There’s a dog who hopes for a new skateboard, and look, a slug who wants a new grappling hook. Very strange. “I Like To Move It Move It Bird wants to open an academy to teach baby birds to dance, and Elvis Bird’s friend is hoping for some stick on ears that he can then stick earplugs into. What do you hope the new year will bring?”

“I don’t know,” Stompy replied, gazing over his warm, secure cage laden with quality newspaper, (zero tabloids), and finally over the snowy feathers of his best friend. “I’ve got everything I need,” he said, his eyes brimming with happiness.

“”I’ve got everything I need,”Toto mimicked Stompy’s words with a burst of impatience. “That’s just the bullshit answer people give when they don’t want to think about it. What’s your real answer?”

“Well that was a bit needlessly aggressive,” Stompy said, clicking his beak. “I suppose I hope that you will take up those anger management classes.”

“I tried to, but they pissed me off too much,” Toto said with an apologetic tone. “I’m sorry for snapping Toto.”

Stompy wrapped a reassuring wing around his friend, who beamed and pulled in closer and they rested against each other for a few wordless seconds. Stompy hummed for a bit, and then perked his head up. “Stomping away sadness is my very favourite thing,” he said.

“You’re good at it too!” Toto trilled encouragingly.

“I hope so,” Stompy said, blushing furiously. Luckily, nobody noticed because he’s a bird. Maybe ornithologists can tell but for the purposes of this, his cheekbone feathers or whatever they’re called covered it up. “It makes me so happy to crush unhappiness mercilessly underfoot, to destroy it to its very core, to leave it a crumpled up pile of debris on the floor, to strike it down and cry “No more, scoundrel!”.”

Toto blinked.

“But,” Stompy continued. “There is a lot of sadness out there. It means that I will never run out of people to help, but it also means that there will always be people who need help. It’s my fondest hope that someday, the world won’t need me anymore. I don’t think that’s coming this year. I don’t think it’s coming for a long, long time if I’m honest. But I do hope that perhaps a very special person, maybe some person out there, seeing an account of these words that have been recorded on some great world-spanning network of information that is accessible to all of the hearts and minds of the humans and the birds and the hippos and the samoyeds, and everyone, will take my message to heart. And they will be inspired to have hope. To have hope that despite all of the awful things in the world, there are still ordinary people who want a better world, and who will do their bit, bit by bit to add a little kindness where before there was none, or smile at someone who is alone, or collapse an evil system, or y'know, anything. And I hope that if a lot of people take it on themselves to perform one little good deed, maybe just one a day, that all of those little good deeds will add up. And one day, far in the future the good deeds will drown out the bad deeds, and the world will become a good and happy place for everyone. And sadness will be a memory. I hope that this is the year everyone decides to do it. A little good deed can save the whole world.”

“And I hope I get a really cool racecar,” Toto said.

“And also that Toto gets a really cool racecar,” Stompy sighed. “I mean, that’s fine. I wouldn’t lead with it, but it’s fine.”

They both basked in the quiet for a while.

“Are you annoyed with me?” Toto said.

Stompy fondly nuzzled his head against Toto’s. “Stop worrying. And lets get some sleep,” he said. So they both settled down, dreaming of what New Years Eve would bring them.

But the next morning, they awoke to a terrible sight. The shiny things were in disarray. The alcoholic birdseed was scattered around the cage. And where was the kale? There was no trace of it anywhere. Toto sank to the floor and screamed. With no kale, there could be no New Years Party. Everyone would scoff and go “Dude, where’s all the kale?” It was the absolute worst thing that could possibly have happened, and it was reality. The kale was all gone.

“The cage door isn’t broken,” Stompy said. And he was right. It had been expertly broken into, and left closed. But then why make such a terrible mess? Was the thief in a hurry? It was also very strange that the thief hadn’t taken any of the jewellery or treasure that Stompy and Toto had collected over the years. Only their kale. It was very strange. “It’s as if someone wanted to create a scene,” Stompy said. “They wanted to create a scene without causing any actual damage.”

“Without causing actual damage?” Toto screamed. “We can’t have a party without kale, everyone will laugh at us! Pumkin loves kale! He’ll leave. And if he leaves, Tuba will definitely leave! And if Tuba leaves, everyone will leave. Our New Year is ruined!”

Stompy scrunched his face up. Toto could be very shrill when he was upset. But Stompy was also an expert at stomping away sadness, and now was his moment. He pushed down his own anxieties about this absolute disaster that had unfolded, and trilled nonchalantly. “The kale is just an item, Toto. Our friends don’t care about possessions or treats or what wonderful things we can give them. They simply want to spend this time of year with us, to go over our memories and our hopes, to enjoy our company, and laugh and smile and while away the hours basking in the glow of companionship. That’s what’s important.”

“No it isn’t!” Toto said with a stamp of his foot. “I’m going to the shop to buy some more!”

“Thank god for keeping retail workers away from their families during the seasonal period,” Stompy said.

Toto nodded in agreement. “Thank god,” he said with a relieved chirp.

Toto hopped merrily along the street. He was thinking about New Year, and about Stompy’s speech, where he had hoped for a better world. Stompy had been making a lot of speeches lately. That was probably because God finds it easier to get their point across if they just inspire someone to outright say the moral instead of weaving it more carefully into the events of fate, Toto reasoned. Toto then started wondering if we are truly masters of our own destiny. Perhaps our entire lives are planned for us by a drunken asshole deity who doesn’t really think things through properly because they hope against hope that their friend will find it sort of funny, a bit. Toto shivered. Such thoughts were too vast and scary for such a lovely New Years Eve. There were bands playing in the square, and early revelers singing very badly. Toto thought about all of the friends he had made this year, and smiled to himself. He loved them all very much, and hoped they knew how much he loved them.

But Toto stopped in his tracks. There was a stray kale leaf on the ground, a black footprint showing that it had been here for some time. Interesting. He studied it intently. The kale leaf seemed familiar. But it couldn’t be. It must be coincidence.

Like a bolt from the blue, he realised that there was yet another kale leaf further down. Toto decided to investigate. There was a trail of leaves leading into the distance. It looked like it would go on forever. But Toto wasn’t afraid. He hopped along, determined to reach the end of the trail and uncover the identity of the wicked kale thief. Not distance, nor snow, nor a ridiculous and illogical string of events would prevent him from achieving his goal. When Toto set his mind to it, nothing could stop him.

Toto was immediately caught in a net.

Back at the cage, the doorbell rang. Stompy began to wonder aloud in what sense his house was a cage if it had a doorbell, before realising with sadness that Toto wasn’t present to hear his musings. He drooped a little and hoped it was Toto at the door. It was just strange when the two were parted.

He opened the cage door. It wasn’t Toto. It was a slug in a neon pink superhero costume.

“Nice costume,” Stompy said.

“Thanks,” the slug replied. “The skintight latex really shows off my butt nicely.”

“Oh yes,” Stompy said. “Yes it certainly does. I hadn’t noticed.”

“Can I come in?” the slug said.

“It’s New Years Eve,” Stompy began to say, but then felt very ashamed of himself. He’d made a commitment to help everyone in need. Who was he to turn this little cosplayer away? “Of course you can, little slug. Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” the slug said, leaving a slime trail on the ground. “The name’s Wilson. I heard through the grapevine that you were the victim of a cruel and horrible kale thief. And I am sworn to bring the perpetrator to justice.”

“Oh,” Stompy said. “I mean, thats okay. My friend’s just gone to get more, it’s no big deal.”

The slug glowered angrily at those words. “I thought the same,” he said. “But you have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

Stompy sighed. “Are you about to tell me an overly long dramatic backsto-”

“It began just three nights ago,” the slug said. “Back then, I was just a normal slug. My name was Will. I enjoyed playing in the rain and making pedestrians trip over. Life was full of simple pleasures. It was dull, easy. But I knew in my heart that there was a greater destiny in store for me. An overwhelming, amazing destiny. I didn’t know how soon it would come and find me.”

“Would you like some tea?” Stompy said.

“Not in the middle of my story,” the slug said. “We were having a party. A little family get-together ahead of New Years. Y'know, because of peoples’ schedules and such. But the party was not to be.”

Stompy’s eyes widened. “I think I can guess what happened.”

The slug slumped sadly. “No kale to be found anywhere. Everyone was really disappointed. I knew I had to leave my old life behind. I had to throw off the shackles of Will, and begin anew. I had to face danger and best evil wherever I see it. I became Wilson. Only then could I stop this terrible thing! For it seems he’s upping his game. We’re not talking about a little get-together. This time there’s going to be no kale in the whole wide world! You have to help me stop him.”

Stompy sighed. “We can have another New Year Party another time. But if I don’t help you, there won’t be a world by the time of next New Year. Well, okay, that’s a little melodramatic. There will be a world, but peoples’ salads won’t pop like they should, and it’ll be a bit disappointing.”

Wilson smiled gratefully. “Thank you,” he said as Stompy suddenly stood upright with great force and raced to the cage door, knocking over bird furniture and straw. “Wow, you’re really keen, aren’t you?” he said.

“No,” Stompy said before correcting himself. “Well yes, but, no. I have to go. I think Toto’s in trouble!

Back to the other plot thread, Toto blinked from behind his net. He chjrped indignantly. “This is, this is just bloody well rude,” he screeched. “And when I find you, I’m going to-”

Shush,” a little voice said. “Please don’t be so loud.”

“Is it you?” Toto said. “Are you the one who put me in the net?” And then he hurled a barrage of expletives and threats far too violent and gruesome to reproduce here.

“Ew,” the voice said shakily. “I’m sorry about the net, okay? It’s just, I haven’t done an evil scheme before and I panicked. I mean, I had it down exactly how this was going to go, and, why did you have to poke your nose in?”

“So why did you have the net? Toto said.

“Look, I, because,” the voice said. “I don’t know. Okay? I admit it. I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“So it is you,” Toto said. “The foul beast who has been hoarding all of the kale. Show yourself, wretch!”

A tiny cockroach in a little purple supervillain costume scuttled out from behind a box. “Hi,” he said weakly, raising a tarsus in greeting before awkwardly putting it down again..

Toto was a bit taken aback. “You don’t seem very scary,” he said. “What’s all this nonsense about breaking into cages and putting me in a net then?”

The cockroach sighed. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said. “This was not meant to go this far. I’m sorry about stealing your kale. I’m sorry for dragging you into all of this. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“I think I understand,” Toto said. This cockroach was a lost and lonely soul, and needed some comfort. And net or no net, Toto had principles. And he took in a deep breath, looked through his net up at the starry night sky and began to sing the score from My Neighbour Totoro. The villain watched with a scowl, but Toto spied the odd break in his expression. He continued his song, gracefully and beautifully dancing vocally through the notes of the song, giving the most soulful and awe-inspiring rendition of the score from My Neighbour Totoro that had ever been. By the end of the song, the villain was sobbing great big tears.

“We used to watch that as children,” the cockroach said wistfully.

Toto nodded. “It’s surprising how many situations the score of My Neighbour Totoro applies to. Now, are you going to stop being silly and tell me what the problem is?”

The cockroach nodded, and took in a deep, cleansing breath. “Let me let you out of that net first,” he said.

But Toto had already thrown it off. “Oh look,” he said. “It wasn’t attached to anything.”

Back in the other storyline, Stompy and Wilson were running. Well, Stompy was running, Wilson was slithering along the ground as fast as he could possibly go. “He was a good roach, once,” Wilson exposited. “He was the kindest, nicest bug in the whole world. He was my friend,” he added with a wistful sigh. “But something happened to him, something changed him. Turned him down this dark road. I don’t want to kill him, Stompy. Or imprison him if I can help it. I want to save him. I want him to understand that doing good things feels better than doing bad things.”

“If he hurts my Toto,” Stompy yelled, and then he didn’t know how to follow it up. Stompy had always believed in seeing the good in everyone. His goal was to help people. The only thing he stomped was sadness. But if this nonsense cost him Toto, cost him the most precious part of his life, he really didn’t know what he was going to do about it. Most likely dark shit. Messed up shit. Nobody hurt Toto. No ‘nobody hurt Toto or else’, just straight up, nobody hurt Toto. Or else.“If he hurts my Toto, you won’t have to worry about this supervillain,” Stompy hissed. “You’ll have to worry about me.”

Wilson twitched an antennae. “You have wings,” he said. “Why are we running?” Stompy stopped, skidded a bit as he steadied himself, and then picked up Wilson and they flew away.

“That was when I was ten-” the supervillain cockroach sniffled. “And then when I was eleven, I got a new bike, and the bullies at bug school stole it, and Wilson was the one who went back and got it for me. And I never thanked him. And when I was twelve-”

“It sounds like you and Wilson are very close,” Toto said. “I’m sure he’ll understand if you just give back all of the kale and apologise. We all make mistakes, and a friendship like that is too important to throw away.”

“You don’t understand,” the roach said sadly. “I can’t do that. He needs me.”

“What do you-” Toto began, but he was interrupted by a loud crashing. Stompy burst in, clutching Wilson in his feet. Wilson had a look of determination on his face. Probably. “Unhand that bird, Billson!” Wilson cried.

“Is your name Billson?” Toto said incredulously.

“Silence!,” the supervillain, whose name definitely was Billson, said to Toto. “Too bad for you, Wilson! My plans are already in motion!”

“Toto,” Stompy cried. “Are you okay? If you’re hurt, I’m going to fucking eat both of these little fuckers right fucking now-”

“Stompy!” Toto squealed. “I knew you’d come.”

“I’m afraid you’re too late, heroes!” Billson scoffed. “Do you seriously think I’d allow you into my hideout if there were the slightest chance of any of the kale being retrieved? I scoffed it all thirty-five minutes ago! And, do you seriously think you can go and buy more? The shops all closed thirty-five minutes ago! And do you seriously think you’re going to have a fun night at the bonfire watching the New Years fireworks? They stopped letting people in thirty-five minutes ago. And do you - Ouch, watch where you’re going!”

Toto had shoved him aside as he raced into Stompy’s wings. Stompy flung himself around his friend, his eyes dewy with relief. They spun around laughing with joy at being reunited.

“I was so terrified,” Stompy cried. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you!”

“I can take care of myself,” Toto laughed. “How did you know where I was? This is such a masterfully hidden hideout.”

Stompy blushed again as he gazed into his friend’s eyes. “I always know when you need me,” he said. Toto smiled and they pressed their foreheads together, as the strains of Auld Lang Syne began to ring out over the night. The clock had struck midnight.

“How touching!” Billson sneered. “But I must be off! There are other schemes I shall unleash upon the world.” And then he just sort of walked out. Wilson tried to catch up with him, but as he was a slug, he couldn’t go very fast.

“No!,” Wilson cried. “We shouldn’t have let him escape!”

“We had to,” Toto said. “Don’t you see, Wilson? You’ve done so much for him over the years. He just wanted to give you the one thing every truly great adventurer needs.”

“And what’s that?” Wilson said.

“An adversary!” Toto said. “Sherlock Holmes has Moriarty. Batman has the Joker. A third example. If an adventurer doesn’t have a nemesis, they just aren’t cool. Billson believes in you so much that he’s prepared to dedicate his life to proving just how much! So let him have his New Year. You can go and kick the shit out of him tomorrow.” Wilson’s antennae flicked back and forth as he realised the truth and smiled.

“Now I’m a real adventurer!” he said. “How wonderful! Happy New Year everyone!”

Stompy and Toto hopped back on the way home, wing in wing, talking at length about the adventure they had had. A band was playing in the town square, and crowds of people had come outside into the night to wish each other happy new year, and share their hopes for the future. They stood and watched the happy scene.

“I meant what I said,” Toto said. “About the racecar. I mean, I would really really like one. But it’s not my fondest hope.”

“Then what is your fondest hope?” Stompy said.

“I hope that things don’t change too much. I mean, with us. I hope we’re still this close next year, and every year. Every year from now until forever. Stompy, I love you.”

Stompy beamed. “You didn’t need to say that. I already knew. But thank you. Come on. Lets dance.”

“I can’t dance!” Toto laughed. “Two left feet.”

“It’s easy, Stompy said. You simply lift this foot… aaaand-”

They were interrupted as “I Like to Move It Move It” started blasting into the night. I Like To Move It Move It bird had arrived to get the party started. Toto and Stompy laughed, excited for the arrival of their old friend. They swayed together, the rest of the world fading away, and danced. They danced until the sky was tinged with pink and a new day began. The New Year had arrived. And Stompy and Toto realised that they had forgotten to go to their own New Years party. But it was okay because Tuba had a key, and everyone else just had the party without them. It was an awesome party. Nobody present even liked kale.

In the years that follow this tale, it hardly seems necessary to describe the numerous adventures of Wilson the Slug and his trials against his arch-nemesis Billson, famous and beloved as those thrilling tales are. Billson continued encouraging Wilson to believe in himself as an adventurer and Wilson was able to help so many more people in turn. Perhaps if, in the New Year and every year, we all try to be a little kinder and wiser to each other, one day Stompy’s dream of a better tomorrow will come true. And he and Toto, safe in the knowledge that they are no longer needed, will retire, get a collection of racecars and go round and round and round in the racecars until they get dizzy and stop and get ice cream.

The end.

#my writing #is fucking excellent #i just #i wrote it and i don't know what it is #also i assume i effed up the formatting so soz again

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dearmyblank · 8 years

Text

tw: heavy swearing, mentions of self harm, misogyny, transphobia, possible mental abuse.

JD,

I didn’t want to waste my time on writing a letter but I have things to say and I’m done talking to you. I’m done. One thing you’ll learn -- or not -- about me is that I keep my word. You can message me again. I’ll kindly remind you that we are not friends and we will never be. You can get pissed again if you want. But I will not have another argument with you. I will not be called names and brought down by a boy that I don’t owe a damn thing to. I am trying to be as civil as I can to you because I know that I broke your heart or whatever but that does not give you an excuse to treat me the way you have and if you continue then I will go as far to block your number and all of your social media accounts. I’m not playing games. I said I wanted no drama and I meant it. I said that I was done and I meant it.

Writing this is just a large step in making sure I get there sooner rather than later.

I don’t think that I’m being immature. Yeah, I’m mad. I’m pissed. That is my right. Yeah, I hold grudges. Just because you can move on from things in the blink of eye doesn’t mean that everyone can and that doesn’t mean they’re wrong and you’re right. People are different. When I get hurt, I get angry and I put my foot down. I say that’s enough, I’ve had it, I’m done. When you get hurt, apparently you insult people behind their back to their own family members. Do you really think I care if I have a boyfriend? You told my little sister, my fourteen year old little sister that you were blatantly harassing until she finally had to block you, that I would not find a boyfriend anytime soon if I didn’t open up. You took back saying that I was sweet and adorable and sophisticated. You turned around and called me cruel, emotionless and cold. You said I was an actor and I bought my feelings, you said that I have no regards for anyone else and that I liked playing with your feelings, you literally told my own mother that I was bullying you because I wasn’t happy in our relationship and I tried to explain that to you. You blew up on me all because I said that I didn’t want to keep having the same argument (that you always started, mind you) again and again and again -- after I’d had it with you three days in a row. You went off on me because I refused to fight with you. You went off on me because I didn’t want to hear how much you missed me and how hurt you were every single day. I felt guilty enough on my own. I explained everything to you a handful of times and you always got angry again over nothing. You think that I should forgive you because I’m being over dramatic by holding grudges -- as if you weren’t being over dramatic by telling me that you regretted ever being with me and that I was a terrible person with no heart, after I straight up told you how people had called me heartless before and it was clear it upset me. You think that I need to grow up, imagine that!

Now listen, I don’t really give a damn what you think about me, not anymore. I know that I deserve someone that is willing to wait for me to come around, someone that is patient and understanding and doesn’t try to change me. I deserve someone that doesn’t pressure me every single time they see me to have a conversation with them when I have nothing to say, when I’m anxious and I want to be left alone for five goddamn minutes. I deserve someone that doesn’t turn things around to a story about a time when they were little and got spooked over a spider when I admit to them that I just had the worst panic attack of my fucking life. I deserve someone that doesn’t make me sit through a two hour video chat when I’m tired, on the verge of tears and just want to sleep because I can’t come up with another excuse. (Apparently being exhausted and afraid I’m going to get set off again is not a good enough excuse. Damn, I should have just said no. I shouldn’t have cared if it offended you.) I deserve someone that I am excited to see, not dreading. I deserve someone that doesn’t tell me they would have asked my sister out before me if she had been old enough. I don’t think I realized how fucking toxic you were until I was free of you, until I finally broke up with you and I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. And no amount of gifts or claims that you loved me change the fact that you made me and still make me feel like shit. So you know what, JD?

Fuck you.

I really wanted to say that when we were arguing but I didn’t. I really wanted to scream it in your face while you were at work. But I can’t. So I will say it here. Fuck you. Fuck you for slipping your hand under my bra multiple times, with my sister in the same fucking room, for trying again and again even after I yanked your arm out, for making me come right out and say that it made me uncomfortable before you stopped. It didn’t take a fucking genius to realize I was uncomfortable and you were crossing boundaries. It didn’t take a fucking genius to realize I didn’t want my sister to overhear me speaking to you and catch on. Fuck you for yelling at me in the middle of a public store. You did not get super loud, thank God, and I don’t think anyone noticed, but thanks to you I could not stop shaking as I tried to ring up my groceries and talk to the woman beside of me that was asking about my hair. Fuck you for saying that you “let me” dye my hair. It was not your fucking decision and it never was. I wasn’t asking you. I was telling you. Fuck you for trying to talk me out of it when you knew that it was something I was really excited for. Fuck you for everyone asking what you thought before they asked what I thought, which isn’t really your fault, but it made me angry. It is my hair and it is my opinion matters. Not yours. Fuck you for not wanting me to get my lip pierced because you didn’t want to taste metal when you kissed me even though it was a big step for me and I told you that I wanted to stop being afraid to do something I wanted to do because of what people might think. Fuck you for having my mom side with you over me. Fuck you for leading her to ask what I’d done when you shouted at me out of nowhere, when I smiled at you because I thought we were on okay terms, because the last I knew you weren’t angry with me.

You’re too hard to read. You know that Katy Perry song? Yeah. You’re hot and you’re cold. That’s the one.

But lately you’re just an asshole.

Maybe you always were a bit of an asshole, but not to me. Or maybe I didn’t want to see it because you were my first boyfriend and my family liked you and my aunt said I was lucky and you bought me chocolate and roses and held my hand. But you also told me that I was prettier than most of your coworkers, you said that they were jealous and you asked how that made me feel. I didn’t believe you anyway. I said neutral. I think you were trying to compliment me but that isn’t the way to do it. I think you liked pitting me against other girls. I think you thought that built up my confidence but it didn’t. You always talked about how I was nicer than the other girls, said that if I hadn’t been home schooled most of my life I would act holier than thou which really pissed me off. I am who I am, I wouldn’t have turned into an awful person just because I went to a public high school. You acted like it was such a good thing when I spent years of my life lonely, anxious and depressed, feeling like a bird in a cage, because I had no one. But thank God I didn’t think I was too good for you, right? Well. Maybe I should have thought that.

But back to the topic at hand.

It might be hard for you to believe since you have trouble opening your mind to anything at all but I actually don’t want other girls to be jealous of me. I want other girls to be happy with themselves. I want other girls to feel beautiful. I want other girls to look at me and say “hey, that girl is brave, she has cool hair” or “oh, that girl is pretty” but I don’t want them to look at me and think “wow, I wish I looked like that girl and not myself” because girls are fucking wonderful and you have no fucking right to decide any girl’s worth. Not a stranger’s. Not your girlfriend’s. Not your sister’s. Not any of them. I should have seen the signs when you said that a girl you worked with cut her hair and you told her that she looked like Justin Bieber. And you laughed about it. Like it was a joke. Like you expected me to find it funny. Like it’s not a scary thing for a girl to alter her appearance so drastically like that. Like she probably wasn’t hurt over it, like she probably could get your voice out of her head, your stupid insult when all you had to do was ignore it altogether or tell her that it looked nice. It was early on in our relationship so I just stared at you thin lipped, I didn’t say anything. I should have said something. I should have called you out for being an asshole.

I shouldn’t have waited so long to say something to you when you used a trans slur. I shouldn’t have waited so long when you looked at an article about gender identity and said “now they’re just making up words”. I should have broke up with you the moment you defended Donald Trump by saying that “he didn’t know the mic was on”, by saying that “every guy talks about women like that”. You told my fourteen year old sister that every guy says things about grabbing women by their pussies. Right. She totally needs to grow up believing that.

I shouldn’t have just said that it didn’t make it right and let you change the subject. I should have said that if every guy talked about women like that then maybe I would get myself a girlfriend instead -- but of course, I was afraid of outing myself to you because you would probably out me to everyone. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you to break up with me. I wanted out a long time before I got out. You made a joke about me not cutting myself once too. I almost told you the truth. I’m so glad I bit my tongue. You got angry I didn’t trust you? I have never made a smarter decision.

I understand that we’re supposed to forgive people and move on. I understand that you have a learning disorder that makes you act in certain ways. But I can’t be with someone I don’t want to be with. I can’t coddle you. I can't continue trying to be friends with a man that acts like a child, that has a temper that frightens me, that makes me fall back into the pit I have worked so hard to stay out of. I can’t associate myself with a man like you, a man that is so fucking closed minded and disgusting. I can’t get along with a man that makes me lay in bed at night trying not to cry, wishing against everything in me that I could grab the scissors off of my desk and slice my legs up and down until my skin was as numb as I felt inside.

You made me feel numb again. You are the first thing since the last time I put the blade down that has made me regret being clean and I hate you for that.

I know I said that I didn’t hate you. That’s a lie, I think.

I think I do hate you. I think I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate your guts. I literally found myself wishing the other night you would enlist yourself in the army so I didn’t have to deal with you anymore, so I didn’t have to be afraid anymore. And I know that sounds awful but you think I'm awful already so I might as well be honest, right? The thing is, JD, I finally feel like I can breathe again but I can’t even fucking enjoy that because I don’t know that you won’t decide revenge tactics are more your style and come after me. I shouldn’t have to be afraid to go out in public. I shouldn’t have to worry that you’re going to show up out of the blue waving a knife around or something. I am beyond thankful that you don’t have your license. I hope that your next ex-girlfriend doesn’t have to feel this kind of fear and I hope that she doesn’t let you trap her in a relationship too. Honestly, I’m actually concerned about her. I said I want you to be happy and that’s the truth, but I wouldn’t wish you on my own worst enemy.

But maybe my own worst enemy is you.

So I’m sorry. And fuck you again, for making me feel sorry.

- AD.

#dearmyblank #a #j #submission

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ourloveisforthelovely · 7 years

Text

Lessons (one shot) Dark!Gabriel

A/N: Smut. Dub con. Dark!Gabriel

Words: 2, 141

Summary: Audrey is tired of Gabriel ignoring her. After sneaking out when being told not to she learns quick that pissing Gabriel can be a good or bad thing.

Pairings: Gabriel x OFC

_________________

“Gabriel please. I need you.”

Nothing

Audrey sighed. It was just another prayer. Another prayer that was wasted. Just a GIANT fucking waste of her time! Audrey sat down on the hotel bed with an exasperated sigh.

It had been months since she had seen Gabriel. After being with someone for two years then absolutely nothing as far as contact was miserable. He didn’t mind to keep her up in a fancy hotel but heaven forbid if he made contact.

Audrey knew with the war in heaven that was taking the majority of his time. That was totally understandable but what she didn’t get was he couldn’t give her any sign that he was okay. She wasn’t asking him to walk away from the conflict or give up just a hey I am okay. I’ll see you soon.

The last time that she had seen Gabriel something was off. He wasn’t 100% there. He seems almost on autopilot and was rougher than he had ever been when it came to making love. In fact he had almost threatened her when she mentioned going back home to her mother.

“You’re mine. You aren’t going anywhere. When I come back you better be right here waiting for me.”

Audrey only nodded not sure what to say to her lover as he turned disappearing without another word.

Now here she sat on that same bed staring at the wall like a caged bird.

“Gabriel if you can hear me you better get down here! You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Again nothing

“That’s it! I’m going out.”

Audrey said coldly. When no archangel appeared in the room she stood. She was tired of being the dutiful lover. If Gabriel didn’t have the time for her then she didn’t have the time to sit here and let her life waste away. So what if he was keeping her young and healthy. If he didn’t come at the threat of her walking out then he would probably have no clue that she went to do something outside of the hotel room.

Sitting down on the first stood Audrey smiled as the bartender walked over.

“Time for some fun.”

Audrey thought. The bartender handed her a small menu.

“What can I get you sweetheart?”

Audrey smiled.

“Jack and coke.”

The bartender nodded before going to prepare her drink.

“I like a girl that can handle whiskey.”

Audrey turned to face a man with dark eyes and neatly styled brown hair. He looked taller than Gabriel but would stand no match when it came to him.

“Yeah? Well I can handle it pretty well.”

Audrey said with an innocent smile. Normally she would be ashamed with her behavior. Tonight however not a fuck was to be given.

“Well I think that is amazing. My names Ryan.”

Audrey eagerly shook his hand.

“Audrey.”

It didn’t take long and very many shots of Jack before Audrey was forgetting all about her pain over Gabriel. In fact she hadn’t thought about his name in a while. Ryan and his funny stories was almost too perfect. He was making her laugh about the smallest things.

“Hey wanna go outside? I need a smoke.”

Ryan asked with a funny grin. Audrey quickly picked up the small handbag that she had brought with her before following Ryan outside. She didn’t notice that Gabriel’s name was lighting up on her cell phone until she reached the door. With a drunken shrug Audrey pushed ignore and walked out.

Ryan quickly lit a cigarette before looking to Audrey.

“I’ve had a good time tonight. You’re really pretty. Do you got a man?”

Audrey shrugged.

“When he wants to be. Haven’t heard from him in a while.”

Ryan nodded.

“Works out of town.”

Audrey laughed coldly.

“You could say that.”

Ryan took a drag on his cigarette before looking a little more intense.

“Why don’t you come home with me? You look like you haven’t been fucked enough.”

Before Audrey could respond blood shot out of Ryan’s mouth and a bloody gash appeared on stomach immediately soaking through his white shirt. Audrey’s eyes widened as the man hit the ground. Her eyes rolled up to see Gabriel standing behind the now dead Ryan looking like he was ready to raise hell.

“Gabe…Gabriel!”

Audrey managed to squeak. Gabriel’s honey eyes looked cold and here was something sinister about them as he looked at her.

“Having fun honey bunch?”

Audrey blinked as Gabriel stepped over Ryan like he was a piece of garbage in the road. Before she could respond Gabriel’s hand was around her throat.

“I asked if you had fun? I suggest you answer me.”

Audrey swallowed as Gabriel increased the pressure on her throat.

“Well I was. What are you doing here?”

Gabriel seemed to ignore her answer as he looked at his girlfriend’s scantily clad appearance.

Audrey pushed him off yanking the shoulder strap of her dress up.

“What the fuck does it matter to you?! You don’t ever show the fuck up anymore! So what if I want to go out and have a little fun. Not like you give a good god damn. Oh look at that I said god! Naughty me!”

The look on Gabriel’s face showed nothing but fury and rage!

‘That’s it! I have had with you! You have went way over the line! I tell you to stay in the hotel room and here you are like a damn street walker.”

Gabriel reached out grabbing Audrey’s hand. The next thing she knew they were standing in the hotel room. After the room stopped spinning she looked back to Gabriel who was still beyond livid. He walked over yanking Audrey to him for a rough kiss. Audrey cried out the moment his teeth latched on to her bottom lip and his hand roughly squeezed her left butt cheek.

“Gabe!”

She moaned his name as his kiss eased up into a gentle and almost romantic kiss. Gabriel quickly pushed her away and onto the the bed. Audrey looked up at him with with eyes as he towered over her.

“Time for a little lesson on how our relationship works. You do what I tell you and you won’t get punished like you are about to now. I am done being sweet to you. You’re mine and that’s it. I’ll kill any worthless person that gets in my way. You were about to put out for another man so I am going to fuck you like the whore that you are.”

He reached down quickly ripping the black dress from her body leaving Audrey naked below him.

“Gabriel, what is wrong with you? This isn’t you.”

Audrey cried out as he yanked his own shirt over his head in a blind rage. Gabriel looked down at her with a cold smirk.

“This war has changed me peach. You get what you fucking get!”

Audrey was scared! Scared and slightly turned on….however, she was afraid to admit the last part. Maybe she could pray to Cas for help. He would show up if she needed something.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Gabriel sneered coldly as he reached down slamming a finger into her wet core.

“Ah you’re wet…just like I expected. You really are a slut.”

He growled as he curled his finger letting his thumb stroke over her clit. Audrey threw her head back into the pillow as Gabriel continued his assault.

“Gabriel please. I love you.”

“Ha….yeah right and I was born yesterday. Let me tell you a thing precious…”

Gabriel took his hand away as he began to undress himself. Audrey couldn’t help wondering why he wasn’t just using his grace to undress like normal.

“You are all mine. Mine to pleasure. Mine to taste and most importantly mine to love.”

Gabriel elongated the word “love” before his grace slammed into her body full force. Audrey cried out as the pressure in her body intensified. It felt just like Gabriel fucking her yet this was different. There was something that made this even more intense. It went on until Audrey was unable to cry his name instead she was praying. Gabriel chuckled.

“That’s right sweetheart pray to me. Look at us. Me using my god given powers to fuck you into next week while you moan like a dirty harlot. We would both be fucking crucified in heaven for this. Its worth it though…seeing you spread open like this just waiting for me to touch you. I could look at it all day.”

Audrey cried out again. This time she was finally able to get some verbal words out.

“Gabriel please. I’m sorry. I was so angry. I was worried about you. It has been too long since I saw you and I needed….”

“Shut up.”

The archangel said coldly before making his grace stop. Audrey gasped, her chest heaving. She was thankful that he had given her a few seconds break. It wasn’t long until his cock was slamming into her.

“You just thought that you was going to get away without this huh? Did you think that I wouldn’t claim what was mine? Well you’re wrong.”

Gabriel’s hand found its way back to Audrey’s throat as he forced her to look in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare shut those eyes. If you do it will be the last thing you ever do. Do you hear me?”

“Yes!”

Audrey squealed as Gabriel’s increased the pace of his thrusts each time his cock feeling bigger than it was the moment before.

“You leave this hotel room again…”

Audrey shook her head.

“I won’t….not without you! I’ve learned my lesson.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t believe you. Sugar snap I have seen hell and I know what liars look like. You are just saying shit to make me happy. Best thing you can do is hush. Ah what the hell. You don’t need that voice. I took John’s voice away in the bible not to mention that over grown Dean Winchester and his brother. What does yours matter for a little bit?”

Gabriel snapped and Audrey no longer had the ability to speak. He grinned looking like a mirthful child at Christmas.

“Much better.”

Gabriel said softly as he went back to pummeling her body harder with his. Focusing his hone eyes on her clit, Gabriel focused his grace on the tender tissue. Audrey’s blue eyes were beyond wide as she raised her hips to meet his thrusts.

“That’s a good girl. I love you Audrey. I love everything about you. You are the only human that I have never been able to get enough of. Mhm I love the way you take my cock. Come for me sugar.”

Gabriel growled as his cock made contact with her cervix. Between repeated hits to her cervix and his grace on her clit Audrey was spiraling out of control. The moment her orgasm started to wash her over Gabriel immediately gave her voice back. Audrey was shrieking his name as Gabriel closed his eyes coming hard inside of her.

Neither moved for a moment. Gabriel sighed happily.

“I’m going to be coming back home more often.”

Audrey looked up at him with timid eyes.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Gabriel’s eyes darkened taking on that sinister expression as he smiled coldly.

“That’s up to you and your pussy to decide. Time for you be doing your duties to me. My suggestion to you princess is remember what I can give to you. What I can do to you and most importantly no one will ever be able to make you come like I can. Also it wouldn’t hurt remember the hell I can bring you. Got that cupcake?”

“Yes sir…”

___________

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