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#hopefully i will write more in the future
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RELAX
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PAIRING : stanford!sam winchester x fem!reader
SUMMARY : reader is stressed from studying for her upcoming final and sam helps her relax
WARNINGS : fluff. smut. oral (fem. receiving). fingering. rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie. strong language.
REQUESTED BY @s4wdvator : "I would love a Sam Winchester fic, I love him, I'm a total Sam girl who also loves Dean hejehjhehe. It would be a Stanford thing!Sam dating Fem!Reader, it could be smutt or fluff!!"
A/N : this was requested by a fellow mutual of mine (sorry it took so long.) hopefully it's similar to what you had in mind, if not, hope you enjoy it anyway! my requests are currently on hold since i have so many ideas of my own that i still need to write, but it'll be open in the future, i promise. this is my first sam oneshot ever, hope you guys enjoy it!
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For the past week, you went to class and then straight home. You had a huge test coming up that counted for half your grade. If you failed, you could kiss your scholarship goodbye. So, for the weekend, you decided to turn your distracting phone off so you could study. And it seemed to work... until it didn't.
The room had been eerily silent as you read. You were so concentrated on the material before you that a loud knock made you jump in freight. After a beat or two, your heart calms. With a groan, you push the chair away from the desk and walk to the door. Sam stands before you, a worried expression on his face.
"Y/N," He huffs. "Are you all right? I've been calling and texting you!"
You sigh, moving out of the doorway to let him in. "'Sorry. I've been studying."
He walks in, and you close the door behind him. "Your head's been buried in that book for a week. You need to take a break."
You sit on your bed, replying, "I can't. If I fail, I won't be able to afford to keep going here. Then how will we be together?"
"Hey," Sam sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Don't talk like that. You're the most intelligent girl I know. You'll pass the test."
You stand up, facing him as you rant. "But what if I don't? What if I have to leave and—"
"You're not going to leave." He interrupts your spiraling, knowing if he didn't stop it now, you wouldn't stop. "You're going to pass. Then you'll be stuck with me."
A giggle slips past your lips. You could always count on your boyfriend to lighten your mood. A smirk takes over his beautiful face, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.
Sam leans in closer and says, "Take a break. Let me help you relax."
You hesitate for a moment, afraid if you give in, you won't be able to study afterward. "I don't know..."
"I'll quiz you after." He entices.
"Mm... alright."
Sam gets up from the mattress and sheds his jacket. Tossing it aside, he tells you to lay on your belly. Without question, you do as he says. You stretch across your bed, head tilted towards the wall, eyes closed, as you slowly inhale. The bed dips as Sam climbs on before sitting on your ass. His large and magical hands grip your tense shoulders. You exhale in euphoria as his fingers dig into your muscles just right.
Tingling sensations rid the worry from your body. Your teeth sink into your lip, trying to suppress moans. Part of you didn't want to admit how much you needed this. His hands travel below your shoulder blades, toward the middle of your back. He works your back exactly how you need it, causing breathy groans to slip past your lips. It continues for a few minutes, and you're in another world.
Your brain becomes unaware of Sam sliding off and kneeling between your thighs. His hands begin to massage your behind, quickly drawing your attention. Part of you knew you should stop him, but the other didn't want to. Instead, you let his hands slither under your loose-fitted shorts and focus on your ass. His thumbs massage closer and closer to your lips, occasionally brushing against them.
It was all you could think about. You need him. You craved Sam's long and slender fingers inside you. The more he teased, the wetter your pussy got. You open your legs wider, giving him access like any other time.
A whimper falls from your mouth as your boyfriend gently rubs over your slick entrance. Wetness lubricates his thumbs, and before you beg him to, he slides them in. You gasped, but just as fast as they were in, they were out. He brings his fore and middle fingers to your entrance before gliding your slick towards your clit.
He rubs your bundle of nerves a few times, only making you wetter. The moans held back were now audible. His fingers slide back to your core, and without missing a beat, he plunges them in. Your body tenses as he dives deep, the tips of his long fingers hitting your cervix. A pained yet pleasurable moan echoes in the small room.
You were so thankful your roommate decided to go out. Sam slowly draws his fingers in and out. Once they're covered in your wetness, they disappear from your core. You open your eyes and look over your shoulder, missing his touch. The sight you saw somehow made you wetter. He had his fingers in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing around his digits, sucking them clean.
He slowly pulls them out, and you watch with admiration. Sam flips you on your back, granting you a better view. He pulls your underwear down, leaving you in the oversized shift you stole from him. He tosses them off the bed and gives you a mischievous smirk. His head dips between your thighs, and your hand quickly grabs his hair.
His mouth closes around your clit, sucking hard enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your walls clench around nothing, making you miss his fingers. As if he read your mind, he fills you with his slender digits. He steadily increases his speed until he reaches the pace that makes your toes curl and your back arch. Your grip on his hair tightens as his teeth graze and lightly bite your clit before soothing it with his tongue.
The pressure in your belly quickly builds, threatening to burst. You force your vision to focus right on your boyfriend. As if he sensed your stare, he gazes up at you, a smirk upon his lips. You throw your head back as he harshly sucks on your sensitive nub. His knuckles pound against your skin, leaving bruises where your pussy ends and your legs begin. It all became too much, and before you knew it, you came on his fingers.
Without missing a beat, Sam removes his fingers and drags his tongue across your soaked entrance, licking between each fold to get every last drop. Once he finishes, he sits up and unbuckles his belt. As relaxed as you feel, you wouldn't mind a good fucking. He unzips and pulls his pants to his knees. You dampen and bite your bottom lip as his member springs free.
There were several reasons why you fell in love with Sam, and his dick was one of them. You'd never objectify him, but if others understood what hid beneath his boxers, they'd try harder to steal him away. The first time you'd seen it, you wondered how he planned to fit his entire cock inside you. It took a few tries before you could finally take him all in, and man, was it worth it. You hated to admit it, but he had you dick-whipped.
"Like what you see?"
"Mhm. Now, shut up and fuck me," You demand before pulling his neck down and connecting your lips with his.
You could taste your sweet juice on his tongue. The thought of you tasting your cum on another man's lips repulsed you, but on Sam's, it only fed your lust. He presses his body against yours, his tip tracing your inner thigh. You moan into his mouth, practically begging for more. Sam breaks the kiss but remains close enough that his breath fans across your lips as he speaks.
"You ready for me?" You nod eagerly. He reaches between your legs, aligning his long member with your entrance. With eyes closed, you anticipate the slight but brief pain that'll come with his penetration. He holds down your hip with his left hand, feeling how tense you are before whispering, "Relax."
That's exactly what you did. Or at least tried to, anyway. You take a few deep breaths, willing your mind and heart rate to slow. Once Sam feels your body loosen, he pushes himself into your tight cunt. You whimper as his dick stretches your walls, both pleasure and pain fighting for dominance. He fits half of his appendage before pulling out. With every thrust, he goes deeper and deeper until his entire cock fits inside your small hole. Soon, the pleasure had won.
You were a moaning mess underneath your boyfriend. His hips moved skillfully, pushing you towards the edge. You clutch his shirt, hanging on for dear life as he rails into you at a hard and fast pace. The tip of his member brushes against your cervix when you wrap your legs around his torso, giving him a deeper angle. The sounds of skin clapping and your bed creaking to the rhythm of each thrust fill the quiet room.
He dips his head, finding comfort in your neck. Sam nibbles at your skin before sucking harshly, leaving a mark. You try arching your back, but his weight won't let you. Tears pool in your eyes as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. His hand snakes between your bodies, and his thumb rubs your sensitive clit. It was enough for your tears to spill over. You feel the familiar rush and warn Sam.
"Ohmygod, baby, I'mgonnacum," You mumble quickly.
"Let it go, sweetheart."
With his permission, you came undone. You scream as the waves wash over your body. Sam helps you ride out your orgasm, somehow going even harder. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth forms an 'O' as he murders your soaked pussy. It was pure luck you liked it hard and fast like he does.
You knew from experience your lips would be swollen after this, and hell if you didn't consider it a trophy. Suddenly, Sam's thrusts stopped, and you knew what that meant. He was cumming. And sure enough, spurts of hot cum shoot into you as he grunts into your ear. You moan as he fills you up, making you feel full in a different but great way.
He kisses his way to your mouth and shoves his tongue down your throat. You run your fingers through his hair as your body warms up for round 2. After your legs drop to the mattress and shake, you decide to wait a little longer before taking that rollercoaster ride again. Sam pulls away, so you open your eyes and see him gazing lovingly at you. A smile pulls at your lips to match his.
"Are you relaxed?"
You couldn't help but chuckle and answer, "I'm so relaxed."
"Good," He gives you a quick peck. "I should help you relax more often."
"Well, I'll be studying until next Thursday."
"Mm..." Sam traces his lips along your face, tickling your skin. "Sounds good to me."
He kisses your shoulder before pulling out of your dripping cunt and getting up from the bed. You prop yourself on one shoulder as you wonder what he was doing. He pulls on his boxers and walks toward your desk. Your eyebrows furrow as he picks up your textbook. And true to his word, he began quizzing you.
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SAM WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST
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FOREVER TAGS : @jaredpadonlyyyy, @nicksalchemy1, @graciehams, @impala67rollingthroughtown, @nancymcl
SAM TAGS : @lucid315
SUPERNATURAL TAGS : @criminalyetminimal, @nikimisery, @celticma, @deadlymistletoe, @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld
@kindollss, @juicyballsworld, @kamisobsessed, @devilslittlehelper
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CALL-ME-MRS-WINCHESTER
: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform
*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, headers, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.
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genericpuff · 2 days
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Hi! So this is coming from a place of genuine concern, LR Persephone isn't going to have DID right? I know you probably can't reveal much but DID is already a very stigmatized disorder so I'm always worried when I see the Signs, I hope you understand lol
I understand fully your concerns, and I hope I can reassure you in my own intentions regarding Kore / Persephone that the goal is not to demonize or stigmatize DID in any way. I actually do regularly interact with a family member who's currently seeking an official diagnosis for it, and have my own firsthand experiences with my own mental health and symptoms of childhood trauma that are intersectional with that of DID. Of course, that doesn't mean that I'm immune to stigmatizing, but rest assured that I am aware of the stigmas surrounding DID and the misconceptions that a lot of people have about it, no thanks to how it's been portrayed in mainstream media.
If I can add some additional and necessary context as to why I chose to write Kore like this, much of how I'm writing her is based on how she was initially presented to us in S1 of LO, particularly through the personification of her wrath:
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I really liked this concept and was subsequently disappointed when it seemed to get left behind (though considering how LO turned out, maybe that was for the better lmao) I've always enjoyed these "inner conflict" character dynamics, but I also understand from years of writing characters like this that much of these types of tropes are often intersectional with common misconceptions and stigmas surrounding personality disorders and mental illness.
Within the context of Rekindled, Kore does not specifically have DID but her experiences are clearly intersectional with it. Ultimately my goal is to empathize, not demonize. As much as "Persephone" may be currently presenting herself as a sort of snarky "alter ego" of Kore, she is not evil, no more "evil" than Kore herself, because they're ultimately of the same mind and body, flaws and all. Persephone is often speaking truths that Kore is simply not willing to admit or able to face, the worst of which we've yet to uncover, but will be necessary to overcome. There will certainly be times when Kore's actions - spurred on by the voice of Persephone in her ear - may be ugly or wrong, but I hope in the end that I'll achieve my goal in expressing that everyone - even immortal gods - can always have another chance to heal, to forgive themselves for their past, and to do right by themselves for the sake of a brighter future. This will apply to other gods in the story as well, many of whom also share Kore's struggles and experiences.
And, assuming I do my part and deliver on my promises, there will be closure for Kore/Persephone, the readers who relate to their struggles and experiences, and many of the other characters who were hung out to dry in the original comic. That's definitely one of my biggest goals with this retelling, at least! (•̀ᴗ•́)و It's definitely one of my riskier moves as the nature of the subject is very sensitive, but I'm giving it my all in the hopes that it pays off in a more nuanced and in-depth character arc for Kore/Persephone than what we got in LO that can hopefully be embraced as a message of acceptance and self-love. And y'all can hold me to that (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
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thatrandomidiot182 · 2 days
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Fret not my friends, for this is only the end of the 'Canon' timeline! I have two alternate endings in the drafts along with the side chapters, so although the main series is over until Season 3 of HOTD comes out, I still have lots of stuff planned for Velaryon! Reader in the future! Hopefully you guys stick around to see.
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VELARYON! READER FINALE (For now...)
Aemond, having been left to his devices in Kings Landing, decided to take it upon himself to help Reader as best he could.
Thus, he reaches out to the Blackwoods with an offer...
Reader, in the meantime, has taken a minor detour from her march. Instructing (Threatening) Jason Lannister to continue his conquest, "With haste." As she pays a visit to 'an old friend.'
Back at the Red Keep, Helaena continues her training, now with more fervor, and can often be spotted astride Dreamfyre amongst the clouds day in and day out.
Alicent, defeated and weary, now grows suspicious of her sons prolonged slumber. The maesters claim that he is in decent enough health, and their confusion only validates her suspicion.
As she is busy frolicking in the Kingswood, one of Readers' most trusted maids rushes her husband before Aemond with very important news.
After the discussion, Aemond hastily writes to Readers host, and the morning he does, Silverwing is chased back to Dragonstone by Vhagar, with Dreamfyre hesitantly trailing behind as they meet Rhaenyras newfound 'allies' in confidence, before turning back to Kings Landing.
On Dragonstone, Hugh speaks with Ulf after their conversation with Prince Jacaerys.
Rhaenyra mulls over the decision to strike against Aemond, but Corlys is hesitant due to Dreamfyres' appearance the day before.
Back at the Red Keep,
Aemond utilizes Readers' incoming fleet and writes to them, instructing them to catch as much fish as they possibly could before docking, as the new restrictions on the harbor are bound to cause issues with the smallfolk.
Helaena and Alicent discuss their emergency escape, with Helaena withholding her true plans at Reader's behest.
Aemond reaches out, inquiring Helaenas aid, but the Queen is hesitant, and Alicents objections don't help.
In the end, Helaena agrees to fight under the condition that she is the last line of defense and that Jaehaera and Alicent would flee while she flies. She writes to Reader that same night, inquiring how this would affect their existing escape plan.
Meanwhile, Alicent has her own plans...
Jacaerys, on the other hand, is going through an existential crisis. The whole 'army of bastards' situation has made him rethink the entire conflict with Reader about Aemond.
His whole life, he's lived under scrutiny, scorn and mockery. Him, Luke and Joffery were constantly being questioned and made fun of, by the entire Red Keep, however Jace could never understand why his uncles hated them so much.
Helaena was perfectly pleasant, his grandparents were all kind and accepted them as heirs, so why couldn't Alicent and her sons do the same? Did the color of his hair really make that much of a difference? Regardless of who his father was, he was still of royal lineage, born from a womb of pure fire and blood itself. There was no reason for them to be so cruel!
He's lived with the pain and anger of not being accepted his entire life, and he truly believed that his dragon was all that was needed to prove anyone wrong.
After all, only a true Targaryen could tame a God... right?
Now he's rethinking everything.
He finally understands his uncles.
He now knows how Aemond felt about him and Luke, how Aegon felt being compared to himself all the time.
It was infuriating.
Despicable.
Shameful.
It was everything they all said he was.
Now, Jace finds it hard to keep his faith in his mother. Not only is she tarnishing the family name but also placing them all in danger.
He finds himself full of regret, wanting nothing more than to be able to apologize to Aemond and Reader and rekindle a bond he didn't even know was there.
He also now has to find a way to snuff out the newfound self-hatred brewing inside his heart... (imposter syndrome..)
Back in Kings Landing, Aemond and Helaena bond, as Aemond works to persuade her into taking a more offensive role in the war. Helaena obviously disagrees but is more inclined to entertain the thought than she would normally be. After all, she still has a husband and child she wants to keep safe.
Besides, she has been training quite a bit, not to mention Dreamfyre is one of the top five most capable dragons alive... and it's not like Aemond is asking her to fly out and face Daemon or Rhaenyra head on, no. Only that she aid Vhagar should Rhaenyra attempt to sack Kings Landing.
Alicent attempts to bargain with Rhaenyra, urging her to strike while Reader and her dragon are away.
She encourages Rhaenyra to take Aemond and Vhagar down whilst she and Helaena prepare the keep for her before their departure.
Rhaenyra insists that Aegon be dealt with regardless, and ultimately, Alicent agrees.
Pieces are finally falling into place...
Reader meets with her mother for the first time after the coronation, accompanied by Rhaenyras three sons, obtained from the ships her fleet seized, in order to strike a deal.
Tyland and his newly acquired ships meet with Readers fleet as they begin to head towards the blockade after delivering the fish to Kings Landing.
Alicent heads back to the Red Keep to find Helaena, as the dreamer herself is in the midst of training with Aemond and Vhagar.
Jason Lannister receives word of a newly acquired ally in the Riverlands as he makes camp at the Frey Bridge.
Rhaenyra finally prepares to strike.
Daeron and the Hightower army meet with Cole and Gwayne and begin marching on the Riverlands.
The Red Keep is in a panic, after shouts begin to echo throughout the halls come the hour of the wolf...
"THE KING IS GONE!!"
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I'm so sorry that this is so much shorter compared to the rest, I tried to cover 3 episodes in each part but there was only 2 left for this one. As a small apology for the lacking word count, I wrote out the letter Aemond wrote to reader and attached it here for your enjoyment!!
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My heart,
I hope you are well. Unfortunately, I do not write with leisure.
Rhaenyra seeks to raise an army of bastards.
She has sent her handmaiden to fetch any silver-haired persons occupying the streets of Kings Landing.
However, as usual, your kindness reaps rewards. It appears one of your new maids' husband is a Targaryen bastard himself.
Fear not, for this 'Hugh Hammer' and I have come to a very generous agreement. He has bent the knee, and sails to Dragonstone as I write, leaving behind his wife and daughter in our care.
I understand this rather rash decision has a small chance of becoming troublesome in the future, however I believe his success would prove beneficial for us in the long run, and should he perish in his attempt, nothing more will be lost to us.
It appears that you yourself have aided many of these bastards as well, and I pray that the gods grant us their favor once more by placing one of them atop a dragon, if it must be any of them at all.
Of course, the best possible outcome is that none of them are claimed, but the fates have funny ways of showing their humor...
Yours always,
Aemond
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alicent-targaryen · 11 months
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archive of our own username
hey guys, i just opened an account on ao3 if you want to take a look!
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relicsongmel · 3 months
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Something I've always found fascinating about Raymond Shields is that despite seemingly having altruistic reasons for being a defense attorney, his reasons for trying to convince Miles to be one are anything but.
It seems understandable enough on the surface. After Ray comes around and agrees to work with Miles in The Imprisoned Turnabout, he sees remnants of Gregory shining through him despite von Karma's influence. Whether or not he recognizes that Miles' decision to become a prosecutor wasn't just born from that alone—that it was in tandem with wanting to distance himself from anything that reminded him of his father to alleviate the burden on his heart—is up for debate, but regardless: he acknowledges Miles as Gregory's son through and through and wants to capitalize on his dedication for pursuing justice in a way that he knows would make his father proud. He wants to let Miles in on the life he was robbed of at 9 years old—the life he once dreamed of living, where he follows in the footsteps of his father by giving everything he has to save people, by fighting like hell for the vulnerable and the condemned.
That said, as much as Ray dresses up his proposition by making it out to be as if he's looking out for Miles' best interests (and the best interests of society, even)...his motives for trying to get Miles to switch sides are almost entirely selfish. Ray's efforts (and most of his actions in general, really) are ultimately a product of his desperate attempt to cling on to anything related to Gregory out of an inability to move on from his death. Wearing his hat and coat, leaving the name of his office unchanged...and now, requesting that his son literally change jobs just because he can't bear the weight of his own loneliness anymore. Because he can't bear to think that the damage done by DL-6 is irreversible and Miles has moved on while he has stagnated for the past 17 years. Because he has an idealized vision of what he thinks Gregory would want and fails to realize that his son's occupation wouldn't matter to him as long as it brings him happiness and fulfillment. In his mind, letting Miles go means accepting the circumstances that brought him where he is and allowing both of them to move on. And that terrifies him.
It's even more deceitful when you realize that Ray's pitch comes at a very opportune time for Miles given his circumstances at that point: that is, he's under threat of investigation for prosecutorial misconduct and at risk of being stripped of his badge. Ray might fake incompetence, but he's not stupid—and he takes full advantage of Justine's warnings to try to sway Miles when he's in a more vulnerable position in terms of his job. Which is...pretty fucked up, to put it lightly. Despite having a better idea of where he came from compared to most people, through this Ray shows a lack of understanding of who Miles truly is and a lack of respect for what he's come to value, even if his path toward obtaining those values had some bumps along the road. But he's so blinded by his grief that he doesn't even stop to consider how much he's really asking of him, or what Miles is really searching for.
Ray was moved by Gregory. He values saving people. Defending the weak is an undeniably noble endeavor. But to ask that of someone else without consideration for their best interests is decidedly less so.
For all his occupation requires a certain selflessness, Raymond Shields is far more selfish than he lets on. And I for one find that contradiction fascinating to unpack.
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karleksmumskladdkaka · 3 months
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Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Ruki and Yui Clear File Folder
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oracleact · 1 year
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« nothing on me »
bayverse raph x reader / fluff + angst
notes: 1.8k words, first person pov, established relationship, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used,) details of injuries and tending to said injuries.
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a knock on the window at 3am? that only means one thing: the turtles are here. smiling, I rub the remnants of sleep from my eyes and hop out of bed to open up the curtain. only one turtle faces me at the window though - raphael.
I open the window and help his wide frame step down from the ledge, but my previous smile fades fast when raph groans in pain as he steps onto the floor.
“raph, what’s wrong? where are the rest of the boys? what happened?” I speak as fast as possible to try and get to his answer, worry eating away at me with each second that passes.
my raph is the mass strength and rough hand amongst the turtles. he can handle a lot of damage since he always manages to deal out more than what is done onto him. seeing him bent over, actually using my arm for support and not simply holding me because he wants to, groaning in genuine pain rather than letting out his usual gruff noises of acknowledgment - that scares me. it terrifies me when I don’t know what has happened.
“I told them to check on dad,” he begins breathlessly, “I needed you. it’s really bad this time.”
my eyes widen and I hurry him to the side of my bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. I grasp his face in my hands to check him over, turning his head every which way, but see nothing apart from a few new scratches on his skin.
“what do you mean ‘really bad,’ raph? you’re scaring me.”
“my—“ he lifts his arm and tries to reach for the back of his shell, failing miserably and almost howling out in pain, “my shell, sweetheart. I haven’t seen it yet but I heard it crack and this pain is too much for it to just be taped up.”
I scuttle around his large form and am immediately hit with the sight of a deep crack in the middle of his shell. he was right to come straight to me with this one. he should always come to me with injuries but is too stubborn most of the time and rides out the pain: ‘it may look bad to you but it’s nothing on me.’
when the boys started to properly use their skills outside of the lair, with the risk of larger injuries increasing, I began to research and teach myself how to handle ones specific to these mutants. thanks to many in depth articles about turtle care, I have safely cleaned and covered up small cracks before. the only difference between the boys and ‘normal’ turtles in regards to care like this is their size - it takes longer and requires more focus to clean cracks, ensuring that they can heal appropriately over time. although tonight’s damage will take double that, and maybe more.
“oh raph, oh my…how? wait, don’t answer that. I’m doing my first aid stuff then we can talk about it, okay?” he nods with a sad smile and all I can do is reach out and cup his cheek, returning the expression he gave me. he moves my hand to his lips for a quick kiss before I start scurrying off to grab what I need.
let’s see - chlorohexidine solution, q-tips, cotton pads, adhesive patches and a towel. is that all I need? I have no idea right now; I’m so scared to touch him that I feel like stalling for as long as I can.
I walk slowly back to where he sits on the edge of my bed, his head resting in one hand as the other rubs at his tired eyes. I lay down all that I grabbed from the bathroom before taking a deep breath and sitting down behind him. the room is silent for a couple of minutes after that, my heart beating loudly in my ears. I can’t break my anxious stare away from the crack in his beautiful carapace.
“hey…” raph speaks ever so softly to get my attention.
“yeah— sorry. I’m sorry,” I feel tears begin to form in my eyes. I hate seeing him hurt like this. “I’m going to fix you up. I promise I’ll fix this. I’ll touch around your shell, away from the crack, and you tell me how it feels. let me know how much the pain has spread.”
he gestures ‘yes’ to me but with a frowned brow, “don’t cry, love. everything is okay. I’m raphael, remember? this is nothing on me!”
but I can see it - I can see the pain written on his face, the way his eyes look misty. I don’t want to push him to talk nor do I want to directly acknowledge the pain I can see; I don’t want to break his protective wall at a time like this. it wouldn’t be fair to do so. I wipe my tears and get straight to work instead.
my small hand reaches out for him, gently patting around the edges of his shell then smoothing over the surface, “that’s not bad at all. it just feels tingly, like the nice kind of tingly you give me.” I giggle at him. it’s a relief that the shell hasn’t shattered or anything and he can feel my hand like always.
I’ve spent so many nights tracing over the faint patterns of his plastron and committing the texture to memory. it helps calm him after a stressful training day or when he can’t sleep. it secretly calms me too because it’s just us in those moments, the rest of the world fading away and leaving only raph and I. there’s no need to jump away from my hold to save new york when my touch melts away the city completely. nothing can break us out of that warm paradise as long as we are together.
despite the touch test going well, the cleaning of his wounds will definitely be painful since the crack is open and noticeable. I pour some of the solution onto a q-tip and tell raph to start breathing slowly and deeply. I help him set a pace for it before I begin to clean.
he hisses in pain when the piece of cotton comes in contact with the wound and my tears start to flow again, “I know baby, but this part is important,” I sniffle and reach my free hand for his, “use me to balance yourself.”
“I’ll break your little hand,” there is a fracture in his voice as he speaks but he still manages to let out a chuckle with his words.
“breathe and squeeze, raph, don’t worry about me.”
and so he did - each time I dipped the cotton into the crack he inhaled and exhaled quickly whilst grasping my hand in his. I rubbed my thumb over his rough skin in an attempt to ground us both over and over again.
“one last clean and then I’ll patch it up and be done for tonight.” he lets out a loud sigh at that, obviously glad that the stinging will be over soon. I hear him lowly whimper but force a cough after in an attempt to hide the noise. once again I don’t press him on it, I just kiss the back of his hand to let him know it’s alright.
the last step is to cut adhesive patches to fit the crack, making sure to leave small gaps at the ends to allow air to flow through. this process isn’t all that different from putting a bandaid on a human arm, and thank goodness for that. I want to do everything I can to help raph, to ease his pain, so this being a somewhat ‘easy’ task to complete means luck is on my side right now.
with the last piece secure I get up from the bed to face him again, giving him a small smile to let him know it’s done. I slip myself between his legs and reach out to untie his bandana. his eyes close as he presses his head onto my chest to give me access to the tie at the back.
sliding the cloth from his face, I set it on the bed and wipe underneath his eyes; he looks so worn out. my fingers move down to draw along the scars from previous battles and to check over any new cuts, the pad of my thumb eventually landing on the most prominent scar across his upper lip. my raph, my hero, our hero…with the scars to prove it all.
“give it a week and see how the shell starts to heal. if we need to do more then I’m ready for that. I’ve done my research, you’re looking at a certified mutant turtle nurse,” I wink at him as he laughs and nuzzles further into my hold.
he looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes, the light of the moon catching in them. he may be hurt but he’s here with me and healing in my arms, and I’ll hold this man forever to show him how much he means to me. he’s looking at me in the same way - in awe of what’s in front of him - both of us dumbly grinning at each other. although, he does break eye contact when a yawn suddenly comes bursting out.
“do you want to talk about what happened, or do you want to catch some z’s first?”
“hmm…as much as I want to tell you about how much of a badass I am, I really want to crash.”
he moves to lay on his back before I catch his shoulders with high pitched squeak, “shell!” I whisper-yell at him. his lips form an ‘o’ and I shake my head. only raph could forget about his injuries that quickly.
I slip into the bed first and hold out my arms, beckoning him to follow and to lay on his stomach. he does so almost instantly, getting comfy against me and wrapping his arms around my waist.
“thank you for everything. I trust you with my life, you know.”
“and I trust you with mine, big red.”
I’m seemingly stuck staring down at him, just in stupid awe once more. watching how his eyes are effortlessly closed, evident that he is exhausted, with a faint smile playing on his lips as he shifts around to find the best snoozing position. his shell is now what catches the attention of the moon and I feel satisfied with my work on the crack. I’m still worried but the patch looks good and secure from afar so I’ll take it for it now.
I’m so happy that this brave and unstoppable mutant turtle trusts me with his open wounds, with his physical and emotional scars, with his love and being. this life of ours is crazy in so many ways but I wouldn’t ask for anything to change. well, less wounds here and there would be nice but that might be asking for too much.
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mooncleaver · 2 years
Text
To Live Fully Is to Live With Love
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this sweet, passionate and blazing side of namor is only reserved for you, and your defiant detour to a fight with the surface dwellers seems to bring the most out of his fretful heart.
pairings: namor x fem!talokan!reader
warning: descriptions of blood and injury, worrywart husband namor, eh mid writing, CANON DIVERGENT!!
notes: another part of my talokan!queen reader series!! so this obviously is a little prequel to this fic. but def can be read as a standalone :D
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"I told you not to come this time, in amado. I knew you could get hurt and here you are now," he said sternly, reprimanding your actions just a few moments ago when you swam along the talokanil warriors, brandishing your own embellished spear to protect your kingdom's vibranium source. The surface dwellers have gotten much more advanced with their weapons over the last years you've encountered them, now with an artillery of ones more deadly, with technology that could bring down the world if it were to be held in the wrong hands. When they had proceeded with their own attacks, you defiantly climbed up their ship despite Namora's fervent warnings against it, ending up with a gun wound when you got back to Talokan.
To you it was just a stray bullet grazing the skin of your thighs, the wound easily mended with some salve and a touch of your enforced regeneration abilities. But to Namor.. oh to Namor it was as if they had committed the most heinous of crimes against you, the shallow cut like a valley of bleeding carmine. And of course you understood where he came from. He was always protective of you in one way or another, never not keeping a vigilant eye on you; it was one of his ways of showing you his love and as much as it could be a bit much sometimes, you always appreciated the gesture.
So here you were now, swimming around your home with a bandaged wrapped around your thigh, the crimson blooming onto the alabaster stripes to remind you of your.. minor, incident.
"I know you said that with the intentions to keep me safe, but I refuse to stay back knowing I could offer them another pair of hands to fight, I'm sorry." You could only stare at the floor, your stubborn heart proving itself fickle once again at juggling the dilemma of justifying your actions and defying your husband's one request. On one hand it had made you so determined and resolute when you thought about absolutely obliterating any surface dwellers who even dared to touch a hair on your people and a single stroke of vibranium, but also.. it pained you to make your husband so disheartened. And you knew he did it out of love, and that made it all the more defeated.
If there was one thing about you, you would always fight for what you thought was right—for the benefit of everyone's safety—even if it meant hurting yourself or being brash and spontaneous. You wouldn't for a second catch yourself endangering any of your people and loved ones; you'd be dead before you backed out of a fight you could easily help in.
"They are strong, I'm aware my king.. but it hurts me to know they must suffer for even just a second." The wellbeing of your people has always been that tender spot in your heart. From the moment you saw just how much they have fought and paid for their freedom, their lives have been something of a pulsing spirit in you, entangling every word you say, every move you brandished; it was all so you and the Talokanil could keep what was rightfully yours all along. Only you would know how much it pained you to see familiar faces on bedrest, their restless—sometimes defeated—faces engraining itself in your head. And of course, you knew your people were stronger than the average warrior. One stray bullet wouldn't kill them immediately, and a striking slash on their skin would only wound them for a few moments, but knowing that you could have done something—could have been there at that moment with them, preventing them from even being touched by a sliver of a bullet or a knife—it made you frustrated. At yourself and at the cruel world.
"They- they have families, children, parents, sisters and brothers waiting for them.. I couldn't bare it to see the devastation again." The last word ringed in his head, reminding him that you too, faced your own share of weighty grief, a kind that would slowly deter one should they be exposed to it for over millennia. It's the guilt of having someone's life in your hands.
And right after that flash of vulnerability you broke, looking up at him with eyes that were wide—almost innocent with a certain naivety—all tainted with affliction and ardor that could not only be delineated as the love of her queen to her people. Her family. "Taak in yaantal ti' tu yiknal leti'ob.. taak in we'esik chan juntúul bey kaajal."
(I want to be with them.. I want to show that we are one as a people.)
You were always bad at hiding what your heart truly wanted. It was something that Namor admired about you; despite how much you try to put on a strong and regal facade for the sake of your kingdom, your compassion and devotion would always win at the end, welting through the hardened walls like a blazing shooting star in the stygian sky. That was what made you such an admirable ruler and woman, because you learnt how to exist between the lines of politics and heart, always wielding your emotions to be something more powerful than any crown or medals that decorated a royal's figure. You never forgot who you are and what you stood for, knowing just how to conduct yourself as if all your past experiences and everything you had learnt continues to live inside of you.
"As their queen-"
"As my wife you should know I can't sit back and watch you fall. Wherever I am you know I would stop the world from spinning to come to you. Losing you.. losing you is something I never want to think about." Namor cut you off, finally holding you in his arms. At the end of the day—without the titles or how long you have lived—you two were just people in love, looking after one another despite the disappointment or irritation. His voice practically trembling with a copious amount of concern and you're reminded of just how much you have to lose.
You weren't like you were back then when you were younger, naive and free of responsibility, not yet discovering the absolute euphoria of loving someone. But now you have your life partner and a kingdom to watch over, the people living in it coming in tail too.
Namor gave you his gaze now, fully and truly as his eyes clashed with your own emotion-ridden one and you couldn't help but dance in the torrid currents billowing in his. He slipped the palms of his hands between your neck and the side of your face, brushing his thumbs below the waterline of your eyes, back to the peak of your cheeks and your temples. "You have me, in puksi'ik'al. I'm always waiting for you right here."
And you couldn't help but close your eyes and clutch the soft cape he was wearing over the half of his body, holding onto it so tightly as if it was your lifeline, because of the words he had just said to you.. they pierced your heart in the most beautiful way.
Somehow.. somehow he always knew what to say. In every situation his words rung out like the melody of a song, sometimes riddled with jagged knives that could splinter through the toughest minds, or sometimes like the feathers that adorned his headpiece, so much softer than the clouds that you have grazed with the tips of your fingers, calming like a breathe of fresh wind.
He gently nudged your face back to his,—an arm never leaving its rightful place around your waist—gaze so close that you could see every bit of umber and brown in his eyes, the gentle singed specks in his irises dotted like the milky way, every gleam and glisten of the water reflecting on the salient expanse of his skin.
"For millennia I have searched for that missing piece of my heart. The one that has only ever beat for my people, for my mother and for Talokan. I've given myself to protect those who cannot, to give them the sun when all they've ever seen was the darkened trails of the moon." A quiet brush from the back of his fingers grazed your cheeks as he continued,
"But you.. you are the one my restless heart calls out to."
A warm wave of his breathe brushed your face and you felt just how powerful his words were—like he was baring his entire heart vulnerable right in front of you. It was so peaceful, to hear it pulsing around you, urging you to float still, becoming one with the home you found in Namor.
"I can't lose you, in reina. You are the piece that I was always meant to find. Kin ts'áik ti' teech le ujo' yéetel le eek'o'obo' wa quisieras, in yakunaj."
(I will give you the moon with the stars if you want, my love.)
The sweet breathe of release you experienced was something you would live for again and again if it meant you could hear those heartfelt words from him, to hear his passion and his ferocity in loving you as if you were the most brilliant piece of diamond in his eyes, as if he would lose apart of himself if he ever let you go. You gave him an airy chuckle as you shook your head lightly, reaching your hands up to encase his face between your hands, looking up as you fiddled with the tapered tip of his ears.
"You know I don't want the moon, the stars, or the entire constellation. All I want is you. That is infinitely more than enough to me."
And at that moment the feathered serpent god couldn't help but relish the sense of pride surging through his veins; the feeling that you were standing in front of him, right here right now and for however long you chose to love him, being the one he gets to call his love, his heart and his entire world.
You were the moon to his sea, the one that calls out to his tides with your beautiful song. When he found you, miraculously catching your gaze in the middle of the buzzing sea he felt as if he'd finally opened his eyes. To open his eyes and see just how beautiful the world could be. How radiant his life could be when he let the love spill out from his hardened heart. He has been living for his people and the legacy of the battles they've fought for so long that in the middle of it all, Namor forgot what it was like to live for himself too. And you were the one to reignite that light inside of him, with your soft smile and your searing soul, you'd awoken something long buried under a mountain of grief and anger and with you by his side, the king of Talokan has flourished so magnificently, centuries to come with a scorching brilliance of hope at the end of it.
"In yaakunech, amal xéet' ta."
(I love you, every piece of you.)
"Yéetel in yaakunech, K'uk'ulkan. Tak tu xul."
(And I love you, K'uk'ulkan. Until the end.)
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OMMMLGJFHD the dialogue really brought my emotions out like i was screaming crying making this..
anyway i do feel like this is really subpar, but i wanted to post it because despite my silly little writers block i still enjoyed writing this story. and i hate seeing it sitting in my drafts.
+ for all my talokan queen fics, i imagine they speak in yucatec mayan, however im not able to translate everything into the language, but u get the idea!
once again i apologize if there are mistakes in the translations. please tell me if i have to change something :D
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coffehbeans · 11 months
Text
Prompts 35 and 70: Sleepover and Snacks
Masterpost of Stories (92 Prompts)
Talking about fluffy g/t scenarios turned into angst, have my writing after two months of nothing ashaush featuring characters from this future story that I hope to turn into a book one day.
As always, feedback appreciated! This one was challenging with the dialogues and I'm not a native English speaker, so if something's unnatural, please lemme know.
Synopsis: After losing most of his friends when he got diagnosed with hyperon syndrome, Ethan relies on the two that haven't left his side. But a relaxing sleepover turned-wrong puts their friendship to the test.
.....................................
Nothing had to change. That's what Ethan thought when he returned to university, one week after being diagnosed. Yeah, he did have twenty-or-so less friends than usual, after growing four feet in a week and all that, but who wouldn't? People with hyperon were feared, that's a natural reaction. He used to fear them before as well. Before he started to become one of them. There's a stinging pain that pang in his chest sometimes, though. It happened every day when the class ended. Ethan yawned as the class ended, shaking off his sleepiness. He sat on the floor, as he could not fit in a chair, and took notes in a tiny, to him, notebook as he left the brown curls of his hair cover his face and shield him away from the others' gazes. He waited for all the students to leave, focusing his hazel eyes on his lecture notes. It's best this way. He never was the tallest before the mutation, so he used to be one of the first to leave class with friends, but now... It felt too weird. Too much, he realized, as his presence was enough to scare people, since he loomed over everyone, covering them with his shadow. That feeling, of accidentally intimidating someone... He hated it. So it was best to wait for all of them to leave.
When the teacher dismissed them, Ethan sprung up from his seat after diligently taking notes of constitutional law class. He'd be a great public defender after all, his scores had to be top notch. Forgetting all about it for now, he rushed to one of his friends, patting him on his shoulder. "Let's grab a bite to eat, I'm starving!" His friend chuckled while the others joined in. "Finally someone got their ass out of the seat." "We had to wait ten minutes this time." another friend groaned, but her smile showed the complaint wasn't serious. "Quick, let's get him outta here before he decides to ask the teacher something." Another friend said as he shoved Ethan towards the door." "H-hey! I'm not gonna ask anything! Not this time, at least." He chuckled. And the group of friends walked together to the food hall, telling whatever came up in their minds.
… Ethan glanced up at those same friends, taking his eyes out of the notebook. ‘Amanda, Carson, Thomas...’ Through that moment frozen in time, their eyes met. Ethan put on a friendly smile and waved at them. Those three darted their gaze away, rushing through the crowd of students and out of the classroom. Ethan's wave froze in place, and he slowly retracted them back, heart sinking. His smile waned. ‘It's okay.' he thought. 'They're scared. It's normal that they'd be.' But still... Yeah. Ethan couldn't figure out a way for this to stop hurting. Ignoring the familiar pain, he got up, the ground getting far away under his feet as he rose to his full 12 feet stature. Was the ground even further this time? Has he grown again since yesterday? Probably. He won't think about it. Ethan was an imposing-looking man. After being diagnosed, his physique changed, along with his stature, in order to adapt to the increased mass. Naturally, he got stronger. Ethan already had an athletic build before, being part of the basketball team and all that. But now? It was too much. He was too much and he hated every part of it. Even hiding his body under his clothes, he still looked as bulky and broad as a heavylifter, the countour of his prominent muscles hinted beneath the cloth. And although his square face remained the same with his friendly, round eyes and his charming smile, the sheer thickness of his neck contrasted with his amicable expression. In short, although Ethan hasn't changed his personality at all, and he knew of this fact, it clashed so heavily with his new, intimidating body that most people preferred to not give him the benefit of the doubt. Ethan could understand that, he's been avoiding the mirror for a good few days now. And the added feet in height didn't help. In fact, the extra inches would not stop anytime soon.
Ethan ducked through the ten feet tall classroom door. The university prepared a pretty big door for him, but he saw himself having to duck more and more through the doorframe as days pass. He walked through the college corridors, looking at the ground and watching his step. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a few scared or shocked faces turn to him only to walk further away, ‘away from the monster’, he supposed. 'I'll get used to this.' He repeated this mantra in his head, over and over, but it was getting harder and harder to believe in it. Ethan took slow steps, one at a time, hands in his hoodie pockets. Heel first, then the rest of the foot, one after the other. He continued those steps until he reached the food hall. As he entered it, some tables turned empty when people fled in silence upon seeing his towering form, taller than a garage door. Sure, he could understand their reasoning. But really, do they think he's a high school bully that will crush their skulls if they don't lend him a seat, or something? Whatever. He won't stay long in there, anyway. He doesn't want to bother people. Last time he ate at the food hall, only nine feet back then, people would gawk at him when he ate his mountain of food. To call that experience uncomfortable was an understatement. Every day has been an embarrassing experience. His thoughts were, thankfully, cut short when Ethan saw two familiar faces. They waved at him, and he smiled back at then. At least he had Zora and Seb. Seb treated Ethan the same. He assured Ethan, again and again after he met Ethan at his new stature, that he was not scared. But the plump brunette also acted the part, remaining relaxed, hands in pockets as he addressed Ethan with the same chill look he always had. Seb had to look much, much more up at him now but, other than that, nothing changed, and Ethan's size wouldn't provoke a gasp of fear from his friend. He appreciated that. He really did.
Zora treated Ethan the same. But her case happened a bit differently. Well, it's fair she'd react the way she did: curious. The long haired Biotechnology student had a instigative nature. Zora asked him questions if she saw Ethan was comfortable to answer then, about how it felt to have the worldwide-feared hyperon syndrome, and if he got injured during his growth spurts. But aside from that, no flinch, no jolt, no trembling at his sight. On the contrary, she'd remain short tempered, climbing the big guy to yell at his face: "stop hating yourself, you dumbass", whenever Ethan distanced himself from them out of insecurity. When she scolded him, it looked way more comical than it should've been, as her 5 feet stature in comparison to his 12 feet one caused the size difference between the two friends to be the most extreme. Zora made Ethan feel too tall, but at the same time, it was as if nothing had changed between their friendship.
They really cared. "Hey." Zora called for Ethan in the distance. "How's it going?" Seb's much quieter voice followed. Both him and Zora got up, walking towards Ethan with no hesitation at all. "Hey guys." Ethan flashed his signature dimpled smile. One he used to show all the time to everyone. One he only shows now to these two. He appreciated them more than his "thanks" could ever achieve to say. Ethan wished for their friendship to remain like this, the same before the syndrome, the same after. They were the only friends left. And that's all he needed.
...
  "You guys should swing by my place tomorrow." - Zora started after they met up and left the food hall, to Ethan's relief. The outside part of the campus was open, not cramped, and he appreciated the lack of scared eyes. Even though the sight of him walking way slower than his two friends, who barely measured up to his thigh, looked strange to random bystanders. "Ya know, seizing the moment and all that. You should totally come." "It's midterms though. Why now?" Seb, the introvert, chimed in. "Ugh, don't be a buzzkill. Besides, I just got the PS6 and I need some test subjects." "What time will it be?” Seb changed his mind in an instant. The latest game console with the best graphics. No way he'd miss that. "What about you, Ethan? Friday night at my place?" Ethan came back from spacing out, stopping mid-yawning, and looked down, way down at Zora's short stature. He's spacing out a lot, he noticed. Maybe because that conversation reminded him of when he had something to do every week, going out to party and de stress after a stressful college test week at his Law major. He'd go to different houses, from different friends, or they'd all hang out together, Seb and Zora included. Drink, eat good stuff, dance. Ethan would talk to people until his throat went dry and he'd quench his thirst with beer untill he'd forget it all. As if he needed any drinks to be talkative, always laughing and bringing people along the conversation with his stories. People used to call him "life of the party" and he'd proudly admit it as true.
"Look who it is!" "If it isn't my best buddy Ethan!" He came running to them and tackled one of his friends in an aggressive hug.
"Aw, you miss me way too much, man!" "How was the game today?" "Scored." Him and his group of friends cheered in unison. "But wait, hear me out. You guys won't believe what happened till that match." And Ethan went on and on, while the friends who also played that basketball match added some details to the story. The rest of the group laughed in unison at the random antics Ethan told. … That's usually how Ethan would arrive at the place. Looking at himself now, he barely recognized himself. That confident, outspoken guy turned aloof and often quiet, his mind always drifting somewhere else, towards anywhere but the reality. "Hey! Earth to Ethan!" He blinked and looked down, way down at Zora. "Right. Um, sorry. Friday night at your place? Can't make it." "Why not?" Seb and Zora asked in unison, the latter raising an eyebrow. "Well, it's your house. Ceilings are low, all that. I don't wanna accidentally break stuff." He let out a lame chuckle. "Dude, seriously? You don't remember Zora's place?" "Yeah that's right. My house could fit two of you on top of eachother!" Zora teased as she pointed at Ethan. Ethan winced. House was an understatement, that place was a mansion. Ethan always was terrible at coming up with excuses, and now he had no more of them. "I don't know, guys. I just don't think it's safe." Seb sighed and looked to his side, while Zora groaned at Ethan. "Oh c'mon, we don't have all the time in the world. What if we won't get to hang out like this anymore? Carpe diem and all that, you know?" "Though 'carpe diem' at my house doing nothing sounds just as good." - Seb added. Zora nudged him to shut up, earning a laugh from their much taller friend. 'Zora's right', Ethan thought. He knew too well the weight of those words. Every day that passed, he felt new pain under his skin, in his muscles, his joints. And when he felt pain, he knew he'd gotten taller. And stronger. And broader. And too big and intimidating for his taste. The city got less and less adequate for him by the day, and Ethan knew that soon he would not be allowed inside the safe borders of Steelfort anymore.
And that soon he'd be as big as the other 130-feet-tall, unfortunate souls, that also got cursed with the blasted syndrome and that now roamed the wastelands outside of the city bounds. 'One month before they scort you out.' One month. His doctor's words echoed in his head. "I mean, that'd be great, I really think so. But..." - Ethan paused when he heard his voice too loud again. He can't get used to the deeper tone of voice coming from his mouth. He turned towards Zora as she cocked an eyebrow at him  "I reaaally don't want to stomp around and accidentally break stuff at your house." "Cut the crap, Ethan." - Zora snorted. - "You're probably the most careful mutant in this town." "Maybe even the most careful in America." - Seb said. - "Remember that time when we saw him walking down the corridor and someone tripped next to him, and he apologized over and over thinking it was him who made her fall?" Zora chuckled. "The girl was at the opposite side of the corridor, and even then you somehow still thought you stomped too hard or something. Honestly, Ethan, you're just a big softie." Ethan chuckled. How could he even go against these guys? "Alright, alright. I... I can make it." "Then I'll see y'all at my place this Friday, at eight." "Why so late though." Seb protested. "Quit being an old man." Zora retorted.
... Dusk had come to the neighborhood as the sun shone its last rays on the wide sidewalk. Ethan shook his doziness off with a yawn, as he treaded the fragile pavement with slow steps, flinching when he heard a louder thud than usual. It compared to walking on eggshells. He supposed he could walk faster, after all he's not big enough to destroy a sturdy sidewalk yet, but the significant amount of people walking, or rather, rushing past him indicated otherwise. He had to be careful. Being big also meant being prone to stumble, and if he so as much as hit someone accidentally, his days inside Steelfort would be over. And he'd never see his mom and friends again. Ignoring the chills crawling down his spine, Ethan walked painfully slow until the crowd dwindled. Relieved, he picked up his pace. Hyperon individuals can't take any form of transport, so he had to walk to his destination, which was a long trek, even for him. By the time he arrived at Zora's house, the sun had long set. And wow, what a house that was. It was sleek, with sharp angles, towering and grand. Pillars of marble adorned its extravagant front wall. Ethan whistled at the sight. He now knew why Zora told him not to worry, the ceiling of the first floor looked taller than his 12 feet tall self. That, was impressive.
The second floor, from what he could see outside, had a much shorter ceiling, but it still added to the house's impressive height. The front of the house had a monumental, luxurious wooden door, adorning its limestone grey walls. Ethan reached for the door, and sighed. No matter his worries, he agreed to go, after all. There was no going back now. He extended the tip of his pinky finger and gently, slowly, tapped the ring bell. He hoped he hadn't broken it by accident. Three seconds later and he heard the pitter patter of Zora's tiny footsteps. She opened the door and he backed away, allowing her to crane her neck to glance up at him. "Finally. You’ve arrived just in time to see Seb absolutely failing at this game." "Hey!" Seb's muted voice echoed lightly through the room. Probably the loudest voice Ethan heard from him in the three years they knew each other. "Must be a hard game he's playing." He smirked. "Yeah, right. He doesn't know the difficulty is set on easy." Zora's grin widened. "Anyway, come in." After going through the doorframe, Zora led Ethan to the living room. It was spacious, with a open layout that merged the dinner room and the actual living room. In it, there was a large, rectangular sofa, a fluffy carpet, and a 72 inch ultra-wide TV, in which a grim-looking FPS game was playing, with Seb's back turned to Ethan. The frantic pressing of controller buttons and the violent gunshots from the game were the only background sounds of the room. Upon the screen changing to a red "Game Over", however, Seb turned to his friend.
"What's up, big guy." "The ceiling, I guess." Ethan grinned, and Zora groaned at the awful pun. He sat crisscross in front of the sofa, on which Seb was sitting, both facing towards the TV screen. "Heard you're showing your pro-player skills at the new console." He said with sarcasm. "Shut up."  Seb kicked Ethan's left arm with a smile on his face. Zora disappeared at the kitchen, picking a drink and chips for herself, while Seb tried yet another failing match, with Ethan teasing him and his poor gaming abilities. After a while, Zora set her stuff on the ground table in front of the sofa, while Seb paused the game to pick a drink for himself. They spent the next hours like this, drinking soda and eating snacks, most of which Ethan had paid, since he knew he'd consume much more than both of his friends combined. They brought over some chips and popcorn, Zora and Seb playing competitive games while Ethan cheered on whoever was winning. Both were utterly terrible at it.
Maybe if he could still play games, he'd teach them a thing or two of its mechanics, but his hands already got too big for the controller. After a while they chose an action movie to watch, for which Zora turned the lights off, and before they knew it, midnight had arrived. Ethan's eyes tried hard not to close. He felt sleepy, too sleepy. The movie was heavy-paced, and he had a good last night of sleep so, why couldn't he keep his eyes open? "Hey, you can get comfortable, you know?" - Zora said, noticing Ethan was hunched over. - "You're in the same position for hours now, I can push the sofa a little so you can lie down." "Ah, don't worry, it's ok-" "Dude. Don't worry. It's no problem at all." She got up and started pushing the sofa away, to which Ethan helped her with much ease. She also moved, with Seb's help, the ground table further away from them. "Won't your parents be mad that you changed stuff around?" Seb teased "Wait, so there was a problem after all?" "They won't arrive till next week. I'll move the stuff back tomorrow. Simple." "What the eyes don't see, the heart won't feel." Seb replied. Later on, Ethan laid down on his side, facing towards the action movie in front of them. That position was better. Although, he was sure he'd fall asleep now. Was he tired from class? He still didn't get it. Usually, he has less energy than normal with his condition, but this was far too much- Wait. His stomach sank. Had he forgotten to drink his pills? His heart raced against his ribcage. No, he remembers taking it after lunch. It was okay. He was okay. The symptoms were controlled, and there was no major growth spurt predicted for the week. He took a deep breath and sighed.
He'd be okay. -than? Ethan?" He snapped back to reality to Zora's calls for him. "Falling asleep already?" Seb grinned at him. "Ah, Sorry. Got distracted a bit. What is it?" "Well, I was just suggesting Seb that we use you as a human cushion." "Oh. Wait. What?" "Yeah, what she said." - Seb replied. "You see, the sofa is far away, and you happen to have much more space that it anyway, so..." "Be our backrest for a while, will ya?" "Um... Sure, I don't mind."
...
Zora and Seb laid their backs against Ethan, in front of his chest. That was... Weird. But he supposed he shouldn't feel that way. It's just weird when not long ago the three would each sit at a corner of the sofa, with a bit of space left. And now he was the "sofa substitute" instead. But still, Ethan had to admit, seeing his two friends so small and huddled up in front of him was kinda adorable. He contained an amused smile, and they kept watching the movie, laughing and saying a snarky remark here and there about its comically horrible plot. It didn't take long for the three to fall asleep, Ethan's friends unconsciously leaning back against him and using him as a pillow. They slept like that peacefully for the remainder of the night.
...
Ethan opened his eyes to the sight of a square, closed-off room. No windows, no doors, only the grey walls and the suffocating smell of mold. His heart started to beat fast. 'It was that nightmare again', his subconscious said, but Ethan himself had little to no awareness of it. He looked down at his hands, noticing his appearance. He was back to his original shape. Skinnier, shorter, as if no hyperon had taken hold of his body. Yet, he couldn't find relief in this, a sense of dread washing over him. His breathing became labored by the second. 'Where the hell am I?' He thought. His eyes darted around the place as he twisted his head around, searching for an exit. No matter what, he had to leave that place. He had to. If he did, he'd be free. He would- A deafening rumble of the walls shook Ethan to his core. Realization hit him, eyes widening. The walls started to move, closing in on him. Ethan gasped, darting to the nearest wall and banging against the concrete until blood dripped from his knuckles. Out. He had to get out. He had to leave. 'Please, please-!' he begged in vain as the room moved further towards him. The ceiling lowered as well, brushing against his head and forcing Ethan to crouch and shield himself with his arms. He hyperventilated, pushing in vain the walls that ate away at the leftover space. Widened eyes, racing heart, stomach sinking to the bottom and he'd die, he'd die, he would- When the walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything started pressing against him Ethan let out a blood curling scream, gritting his teeth as he heard and felt the cracking of the walls against his skin.
...
Zora awakened to the sound of trees uprooting from the soil. Wait. Wasn't she inside? There were no trees where she fell asleep. The feeling of something pushing against her back jostled her awake. She opened her eyes, only to widen them when she noticed how much closer to the television she was. The ever-present sound of trees uprooting and rubber bands snapping filled the room.
As well as the pained grunts and shivers of a sleeping Ethan.
Her heart fell, deducing what could most likely be happening at that moment. Sitting up on the carpet, she slowly turned to her right. A hand on the carpet twitched as its fingers extended upwards, bones cracking as it did so. A mound of flesh lumped and pulsated under the stretching skin. Chills crawled up her spine. Shaking, she turned around. Her friend was growing at a rapid pace right in front of her. And he was not awake, shifting in a disturbed sleep. She shot a glance at Seb, who was still asleep, settled in a tricky position between Ethan's arm and his torso. If he stayed there while Ethan grew, Seb would... She rushed to him and shook her friend under the expanding arm. "Seb. Seb, wake up! Quick!" "Ugh. Whaat isss it..?" He replied sleepily. "Get away from here. Ethan is-" she hissed. Seb noticed movement around him, the space becoming cramped and warm, and jostled awake, scrambling away from the once-comfortable spot. The two friends watched Ethan for that split second, struck by shock. Ethan closed in the space between them and the TV as he expanded. The floor groaned under him and it wouldn't be long until his back crushed the sofa behind them and the table on his side. Zora was the first to break from the stupor, rushing towards Ethan's face and smacking it with her trembling hands. "Ethan. Ethan! Wake up! You idiot!" Her insult had no meaning under her worried, shaky voice. Seb broke from his shock a while after, approaching Ethan as his friend still didn't manage to wake him up, with Ethan tossing and turning as if he was having a nightmare. There was a risk those heavy arms would hit them while he's unconscious. Seb halted in thought. How to even wake up a giant? And there was the danger of him accidentally hurting them in a fright, too. But…
‘I have no other choice.’ Seb approached Ethan's ear, knowing very well the danger of it as Zora looked at him with widened eyes. And Seb screamed from the top of his lungs. "ETHAN! WAKE UP!" He jolted awake with a huge gasp, rising into a seating position so fast his arm collided against Seb, throwing him over the sofa and to the ground. Ethan gasped while Zora ran towards Seb with a frantic voice. "What's. What's happening...!" Ethan looked down at his hands. Cracking. Expanding. His stomach dropped to the ground.
‘No.’ He looked down at his friends who looked horribly terrified. No. Nononono. He scrambled away from them in fright, only to accidentally support his enlarging hand on the sofa, breaking it in half. He looked back at it. Heartbeat faster. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.
This was a dream. This was a nightmare. It wasn't real. It can’t be!
Panicked, he scrambled further and further away from the paralyzed friends. Their faces pale, widened, worried eyes. But most of all. Scared. His remaining friends were scared of him. Ethan groaned when he felt pain surging through his body as he grew more. He aimed for the opposite side of the room, crawling backwards until he reached the door for the courtyard. He slid it open, breaking more furniture in the process, and squeezed his enlarging body through the doorframe until he left the house and stopped it from collapsing. Once over the spacious backyard, only the sound of his own bones snapping could be heard. His frantic heartbeat and his gasps added to the cacophony of noises, until the sounds of his growth spurt subsided. Ethan was left exhausted, lying down on the grass and gasping for breath, parts of his clothing completely ripped apart like he's a freak show. …
His ears buzzed at the doctor's diagnosis. His mother, Helena, held his oversized hand with her shaking ones. "The exams confirmed it, but it was clear to us before: it's Hyperon syndrome." The female doctor stated in a professional tone. Helena suppressed sucked in a breath, holding back her tears. She strengthened her grip on Ethan's hand. Ethan looked at the doctor in disbelief, reality not yet sinking in. A delusional part of his mind kept affirming it wasn't the syndrome, just a normal growth spurt, even when at that night his body changed so painfully and so drastically and the bones protruding from his skin and the muscles tearing through his clothes and- None of that was real, right? It must've been a joke destiny played on him. It can't be. It won't be. Any moment and he'll wake up, he had to- He had a basketball match to win next week, Carson would make a birthday party tomorrow, he had a criminal law test to pass. He'd be a public defender one day. Damn it! He couldn't just be diagnosed with an incurable mutation that turned him into, into a... "The good news is that his growth is not the instant type, otherwise his chances of survival would be slim." The doctor continued informing Ethan and his mom, the former half-listening, half-drowning in the sound of his own racing heartbeat, waiting, praying, begging for the moment he'd wake up.
"The bad news is that it's not the slow type of growth either. His type of hyperon is harder to predict as each growth spurt vary in amount and frequency." Helena glanced up at her son with worried creases on her eyes, noticing how out of it he seemed. Yet the doctor continued, looking up at Ethan's distraught face with a composed expression. "I give him around one to two months before he's 20 feet tall." “20 feet?!" - Helena reacted. "We need to begin treatment as soon as possible in order to reduce any painful side effects of your growth." This was not a nightmare. It was real. It was happening. To him. A void formed in his heart. And his mom couldn't contain her tears any longer. “I'm really sorry, Mr. Greenwood."
He was curled up on his side, a ringing sound in his ears, the frantic heartbeat in his chest, and the sore throb under all his muscles. Tears gathered in his eyes as he gritted his teeth. His friends. They must be terrified of him now. No. They must have run away from here already, to alert the police officers that another hyperon host had grown uncontrollably inside the house, breaking everything in it. It was what he deserved. He destroyed his friend's home. He broke the furniture. He almost hurt them. Heck, wasn't that Seb who he threw off him when he awoke? Was he even alright?? No, he was hurt, that must've hurt him. They were having such a great moment too, enjoying each other's company. Having fun. And he ruined it. It was his fault. Ethan rose to a sitting position, hugging his knees and attempting to take deep breaths. If he panicked, it would only make things worse. The worst thing than a giant monstrosity, was a giant monstrosity that didn't act rationally. Deep breaths. In and out, in out in out in out- "... Ethan...?" A feminine voice coming from inside the house jolted him from his panic and he looked up, incredulous. Zora and Seb were standing just by the doorframe, looking at him with worried, but afraid eyes. "You guys..." Ethan's voice was all but a whisper. Shame attempted to take over him. He hugged his exposed stomach and crawled even further away, trembling from head to toe, looking much more scared than they did.
From Zora and Seb's point of view, they never saw their friend so vulnerable. From his curled-up position, the grown 22-year-old man looked like a kid scared of the monster under their bed. Ethan was the first to break the stifling silence. "It's... It's not safe here. You should go to the nearest police station and tell the incident. They..." He gulped down his trembling voice. "they'll find a way to get me out of here for your safety. And..." He looked at Seb who still wore a pained expression on his face, most likely from his injuries. "They'll give Seb medical treatment." "Hey. I'm fine." Seb interjected. "…Doesn't seem like it to me." "Ethan, look." Zora chimed in, approaching him slowly. Her steps still shook a little. Dang it, if only she could control her shock. But how would she even lie about being calm? She isn't. The living room is all over the place and she saw her friend fill up the room in minutes and almost crush Seb. She. Was not. Calm. But Zora knew Ethan thought of all of this. Ethan dreaded this happening since the beginning, she was the one who convinced him to come to her house. And heck, she knew she had made the right call. So she stepped forward, leaving Seb to lean on the glass door and pretend that he wasn't with sore ribs. "Look. I know what you're thinking. You're probably on a load of self - hating bullshit right now but, it's not your fault, okay? I'm fine, we're fine. See?" She walked closer and closer to her friend who, while sitting down, towered over her by what she guessed was 10 feet. She clenched her teeth. Crap, he got big. So that's how hyperon-affected people all turned out? So monumental... No, even worse than that.
Ethan finally looked down at Zora with a hollow expression on his face. He reached out for her with a hand and- She flinched and backed away. He knew it. He fucked up so badly. "Damn it! Warn a soul!" - Zora hissed. She knew her facade fell down right at that instant. Ethan sighed loudly and looked at her with the most crestfallen expression she saw her friend ever making. Hopeless. The face of someone who thought he made a grave mistake. Zora knew that was not the truth and she had to convince him it wasn't. But the instinctive part of her certainly wasn't helping with the whole "don't feel like a monster" spiel. She cursed under her breath. But Ethan said nothing. He just looked at her with those dejected eyes. Like all hope had been drained. Like he was losing both of his friends on that day. And Zora had, no, she needed desperately to convince him it wasn't the case. Because it truly, faithfully, wasn't. She opened her mouth to say something, but Ethan looked at Seb and spoke before she could. "How... How bad is it? Something's broken?" He attempted to even out his voice but it came out trembling and faint. Seb sighed. He knew that Ethan would not fall for his and Zora's trick at pretending everything was fine. It wasn't. And it's about time they're 100% honest about it. So Seb walked forward, as Zora looked back at him with an expression that screamed ‘don't tell a thing.’ "It's sore all over, yeah, but no ribs broken, I think" - he limped towards the looming figure of his friend, grunting from the effort." - everything hurts but, not in a unbearable way. Might get a purple spot here and there though." With both of his friends now close to him, Ethan could properly look at them. They looked so, so small now. Much smaller than before. He wanted nothing more than them to treat him like everyone else treated him. At least that way, they wouldn't be hurt. A knot clogged in his throat and his stomach twisted and turned at the realization. There was no going back. This was real. It was happening to him. His previously happy, fulfilling life was running out, scurrying through his fingers. "I really... Really screwed things up, didn't I?" - his voice turned grave and faint, and Ethan hung his head low. He took in a shaky breath - "I... I don't mind if you guys don't want to stick around me from here on out." "Ethan." - Seb, surprisingly, spoke up first. - “Not gonna lie. You scared the shit out of me back then." He walked closer to Ethan, shortening the distance between them. "But that's all there is to it, it was a scare. None of us were in control of the situation at that moment, that includes you." "And, and also, we got scared of what was happening, but that doesn't mean we're scared of you, you know?" - Zora interjected, seeing the perfect opportunity to make Ethan understand her point. "Yeah. So like she said, no self-loathing okay?"
Ethan felt like crying right then and there. How did these guys even manage to walk up to him like that? And say all those things, and choose to remain there with him? He couldn't understand it. But oh, was he so, so grateful for that. Even though inside he thought he would burst into tears, Ethan only gave a sad smile to them, softening his eyes as they pooled with tears. "You both are crazy, do you know that?" Seb laughed. "Of course that's what you'd say." Zora pouted, a sad glint behind her eyes. "Last night... It was really fun. Thank you. I just don't think my size will allow for it to happen again, though." "Hey, in the end Zora made the right call." "It's just like I said before." - she rolled her eyes. - "Seize the opportunity, and all that." 'Because it was my last.' Ethan painfully remarked in his head.
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puppypawprintce · 7 months
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~Trapped in this Dismal Vignette~
1500 words | 1974 |
gen + snegulus + bit of inner turmoils.
cw: underage smoking, sirius bashing (theyre bonding)
Everything in the house reeks of never breaking tradition, of the walls cluttered from landing of stairs to the chandelier that hangs precariously above the large, faded-by-time wine stain on the busy carpet. It feels like when one walks through the hallway everything in existence sprouts undead eyes and it wouldn't be unlikely to spot a few thestrals once exiting the premises. It's as if things stick between the coils of life and death. Remnants of a soul burn in the two sons and nowhere else.
Walburga Black cares not for her eldest son, nor does he wish for anything more.
"Isn't your dear old brother's birthday coming up?" Less a question, and all a reason to sneer and scoff. Regulus slams his palms on the counter, the look on his face wild, then deadpan. The same gray eyes.
"Unfortunately."
"He doesn't shut up about it, he's convinced he's London's favorite doll." Severus stares from across the room with a twinge of satisfaction in his chest, it's a rarity to hear anyone agree with him. To speak and know he was in similar company. Sirius Black wasn't all that, in fact, he was below average across the board. I wish he weren't so pretty at least. Maybe if his nose were twisted just a smidge to the left. And if someone were to douse that hair in petrol.
"Even worse, in 3 months."
"I know."
"He could stand to wait til October."
And Severus has to think for a moment. Has to dig through the many layers of memories he isn't particularly interested in—he isn't interested—and there it is, the first day Autumn showed her face in the leaves and her unrelenting breeze. Sirius, the bastard all grinning and standing tall over his friends, growth spurt, lunges an arm over James' shoulder while proclaiming he wants to do something dangerous for his birthday. November 3rd wouldn't be a good day, Severus had thought.
"Their lot would kill me if they knew mine, I'm sure." Severus balances his tilted head in the palm of his hand, almost like a fateful reminisce. Though his face remains sour, and Regulus only stands to mirror.
"Potter oughta be expelled."
There's that feeling, the one where Severus thinks it be best to douse the stove and all its tangled wire before the pot can even come close to boiling over. He blinks, his breathing stiff and the line between feeling as calm as a Cokeworth boy can be to wanting to hide in the nearest quiet closet looms in between his skeleton and the subtle beating of his heart. "They would never expel Potter, he's got a whole battalion on his side."
"So do you Severus."
The boy looks at him expectantly, his hands still firmly placed and the curl on his forehead twirling to obscure the visible scar Regulus wears near his left eyebrow. An expression of mercy on his hair's part, Severus always feels guilty laying his eyes on it.
"No one is on my side Regulus, what are you playing at?"
"I just mean it would take a thousand Potters to outsmart you." Regulus moves in search through his jacket pockets. "Mum will be home soon, let's head out."
Severus hops off his place on the rickety old stool, almost on command. His feet don't reach the floor from up there, and he's glad no one ever comments on it.
"Does it hurt..to smoke?" His hands rest in the pockets of his sweater, the edges of its stitching frayed and full of holes. It's hardly sweater season yet, but Severus doesn't like when people can see his arms. And the pockets, he likes those a fair amount. They walk at a steady pace, leaving the grounds of Number 12 Grimmauld Place behind.
Regulus shoves his newly retrieved cigarette between his teeth, his perfect set of front teeth, and sets the end aflame with a careful cup of his other hand. Taking a drag, his eyes close and for a moment Severus wonders if he shouldn't be so curious. Wonders if this is a fork in the road the future him would madly scold him for.
Regulus balances his cig between his index and center. "Nah, not really."
A dense cloud escapes from his lips and rises up, disappearing into the monotone atmosphere above. It smells like it always does, bitter and strong enough to make you wanna plunge into the nearest shore just to get away from it.
But Severus doesn't run, and his eyes stay fixated on the schoolmate he's somehow managed to get along well enough to be friends with. That might kill him someday.
"Do you wanna try it?"
His heart doesn't skip a beat.
"Yes." He frees his left hand, then stuffs it right back in his pocket. Too eager. When Regulus offers him the same cigarette that had just vacated his mouth, Severus appears hesitant, and for the first time in months an odd sense of dread tears its claws into the very back of his mind. "Hold on, same one?"
"Yeah? Why not. You a germaphobe or something Sev?"
The words bounce right off him. He doesn't feel particularly strong about germs in either direction, no and it isn't like they haven't shared snacks before, or even taken sips from the same water bottle. But his mind twists and his stomach feels sick and for once in his life Severus isn't in any danger yet thinks he's looking death straight in the eyes. Petrified.
"Fire's dying." Regulus hits it again, his eyes watching Severus closely. He doesn't like the way Regulus always looks him in the eye, too near and too close and it'd take a million Regulus Blacks to get any of this out of his head. Sometimes he wonders if it's on purpose, what's his aim in all of this?
Severus makes up his mind in the same second that his friend tries to offer him the cig again, can't be too cowardice. Doesn't matter his reason, doesn't matter the fear. He tentatively holds it between his fingers and repeats the action of guiding it to his lips.
It tastes awful. Like dirt and the corroded, burnt bits of whatever got thrown into the brazier for last night's supper. Inhaling is much, much worse.
Resisting the urge to drop it on the ground, Severus hands it back and his whole body convulses into a fit of heavy coughs. His hands shake and it feels like his chest is on fire.
"Did-" he coughs a few more times. "Did you fucking jinx it?"
Regulus can't contain his amusement whatsoever, the way his giggling turns to a couple snorts and he totally drops the cigarette without even realizing. Severus looks about ready to hex the guy himself before he's met with a water bottle shoved in his face, cap already slightly unscrewed just for him.
"I didn't do shit to it Sev, you just aren't used to it."
He'd be more inclined to believe him if he didn't think his lungs were crawling with fire ants right about now. Clinging to the bottle like it was his saving grace, Severus gulps down three quarters of it without stopping. Ebbing the pain away into a subtle discomfort.
"I thought you said it didn't hurt." He wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve and coughs again.
"I forgot you're...."
"Forgot i'm what? You did that on purpose and you know it, Black."
"Hey... hey okay maybe I knew that would happen—" Severus' eyes are glaring and narrow as nervous-to-pick-up-the-pieces words fumble out of the boy's mouth, hands raised in mock defense. "But I didn't jinx anything. That happens to everyone- it's normal!"
The betrayed Slytherin stamps the sole of his shoe on the last bits of life the stick of death had left, all embers burnt out and their fuel crushed to dust. "You're very lucky that I'm generally a fan of you."
Wind picks up and brings both of their hair to reposition around their faces, Severus brushes his back into place and Regular doesn't move a muscle. That godforsaken scar stares its dark eyes back at him, 2 dots amongst the general blob-ish shape. Taunting him, making him wish to repent.
"I didn't like it."
"Clearly.. It's okay, you would've transformed my head into a pincushion if it wasn't taking effect. Feel any better?"
He takes a second to assess it all, the way his head feels and the dissipating burn in his chest and the odd sense of anxiety that'd come over him. How he doesn't like how close Regulus is and gets, yet he doesn't mind at all. Maybe it's the latter half that makes him so queasy, everything feels like sandpaper on his skin and there's nothing he can do that would land him in better shape. Nowhere else was as safe as the right here, right now.
"I don't know."
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Dog Days Pt.1
Part 2 (TBA)
Soap's never been much of a dog person.
He doesn't mind them, really, he'd loved the pooch he grew up with. But a stranger's dog, specifically a large one, yeah, any man was right to be wary of them, right?
So it's totally excusable for him to yelp like a scared little kid when a forty-kilogram German Shepard assaults him via slobber and tongue in the middle of the park. Minding his own business, drawing away, and then BOOM, several kilos of a very heavy, very wet dog that seemed intent on drowning him in its drool.
Casting his sketch pad and pencils to the side, all he could do was throw up his arms, calling for mercy as the big bastard just kept licking.
"Bloody 'ell, Riley, down!" A gravely, thick accent shouts and the assault comes to a very sudden end. Not before the bastard sticks a paw in his gut for good measure, that is.
For a long moment, all he can do is lay there, blinking confusedly at the blue sky as the slobber starts to dry.
Disgusting.
"Shit, sir, are you alright?" The sun and sky are blotted out, dark brown eyes full of concern and messy blonde hair snatching his attention. "Swear he's not usually like this, got a bit too excited and broke'is damn leash."
All Soap can bring himself to do is stare, blinking stupidly as his jaw falls open a bit. The mutts owner is nothing short of god-like, with wide shoulders and a slender build that tapered out of his line of sight.
Despite the black medical mask covering the lower portion of his face, the big brown eyes expressed all he needed to know as he gaped up at him.
Christ, the fucker was beautiful.
"...Sir?"
"Am I dead?" Oh, good fucking going MacTavish. "Cause you look like an Angel." Yeah, way to put your foot in your mouth you fucking bampot.
Promptly the pale, beautiful face scrunches up, and he could swear he sees a tinge of pink flush across his cheeks. "Did you just hit on me?"
"Did I?"
"Christ, did Riley hit your head off a stone or something?" Actual concern blooms in his eyes now, kneeling down next to him with a low huff. "Most sane men don't try to hit on someone when they're covered in dog spit."
Soap promptly lets out an affronted noise, sitting up fast enough to nearly brain his own skull of the strangers. "Oi, is'yer mutt that slobbered all over me!" He puffs, doing his best not to stare now as his higher brain functions slowly kick back online.
"Right, sorry bout that, he's usually pretty well behaved. Not to sure what got into him." As if summoned, the mutt in question, 'Riley' went in for another lick, only to be gently scruffed by the blonde. "Nough of that lad, leave the poor bastard alone. " He grunts, amusement clear in his tone.
"So, any chance I get to know the name of my beautiful savior?" Jesus Christ, apparently his higher brain function wasn't back up to snuff just yet. The blonde looks at him, and Soap can't quite tell if the squint of his eyes and furrow of his brow is a grin or a grimace.
"Mm, maybe." Brown eyes evaluate him for a moment, fingers toying with the torn end of the leather leash. "Have a coffee with me to make up for Riley, and I'll tell ya."
Soap grins despite the flush of heat that spreads across his own cheeks. "I'sppose I could be convinced, I even know one that's mut-Riley friendly." The blonde snorts, but there's a twinkle in his eyes now.
Yep, definitely grinning.
Pushing up from his squat, the blonde leans down to offer him a hand. "Well, lead the way then, mohawk."
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qwuilty · 1 year
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Clockwork - A Postal 1 Dude x Reader fic
Guess who finally got inspiration to actually write one motherfuckers
This is pre-Postal 1, kinda sorta a coffee shop au if you squint your eyes hard enough? More so just a food service setting because he just works there.
Reader is given no gendered pronouns or titles, second person POV, apologies for any awkwardness cause i haven written one of these in a hot minute and thanks to a friend to beta reading when my power went out, gotta love summer </3
It was almost like clockwork.
Work was always long and tedious, it left you heading out in the dead of night and hungry with hardly anywhere open at this hour. It was understandable, hardly anyone was up at this time of day, but you didn’t want to drive home on an empty stomach regardless. 
So you tended to pull into the closest place that’d take you in, a pretty small doughnut shop in a truck stop just a bit down the road that was always there, even if it was pretty stuffy. There weren't that many people who worked so late at night so you usually only saw one guy there when you ordered, he was pretty tall, even when he hunched down so much he was still a bit taller than you were. You didn’t know his name, you asked if the uniforms were supposed to have a name tag or something, but he sheepishly admitted he didn’t like wearing one and especially didn’t like people knowing it, so you didn’t want to press any further than that. 
He had long ginger hair, just about resting on his shoulders around where his goatee was, as well as a fairly strong brow-line and an air of discomfort at almost all times. A pair of sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose, maybe to hide his lack of eye contact, though sometimes you could spot his hazel eyes darting around behind them. 
You figured he took these hours because less people showed up, in fact, around this time you never really saw anyone else ordering besides maybe law enforcement stopping by to get something to eat before quickly heading back out. Whenever they came in he seemed worried, almost avoidant and looking over his shoulder more to see if they were going to do something until they finally left.
Still, despite his odd tendencies, you’d started to grow fond of his presence in a way. He didn’t talk too much, thankfully not asking why you always showed up so damn late or why you always got the same thing each time. At first it was a bit uncomfortable to stand there in silence, but you found he didn’t mind you just talking to him while he worked, so you eventually just talked about just whatever was on your mind if he was willing to listen. Shitty customers, some coworker gossip, general issues with management, almost losing track of time until he reminded you your order was finished. 
Sometimes he even spoke up as well, mentioning little bits and pieces of his life, just enough to give you a small peek at himself that you wondered if any others got to see. At a certain point he even memorized your order down to the specifics, it felt embarrassing to realize just how much you pulled into here, but in a way, it was nice to be remembered. 
So, when you showed up one night and saw someone else at the register, it threw you off your rhythm. 
If it wasn’t for them asking what you wanted, you’d stay frozen in thought for a while. They seemed impersonal, just going through your order until you spoke up and asked where the last guy went. For a moment they stopped and then just shrugged. “Hell if I know. Guess he decided to not come in tonight.”
At first you thought maybe he had gotten sick, but after the fourth absence, your mind began to wonder. Had he quit? Moved town? Died? It felt irrational to worry so much about someone you barely knew, but you couldn't just let that thread of your life fall off like that. 
You tried asking his coworkers, but they seemed just as confused as you were. Even the manager said he just kind of left and no one really knew how to contact him, nor were they willing to give out his personal information to a stranger. 
The only other leads you had were shaky at best, one said they thought they might have seen him at a gun shop nearby, the person at the counter there saying he walked towards the outskirts, another recounting him going out to the downtown area a while back, and with work you didn't have much time to pursue it. Should you have been pursuing it at all? He was just a stranger, people quit talking all the time. But with no one really knowing what happened to him, you couldn't help but worry, no matter how much you tried you just couldn't drop it. 
Even on the day off that week, your mind hovered around the memory of him, how soft spoken he was, his mannerisms, how he had long ginger hair just like that guy taking a drag of a cigarette as you passed by.
Wait.
You turned around quickly, damn near giving yourself whiplash to get another look. He had the same long, disheveled hair, huddled in on himself in his own little world. You'd never seen him out of his uniform, but a black trenchcoat felt natural on him. When he looked back down at you, it seemed it clicked for him as well. Your tone was a little rash when you asked where the hell he's been, but he'd worried you half to death. How he just left all of a sudden, leaving you scared for his well being.
He seemed confused, both at your sudden loudness and your concern at all. "I.. I just didn't like working there anymore? I was going to tell you but I figured you'd probably find out anyways-"  Judging by his explanation, maybe he was just used to picking up and leaving jobs without anyone actually caring when he left. At least not to the extent you got yourself worked up to. "I mean like, I'm sorry just- I didn't think you'd like… Care this much?"
You let out a loud exhale, stopping him from talking any further as you dug into your pockets. Thankfully you still had a shitty little pen and a receipt in there, tearing off a bit of it and writing on it before pushing it out towards his hands. "There, now you can call me back and I can actually know where you are if you jump off the side of the world again like that…"
He looked down towards your number, almost mesmerized by it. "Please just… Just keep me updated, okay man? Sorry to yell at you, I was just- I was really worried, okay? I've got some other stuff to do so I can't stay here, but promise me you're gonna call, okay?" You asked, walking out a bit as he looked up. 
"...Promise."
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ezralva · 9 months
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0 Kusakabe x Higuruma fic in English out of almost 52k fics under jujutsu kaisen tag is honestly outrageous 🥲 since I've seen japanese fanarts and read doujinshis for this ship dated back to 2021-2022. I'm so fxcking doomed with this rarest of rarepair pitfalls everytime 😅
There is actually a prologue for 1 eng fic but I can't open the link...
EDIT: I contacted the author, the prologue is available on ao3 now. It's very interesting! Go read it and show some love to the author if you like this KusaHigu (I just call it that way cz apparently there's no ship name for now)!
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@arcvmonth Day 18 D/D/D- Different Dimension Day!
Even though its a little late (because I wanted to color these lol) I wanted to talk about my Mermaid AU- concepted while I drew my big piece for Mermay this year! I was originally going to turn it into a series basing them on the En cards, but I didnt have time (maybe next year?)
This is a high fantasy AU, of course, and each of the stories happen around the same time-which Ill get into later. All of the Bracelet Girls, Dragon Boys and Zarc + Ray are in their 20's here, with romantic interactions between the expected couples (Fruit, Apple, FallenAngel, Predator, Genesis). All of the stories are unrelated but take place around the same time, with the the exception of the Genesis which takes several decades before.
Just slapping the word 'Mermaid' on a character and not basing them on a sea creature has never been an option for my autism brain, so I based the girls off of sea creatures I thought suited them!
Yuzu is based on a Betta fish- the only freshwater mermaid out of the five- mainly because I think theyre gorgeous with their lovely flowing tails, but also because theyre highly territorial, which I will get into later.
Rin-Rin is based off of one of my favorite sea creatures, the Lionfish. Bright and beautiful, but venomous and a ruthless predator. She's also Siren.
Ruri is based on a Parrotfish. Beautiful, iridescent scales and placid nature who live in coral reefs. Also, bird pun becuase I couldnt resist.
Serena is a Human-Mer hybrid whose based off an Angler fish. Scary creatures who use beautiful light not to illuminate their surroundings, but to draw in prey. She requires more oxygen than a normal mermaid, so like a mudfish, she can chill out near the surface of the sea and take in oxygen when she needs to.
Ray is based off of a Sea Angel, which is apparently a sea slug. It's pretty and I dont know much about it, which is the exact same thing I can say about my girl Ray.
Under the cut ill get into my thoughts for each of the AUs! Including a minific which kind of adds a little context to my piece from Mermay!
Ill go over all my ideas for the different storylines - marked by their ship- and at the end is minific! Sorry for any punctuation/spelling mistakes!
Genesisshipping:
Zarc is an apprentice boatsman on his first voyage on a big ship. After smashing into rocky bluffs, the boat he's on capsizes and falls into the ocean. Almost drowning, he is rescued at the brink of death by Ray, who takes him to an uninhabited island to bring him back to life. Over a year or so, the two fall in love and while Zarc does want to escape the island he beleives its futile and doesnt even try. Eventually a ship does come to rescue him, and he promises Ray that he'll make it back to the island one day to be with her.
After hes back on land, people ask him what happened, howd he survive, ect; he eventually lets slip that a mermaid saved him. This makes it around, and eventually wealthy prospectors hear. Entranced by money and power wished to him, he leads hunters to the island to capture Ray.
Thinking that hes back to start a life with her, Ray's shocked when other people come from the boat and try to capture her. Realising Zarc had sold her out, she escapes to the sea, never to be seen again. Realising the error of his ways, Zarc decides to stay on the island after the disgruntled hunters leave in an attempt to attone for his greed and to hopefully see Ray one more time.
Appleshipping:
Hugo had always heard tales about sirens in books and wanted to if they were real or not. After attempt of humours faliures to become part of an actual reputable ship crew, he falls in with some pirates who decide to take him out to the seas. On his maiden voyage, he is so nervous that he cant fall asleep on his first night. Thats when he hears it. A siren's song in the distance.
The rest of the crew asleep, he steals a rowboat to find the source of the singing. He finds it- the most beautiful girl hed ever seen, singing the most beautiful song hed ever heard. He falls head over heels for her at first sight.
While Rin just wanted a meal, she now has to put up with idiot pirate trying to woo her. She is severly displeased about it, and makes it known. Then she realises- this dude is a grade A idiot with the luck of god on his side and now has to live with a human taking up her favorite rock. Ridiculousness insues
FallenAngelShipping:
Ute grew up in a port town that had a great relationship with the fellow merfolk. He and Ruri grew up together, and eventually became a couple. One day, the village was raided by hunters, who both killed and captured the humans and merfolk, burning the town to the ground.
While hed somehow escaped from the raiders, he knows he has to break in to the enemy camp as they transport prisoners and set everyone free.
After weeks of planning and watching them from afar, he finds the perfect moment and storms the encampment, setting everyone free, including his best friend Shun and his lovely Ruri.
While they are displaced, remaining survivors help rebuild the city, and they try to rebuild their lives. Now with round the clock border security :)
Predatorshipping:
Joeri is a wealthy buisness man who found success selling various snake oils in his teens. Feeling bored of scamming people out of their cash, he goes to a beah town in an effort to refresh, regroup his thoughts, and figure out his next buisness move.
While walking a beach in the dead of night, he notices a glow coming from a little cave in the distance. Sneaking a peek, he notices Serena stting, resting, and his mind races. Mermaids are uncommon, but not unheard of but most people havent seen one, so what if he could show her off?
Practically smelling the money from the buisness opportunity, he approaches her. She startles, and draws a weapon on him. That night he tries to talk her down and using all of his sales knowledge and charisma, tries to get her to warm up to him.
While it ends up in faliure, the next night she is in the cave again. And he makes up his mind to convince her to join him, whether that be by convincing her with his words, or bribing her with anything he can get his hands on. He has a goal and wont stop until it's realised.
Fruitshipping:
Feeling wanderlust in his early teens, Yuya decides to dedicate his life to becoming an adventurer to see all the beautiful sights hes read about in his beloved father's old travel diaries. After about a decade of seeing what the continent has to offer, he takes a wrong turn (not the first time) and accidentally stumbles into a serene clearing blanketed in cherry tree blossoms nestled in between foothills. In awe, he explores the adorable little field, picking wild dasies as he goes, and spots a lake fed by mountains. As he investigates, he is jumpscared by a mermaid who warns him to leave immediately or face the consequences.
After a breif moment of shock, he starts to laugh. Yuzu is flabbergasted, as most humans would have fled at that point. He tells her that meeting a mermaid was always on his bucket list and that hes pleased to make her acquaintance, which leaves her even more shocked.
While she is standoffish at first, Yuya sets up camp near the water's edge to really drink in the scenery, subbornly telling an annoyed Yuzu that it was the best vantage point in the clearing.
While he'd oly planned to stay for a couple of days, as he talked to Yuzu- her sharing enchanting stories about the depths of the lake and the merfolk who lived there and in turn, her avidly listening to Yuya's travel stories- he decided to stay through the end of spring... and then summer... until eventually autumn's chill prompts him to eventually- begrudgingly- forces him to start packing up his temporary home.
Over the months the two talked and talked and became best friends. Through the wilting daisy chains they made, to the silly splash fights they shared on hot days, to almost sombre monitoring of deciduous leaves starting to fall as the lake theyd made memories in starts to slowly develop its winter shell, baring the aquatic from the terrestrial.
As they say their goodbyes, Yuya noticing Yuzu shivering slightly as she sits above the water, he promises her to come back in the spring with even more travel stories, handing her one of his earrings in a jesture of his vow. And she is overjoyed.
As they part ways, he catches her tightly gripping the blue crystal of his earring before she slips below the water, and he wishes that winter would just leave and never come back.
Over the winter, Yuya can't stop thinking of his time in the clearing. The curiosity that Yuzu would have for the camp meals he'd cook. The sparkle in her eye as he'd describe one of his adventures. Her concern over even the most miniscule of old wounds hed accrued over the years. Her witty remarks that never failed to get a laugh out of him. That no matter where he went, he'd always wonder what Yuzu would think if she'd been there with him.
As the weather started to turn from hail and snow to bright skies and sunshowers, he practically made a mad dash to the little clearing tucked away on the forgotten road near the foothills, hoping that the ice had melted in the area- if not for the whole pond, at least around the crude dock he'd put together to sit with Yuzu on, so close to where he'd set up camp.
As he approaced the sea of sakura, the blooming daisies, the grass rejuvenated after it winter hibernation, he noticed a figure waiting where she always was early in the mornings before he awoke, brushing her beautiful magenta tinged hair, facing toward the mountains in the distance.
He grinned and picked the prettiest of the wild daisies he could see on the bushes around him.
He was back home and couldn't be happier.
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astonmartingf · 3 months
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and when i'm free from the leashes of my comprehensive exam reviews, i will post my dbf fernando alonso fic that has been plaguing my drafts for a very long time!!!!
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mikichko · 2 months
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last line tag
Rules: share the last line written, tag some peeps, have some fun!
tagged by @syoddeye and @stellewriites thank you lovelies 💕!
zach's jaw is wide open as he watches the butterfly drink from the red poppy, wings slowly fluttering. "looks like someone came to give you a visit z."
two lines from a chao mi niño ask I'm hoping to work on again :D
no pressure tags: @buttdumplin @dozeydaisy @indigosunsetao3 @pricegouge
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