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quindolyn · 3 years

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Midnight Walks || James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 4363

Note: Dedicated to 🦎anon from @/randomoutsiders blog. Where I live it’s already 84℉ so this completely feasible but if you don’t live in hell and it's still cold and wintery outside just push it back a few months.

Warnings: Insecure reader, like 2 sexual comments because I’m filthy, talk of men being pigs and not keeping their hands to themselves, lots of fluff, modern muggle au, monkey bars, public nonsexual stripping,

Masterlist

Part 2

There were ants in your bones, there must’ve been. Either that or someone was trying to feather dust their way out of them. Your entire body itched with the urge to move, to run, to scream and jump in the middle of the street. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what drove this overwhelming desire, perhaps it was some sort of primal reason coded into your DNA, alternatively maybe it was the sitting at your computer all day. One could only attend so many online classes before they went insane, and a decent way into your second semester and still no sign of going back in person anytime before the next school year. You were like a purebred who desperately needed exercise. It would’ve been a simple enough fix if it wasn’t already 10:17, the sun having set four or so hours ago, even though you lived in a pretty nice area you didn’t feel comfortable going out. Men were disgusting, and going out this late alone meant risking life and limb because too many men thought it was okay to touch what wasn’t theirs. Fucking toddlers. So instead you were forced to open your windows in attempts to replicate the natural breeze and try to find another outlet for your energy. You tried. You really did. Jumping jacks, planks, the few yoga poses you could recall off the top of your head, dancing around your house to your favorite songs, but the music didn’t feel like it usually did, even it couldn’t soothe the itching in your bones. You were fucked, simply and truly. Too energetic without the proper outlet. After none of those things worked you sat down to attempt to get some of your weekend homework done, but somewhere between ionization energy and confidence intervals you found yourself picking at your nail polish instead of paying attention to your work. Groaning you threw your head down onto your desk, wincing as the pain from the impact spread through your skull. Closing your eyes you tried to imagine it, the cool night air in your face, blowing through your mangled tresses, the thud of your feet against the pavement of the sidewalk, the feeling of the grass at the park tickling your exposed skin as you stared up at the cloudy sky, looking for stars. You swore you could almost feel it all, almost pulled into bliss when you were yanked from your reprieve by the buzzing of your phone. Groaning, you pulled your head up, it wobbled on your neck, as though it was loose and needed to be tightened. Had you wanted to you couldn’t have stopped the smile that broke across your phone when you saw the notification on your lock screen, a text from James. Can I call you? Sure. You typed out waiting anxiously for your ringtone to blare through your room. Instead you were met with another brief buzz. One second, Sirius is being an idiot. Another smile, smaller than the last, bloomed across your face, Sirius was often an idiot. Picking up your phone you pressed it to your ear just in time to hear James greet you. “Hey baby.” Loving James was potentially one of the easiest things you’d ever done, if asked you would've said it would be easier to stop breathing before you stopped loving him. There was just so much to love and as his voice tickled your ear you remembered one of the things you so loved about him, the sound of his voice. With two simple words he was able to soothe you, if only a little bit. But still the ache to be outside lessened a little. “Hi Jamsie.” You crooned into the phone as you shut down your laptop coming to the conclusion you were going to get jack shit done tonight. You distantly heard Sirius in the background but couldn’t make out any words, “Pads says hi.” James conveyed. “Hi Siri!” You yelled into the phone, you waited until the bickering and laughing on their side of the phone quieted before continuing, “Whatcha callin’ about bub?” “Missed you is all, was wondering what you were doing?” “Nothing much, tried to get some homework done.” James chuckled knowing how distracted you could get if someone wasn’t there to help you stay on track, “How’d that go?” “Not well,” You grumbled, “S’not my fault either, can’t focus. I just need some fresh air, I need to go on a walk but I can’t.” Flinging your body onto your bed and landing on your back you pulled the phone from your ear, turning it onto speaker and setting it on your belly, liking the vibrations against your body as James spoke. It was almost like he was there with you. “I’m sorry darling,” James knew exactly what you were talking about. Unlike a lot of men he wasn’t afraid to broach topics like these, he would sit and kiss your head if some guy at the grocery store had been a prick and couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off of your ass, or if one of the boys in your class had made an objectifying comment. He’d listen to you lament and apologize, on behalf of all men, for the disgusting things you were forced to deal with. He had learned a lot since you started dating, he’d always been a feminist but before you hadn’t really understood what that meant. His mother and father always made sure he was aware of gender biases and he’d heard stories of women being assaulted, harassed, discriminated against and perhaps it made him a bad person but when it happened to you, when you told him about these things it was different, it was worse, he couldn’t control the rage that bubbled up inside of him. You were (Y/N) (L/N), you were his, you deserved to be treated like royalty. No one got to disrespect you. He felt the pang in his heart when he pictured you holed up in your house, like a caged animal, desperate to get out. “I know, and I love you.” You responded, knowing he hated how you had to be afraid and cautious all the time. “I love you too.” “What were you doing before you called?” You asked after a beat. “Watching a movie with mom and Sirius.” A twinge of guilt twisted in your stomach, “Oh, you should go back to them Jamsie, I don’t want to keep you from your family.” James stopped himself before he could tell you that they’d already finished the movie as an idea hit him like most of his ideas hit him, suddenly and fleetingly. Remus once compared them to a freight train. “Okay angel, talk to you later.” “Bye, Jamsie.” He hung up immediately as the last syllable left your lips causing a frown to tug downwards at those aforementioned lips. Sure, you felt a bit guilty that he’d bailed on his mom and Sirius for you but you couldn’t help feeling a little sad that he was so ready to get rid of you the second he had a chance. Feeling all too familiar insecurity simmer from under your sternum questions popped into your head one after another. Did he really want to be with you? Was this all because he just pitied you? Were you just a substitute for Lily? Did his heart still belong to her? What did he even see in you? You couldn’t help but feel like nothing compared to her, she’s Lily Evans. And you’re, well you’re just not. Time had slipped away from you, you hadn’t realised how much until you felt your phone buzz against your stomach and saw that almost 15 minutes had passed since James had hung up on you. You only briefly noted the time before your eyes flashed down to the banner displayed across your screen, another text. Look out your window. Lifting your torso, propping yourself up on your forearms and twisted your head to see James’ smiling face plastered against your window, a huge, beautiful grin, stretching across his face. You could feel a matching one fan out across your face as you skipped to the window, pulling it open relishing in the cool breeze that let itself into your room. “Hey there handsome.” You joked. “Hey beautiful.” “What are you doing outside my window?” You were befuddled, wasn’t he supposed to be watching some Quentin Tarantino or equally violent movies that he and Siri liked? “I was thinking we could go on a walk,” He explained unabashedly. “A walk?” You asked, a blush blossoming on your face, creeping its way down your neck. “You wanted to go on one, yeah?” “I love you.” Was all you said in response, he caught you as you threw yourself into his arms, the middle of your thighs biting into the sill of your window, but you didn’t care. How could you? All you could focus on was the way his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to him so he could bury his nose into your hair. “Love you too darling.” There was a part of you, an admittedly large part, that wanted to stay standing there forever but the cool evening air reminded you about how much you wanted that walk. Peeling yourself away from him you placed your chin on his pectoral, not considerably comfortable for either of you, but you were close to each other, and that’s all that mattered. “Come in.” “I was waiting for you to ask.” He winked, slinging one leg over the windowsill giving him room to maneuver his rather large body through the small opening, but James had experience fitting his body into tiny things (namely your cunt). “Are your parents home?” “No, everyone’s gone for the night.” “Why didn’t you tell me baby, I would’ve come over and kept you company.” You felt heat creep back up your neck to your face, embarrassed by the answer. Though your insecurities could swallow you whole when you were alone, they seemed trivial when James was actually there, staring down at you with so much love in his eyes. “Don’t want to be clingy.” The confession bringing even more heat to your cheeks. “Never, (Y/N), absolutely never. If anyone here is clingy it's me not you.” You corrected him, “You’re wonderful.” “So are you bub.” Reassuring you he brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Now come on! Let’s get some shoes on you and we can go out.”

James was filling up an old water bottle he found in one of the cupboards in case either of you got thirsty when you entered the kitchen, shoes and socks in hand. Your boy smiled at you, twisting the cap of the water bottle on all of the way before setting it on the countertop and moving towards you. “Want me to put your shoes on for you?” “Yes please.” You nodded, grinning cheekily. His large hands found your waist, lifting you up and setting your bum onto the cool counter. Slipping the socks from your hand he knelt down to roll them over your feet, leaving a kiss on the inside of each of your ankles. “You wanna walk to anywhere in particular?” “The park?” You offered, handing him one of your tennis shoes which were a little beat up, but still a long way from needing to be replaced. “The one with the fountain?” “Do you know of any other parks within walking distance?” You snarked, swinging your legs, feeling the need to be outside return, faster and more powerful than before. “Guess not,” He grumbled, looking up at you with a playful smile so you would know he didn’t really take your sarcasm to heart. “Hey watch it!” He chuckled when you accidentally swung your leg a little too hard and knocked his left shoulder with your socked foot. “Sorry.” You apologized looking about as sorry as Sirius usually did when he was apologizing, which honestly wasn’t much. “There you go Cinderella.” He said, as he pat your thigh once he finished tying your laces, rising from his kneeling position. “You think you’re funny do you Potter?” “In fact I do (L/N).” He grinned, sliding you off the counter, onto your feet. “Shall we?” You offered your hand to him which he accepted like a true gentleman. “We shall.”

You were right, but then again, when were you ever wrong? Fresh air was exactly what you needed, the feeling of the wind in your hair, the twigs snapping beneath your weight, the solidness of the ground. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this alive. That was probably stupid but it was liberating to be out of your house, and on top of it it was nighttime too. You weren’t often able to be out this late because you usually didn’t have someone to go out with. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was when there was no glass separating you from the moon and the stars. Despite the fact that his legs were far longer than yours James still had to speed walk to keep up with you. His heart swelled seeing you so happy and carefree as you strode unapologetically down the sidewalk. “Stop walking so fast.” He complained, finally matching your stride as he loosely looped his left arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible while still keeping the two of you moving forward. “Not my fault you’re a slowpoke.” You retaliated but nevertheless still resting your head on his broad shoulder. “It’s nice out isn’t it?” He pondered aloud. “It’s wonderful,” You agreed, closing your eyes and turning your face up towards the sky, trusting James to guide you safely down the sidewalk, “I’m sorry you had to ditch your mom and Siri to come be with me.” You apologized as another wave of guilt from earlier hit you. “I didn’t bubba, we’d already finished the movie when I called you.” “Really?” Your head perked up. “Mhm.” James hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?’ “Wanted to surprise you.” He explained and your heart soared, he really was indescribably sweet. “Well I was surprised.” “Good.” “What movie did you watch?” Wondering if your suspicions had been correct. “Forrest Gump.” He responded by popping his “p”. You laughed squeezing two of James’ fingers on the hand splayed across your stomach. “What?” “Nothin’, just thought you and Pads would’ve made your mom watch Reservoir Dogs or something.” “Come on, you know me and Padfoot (Y/N), nothin’ but a couple of softies the two of us.” “Yes, yes you are.” You responded completely seriously. “You were supposed to disagree, he whispered into your ear. “I cannot tell a lie.” “Hey!” He exclaimed in mock offense. “Come on I found the two fo you cuddling when I came over Wednesday, he was literally spooning you Jamsie. It was rather cute really.” James let you have the last word and the two of you were silent for a minute as you passed a house with a line of cars in front of it, stupid fucking people and their stupid fucking parties. You thought, thinking they’re more important than the rest of us, that it’s okay to throw a party during the middle of a pandemic. “There’s a pandemic going on people,” James muttered as you crossed in front of the driveway, as though he was reading your thoughts. You just nestled into him more. Once you cleared the super spreader house it was only a few feet before you turned the corner and your desired destination came into view causing a ginormous smile to practically crack your face in half. “Come on Jamie!” You giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the street towards the park, not even looking both ways as you bolted across the street to the park. You’d always thought that parks and playgrounds and such looked a bit creepy after dark and while today was no exception you still didn’t think twice before bounding up the steps of the play structure. Laughing, you turned your face back up towards the sky as you reached down to slip your shoes and socks off, tossing them off the play structure onto the wood chips scattered across the ground. “You look beautiful up there.” You hadn’t noticed James approach you, but he was now standing at the foot of the play structure, looking up at you. “Come up here with me Jamie, please?” You pleaded, tugging on his arm. “How could I deny you anything?” “Simple,” You responded, “You can’t.” Pushing himself up onto the structure he tried to envelop you in his arms but you squirmed away, giggling. As you ran toward the slide at the opposite end of the playground he broke out into a run after you, purposefully keeping his strides short to give you the upper hand. Breaking out into a sprint as soon as your feet touched the ground you raced towards the open field, James hot on your heels. He chased you around the perimeter of the grassy clearing, the two of you yelling at each other and laughing until your lungs hurt when he finally caught you in his arms, trying to get you as close to him as possible. He loved the feeling of your body against his more than he loved life itself. Or even Sirius. “What should I do with you now that I’ve captured you?” He mused tauntingly, tightening his grip on you. “Well I know one thing you could do to me.” You murmured. “(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N), get your mind out of the gutter Miss,” “Make me.” You teased, wiggling in his grasp. “I know what’ll fix your attitude.” James declared, adjusting his so his arms were around your waist instead of one there and one wrapped around your shoulders. “And what’s that?” “A nice February swim!” He roared jovially, hefting you over his shoulder as he bounded towards the fountain located on the east side of the park. “Jamie!” You shrieked as you bounced against him, “Slow down.” “Sorry Princess,” He huffed once you reached the fountain, he carefully lifted you off his shoulder and sat you down on the ledge of the water feature as he kneeled before you, hands pressing against your thighs. “Come on baby, go swimming with me?” “Course.” You smiled as you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere over Jamie’s shoulder. You didn’t bother watching where it landed, too enraptured with the gorgeous boy on his knees in front of you. “You look gorgeous (Y/N).” He murmured, taking it the sight of your bare stomach and chest clad in a lacy lavender bra. “I let you see mine, now get your shirt off Potter!” You commanded impatiently, you loved James all the time, but you especially loved James shirtless. “Okay, okay woman, calm down, I'm moving.” He playfully chastised shrugging off his jacket which you just now realised was his varsity jacket, his last name emblazoned across the back of it. When he caught you staring at him he teasingly played with the hem of his shirt, rolling it in the tips of his fingers until you lightly kicked his bent knee. He then discarded his pants, throwing them and his shirt somewhere to his right, carefully laying his jacket on a bench a few feet away he was left only in his boxers and you took this time to appreciate how his skin shown in the moonlight, his darker complexion brilliant in the darkness of the park. “You wanna keep your shorts on? He lilted, moving towards where you sat on the bench encircling the fountain. You nodded in response, not wanting to be so vulnerable in such a public space. “Okay baby sounds good.” James leaned in towards you pressing his lips to yours before he scooped you into his arms before stepping into the fountain, even though it was warm ish outside the water of the fountain hadn’t had enough time to truly heat up because the water that lapped at his midcalf almost had him feeling bad for what he did next. Which was dropping you into the freezing cold water, keeping you upright by his hold on your shoulders before you were able to ground yourself on the floor of the fountain. With water sprouting up from the top and cascading down 4 smaller tiers reminiscent of bird baths, getting larger and larger in radius as they went down, cold water nipped at your skin. “Agh!” You shrieked, “It’s freezing!” “Calm down drama queen!” James snorted, “Little cold water never hurt anybody.” “Speak for yourself!” Screaming as James bent down to splash you with water you tried to run away resulting in you falling backwards onto your bum. “You okay baby?” James asked nervously bending down next to you, surveying your near naked body for any cuts or bruises. Your response came as you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, submerging the entirety of his body in the chilly water. He quickly pulled you down with him so that your head was submerged, your hair billowing out around you in the water. When you pulled back up to the surface your wet hair was plastered to your face. And though you were cold, wet, and maybe a little banged up your heart was aflame, this had been exactly what you needed, to run around like a little kid and lose yourself, if only for a little while. Glancing back down your jaw dropped, the light coming from the fountain walls made the shadows of the water reflect on James’ dark skin making him look even more beautiful, like something out of a book. He took your temporary lapse as an opportunity to flip you around so that he was on top of you, he thought you were always stunning but something about you beneath him made you shine like nothing else he’d ever seen. Taking good care to make sure your head didn’t bump against the fountain, and that your head was above water, he trailed kisses from your temple to your jaw. When he reached your chin the second freight train of the night hit him head on and he stuck out his tongue licking from the point of your chin, up your lips, the bridge of your nose, and up your forehead until he reached your hair line where he left one more gentle kiss. “James Potter!” You shrieked, a giggling mess, “What the hell?” He lifted himself off you so he could once again scoop you into his arms, “Come on my little water nymph, let’s get you dry, don’t need you getting sick on me.” “Think you should’ve thought about that before you dunked me into the fountain in nothing but my bra and shorts.” You retaliated to which he only rolled his eyes, before shaking his head like a wet dog. “I swear to God Potter, you’re a Golden Retriever.” “Hmh?” He asked, stepping out of the fountain. “Playful, loyal, energetic, smart.” You explained, planting a kiss on his nose. “Shaking off to dry like a fucking dog.” “You love me.” He grinned, like the thought was just now hitting him, like you hadn’t said it already multiple times that night. “That I do Potter.” You agreed as he set you down on the bench where he had laid his jacket, taking care to slip your arms into it one at a time he pulled it close to your body to keep you warm before coming up behind you, tipping your head back so he could wring the excess water out of it, taking this as an opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat to which you hummed. Upon slipping on his previously discarded pants and shirt, an endeavor you watched very closely, not wanting to miss a second of how his muscles shifted underneath his smooth, taut skin, he sat down next to you. “It’s a beautiful night.” “That it is.” You agreed. The two of you sat there for a moment before James carefully stood up, “Where are you going Jamie? Too tired now, m’done playing.” “I know angel, come on, not gonna play, just get more comfortable.” He soothed, taking you by the hand and walking you over to a set of fairly new monkey bars. Picking you up from the bottom of your thighs he pushed you up and above his shoulders to sit on top of the monkey bars and you were reminded why it sometimes came in handy to be dating the captain of the football team. Swinging up next to you on the monkey bars he slid his arm around your shoulders, both of your legs meeting the edge of the cold metal at the bend of your knees, your bodies there down hanging off leaving the both of you on your backs staring up at the unusually starry night sky. “There’s Orion.” You lifted your arm to point out the constellation, “ Surprised we can see so many.” You marvelled. “It is rather pretty.” “‘Rather pretty’?” You gasped exasperated with the boy next to you, “It’s not just ‘rather pretty’, it's gorgeous!” You corrected with a huff, turning your visage back up towards the heavens. “Eh,” He shrugged, “I’ve seen better.” “I swear to God, James Fleamont Potter if you say ‘You’re prettier than any constellation’ I’m going to push you off these monkey bars.” A chuckle pushed its way past his lips as he brushed his lips along the part of your hair, “You know me too well don’t you (L/N).” “Yeah, I’ve got your number Mister.” James pulled out his phone to check the time, “Hey baby, it’s midnight.” He whispered in your ear, turning his phone screen so you could read the time. “Happy Saturday my darling boy.” “Happy Saturday Princess, let’s get you home.”

Note: I know in my initial ask on @/randomoutsiders you guys went home and more fluff ensued. Maybe a part two?

tagging: @randomoutsiders

#harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you

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mythicamagic · 3 years

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Sesskag Week: Day One ‘Green’

Title: Stop me if you’ve heard this one before

Summary: Kagome witnesses Inuyasha and Kikyo in another loving embrace and runs away, stumbling straight into Sesshoumaru that moonlit night. (My attempt at an old fandom trope.)

Rated T

Words: 4,000

You can read this on Ao3, Dokuga and Fanfiction.net

AN: I just wanted to try my hand at an old sesskag fandom trope that I reckon was in the height of popularity from the early 2000s- 2010s. Other tropes from that time included Abusive Inuyasha, no one knowing what the canon end or final battle was like, and mokomoko being sentient. Ah...old memories. If this fic feels like it's from a bygone era, well...that was the intention lol. For Sesskag Week Day One - Green.

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Standing frozen stiff, Kagome stared ahead. A gasp remained locked behind her teeth. Slim fingers dug into the bark of a tree she'd hidden behind, gazing around the trunk towards a couple cradling each other tightly.

This was the second time. The first had hit harder inside her chest, the slam of heartbreak cracking the fragile shell of first love that had closed around her heart.

But she'd made a promise to Inuyasha; to remain by his side. She needed to get over this haze of green misting her eyes, the jealousy roaring through her veins. Inuyasha and Kikyo used to be lovers, it was perfectly natural and humane to want to hold his lost love.

That didn't make it any easier to see.

In fact, the emotion welling up in her throat threatened to burst louder than before. Fearing the strength of her own reaction, Kagome stepped back. She took another, then another, whirling around to flee into pitch-black darkness.

I wanted to be more mature about this, she thought. The tears stinging her eyes bespoke of her anger, worry, and heartache- like an old wound had been freshly ripped open anew.

Kagome couldn't be understanding or mature, not like poised Lady Kikyo likely could. Kagome was 15, emotive and sparking. She was fire, passion, a roaring flame of anger that could climb so high nothing would stifle it.

Stumbling over tree roots in the dark, quiet woods, Kagome ran blind. When she felt that she'd covered enough ground, far away from the lover's embrace, she stopped abruptly in the middle of a meadow. Sweat beading her temple and throat burning, she threw back her head.

And yelled.

She threw all turbulent emotions into it, crying so loud her windpipe protested. The noise became horse and broken before she stopped.

Standing within that moonlit clearing, Kagome caught her breath, tears threatening to spill over.

"Must you make such noise in the dead of night?" a steady voice drawled.

Her chest constricted, breath halting. Shadows peeled off from the trees, a figure revealing itself under the moonlight.

Kagome blinked hard, trying to fight tears as Sesshoumaru stepped closer. She moved back to keep distance, vaguely wary. Shit, she'd forgotten her weapons.

He wasn't an enemy per se anymore but they weren't exactly allies either. Since he'd adopted that human girl, they seemed to be in more of a stalemate. Nonetheless, the caprice of the Killing Perfection's moods were unpredictable.

"M-my bad, I didn't think anyone was around."

"You cried like a wounded animal," his lips curved, as though enjoying the thought. "Take heed, girl; such wailing will disturb demons with keen hearing- and not all are as forgiving as I tonight."

"Right, duly noted," she mumbled, rubbing her arm. Damn it. She'd just wanted a place to cry. Sesshoumaru was the last person she wanted to feel vulnerable around.

Golden eyes slid up to observe something beyond the trees. Turning to follow his line of sight, her chest constricted- glimpsing a trailing soul collector in the sky.

"Inuyasha's dead priestess uses those creatures, does she not?"

"Y-yeah, they're Kikyo's soul collectors."

His attention returned to her face, resting heavily there. It disquieted her until at length, he finally made a noise. "...Hn."

The Daiyouki smoothly pivoted, walking out of her available vision to meld within thick darkness again, but she sensed him linger beneath the trees, perhaps taking a seat.

"Keep the snivelling to a minimum."

Kagome startled, blue eyes widening. The first tear fell- closely followed by the second. Soon a stream of them flooded down her face, and she crumpled to her knees, palm clasped tight over her mouth as she tried not to sob.

She wasn't sure how or why. How she could suddenly fall apart in front of him when Kagome prided herself on not crying in front of anyone if it were possible. The why also remained a mystery- why did he invite her to stay? Sesshoumaru was not a charitable sort. Perhaps his sadistic streak enjoyed the salt of endless tears.

Kagome stayed there, quivering in the moonlit clearing for a good while, grass cushioning her bare legs, arms wrapped around herself protectively. When at last the sobs abated, she shakily stood.

Without a word to the demon who had watched her like a voyer of her pain, Kagome headed towards the village after piecing herself back together.

She couldn't see Sesshoumaru's expression, nor the way in which citrine eyes followed her figure until she stepped out of sight.

---

It wasn't like Kagome cried after every damn encounter with Kikyo, though they did leave her worn and exhausted. She felt mighty proud of not bursting into sobs the second Inuyasha's eyes lingered on her a little too long. But Kagome could bear that. She could bear many things.

It was fine, totally fine. She was fine!

Until she wasn't.

It had been two months since that emotional night and thankfully Sesshoumaru hadn't acknowledged her fine display of despair and teenage hormones. In fact, he seemed a little quieter during their encounters while hunting for Naraku, pinpointing her amidst her friends and eyeing her carefully sometimes.

So it was with mild surprise that Kagome stumbled into him again on one such occasion where she needed a good cry. And then again a few weeks after- followed by another encounter near a waterfall a month later. Every time, Sesshoumaru said nothing. He merely waited a respectable distance away, not particularly looking at, nor acknowledging her sorrow as she let out pent up frustrations.

What should be an immensely private thing had changed. Kagome wasn't sure what to feel about it, especially when he began erecting barriers around the area.

Almost like he was ensuring her privacy while continuing to invade it himself.

"W-why…?" she choked out one evening, sitting upon a log with only the Daiyoukai for company. Inuyasha and the others were none the wiser, sitting back at camp further within the forest. "Why are you here, hanging around? Is it fun for you to watch this?" her anger simmered, misdirected.

Sesshoumaru's lazy gaze slid over to her, reclining at the base of a tree. He huffed, drawing a knee up to gracefully drape an arm over it. "Your wailing is an assault on my hearing, I derive no pleasure from this."

"Then what's the deal? I find it hard to believe you're doing it for me."

"Hn, you are correct, I am not," he freely admitted. "This act of concealment is out of acknowledgement. Warriors must not show weakness in battle, nor to anyone but a select few. I am merely ensuring your wish to hide your pain is successful since you are so terrible at doing it yourself," inhuman eyes pinned her in place. Her breath stalled at their intensity. "Your desire to conceal tears and weakness is unexpected for one as emotional as you."

Kagome picked at her fingers. "It's not out of a sense of duty or warrior pride as you seem to think. I just don't like burdening people with my problems. Only...all this energy piles up and explodes out as anger at Inuyasha anyway, I'm not suppressing or hiding anything at the end of the day," she gave a self-deprecating smile. Letting out a long whoosh of air from her lungs, Kagome turned to him.

"For what it's worth, thanks. For uh- concealing me. I still think it's odd that you're going to all this trouble but I'm grateful."

He arched a brow, unruffled and outwardly placid.

Wiping the remaining tears away, she gave a weak smirk. "Urgh, I blubber so loudly over a guy I really shouldn't be in love with. Kinda stupid."

"Indeed," he drawled without sympathy, glancing away.

"And you're still a jerk," she hummed, smiling slightly. But a weird, considerate one. Was it possible to be both considerate and a jerk?

Sesshoumaru did not look at her, tilting his head back to gaze at the branches overhead.

"You 'blubber' so loud a 'barrier' is necessary in order to keep your privacy. Inuyasha would catch your scent otherwise."

"Can Naraku see us like this?"

"The barrier does not mask us from sight, it merely hides scent. It is effective on Inuyasha and other demons but the spider could easily survey us from a distance."

Kagome sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Gotcha," she murmured, falling into a strangely companionable silence with him, before asking; "have you ever been in love?"

His reply was immediate and crisp; "no. Such things are for fanciful beings."

Biting her lip to keep from mentioning his 'Great and Powerful Father' had fallen victim to such fanciful things too, she hummed.

Sesshoumaru frowned in her direction. "Speak."

"I just think- when you do experience love, it's gonna knock you off your feet."

He sneered, "you think yourself an expert on the subject?"

"Gods no! Do I look like one?" Kagome grinned, gesturing to her tear-stained cheeks.

Sesshoumaru searched her face, visibly relaxing slightly. He tilted his head, surveying his sharp nails. "For what it is worth, if I had an opinion on the matter- which I do not," he assured. "I should think your fanciful 'love' emotion is not supposed to cause such pain. I question your dedication to it."

"My feelings for Inuyasha aren't something I can turn off. Believe me, I would if I could," shifting she gazed up at the stars, smiling gently. "Wow, Ursa Major looks so clear and close tonight."

Youki brushed her senses, her only warning. Soft grass crunched beneath boots as Sesshoumaru joined her on the log, sitting beside her. Mokomoko brushed the exposed skin of her knee. His eyes narrowed. "You are referring to the stars?"

Kagome blinked with surprise at his sudden piqued interest, raising a hand to point them out. "Yeah, a constellation. Ursa Major starts there and ends there," her finger drifted.

Sesshoumaru's blank features became lofty, huffing. "That is the incorrect name for it. Those stars are called Satoko."

"Who told you that?"

"My instructor when I was young. And this collection," he reached out, plucking her hand out of the air and redirecting her point to another constellation, "is Mineko, a volcano spirit."

Her skin burned at the contact, feeling his calloused palm, rough from years of training- clasping the back of her hand. Kagome blinked, feeling strange. Her stomach jumped, and she felt grateful and confused when he released her.

"I-I see! Tell me more about them, are they linked to your demonic heritage?" Kagome asked, flexing burning fingers in her lap.

Even hours afterwards, the sensation of warmth and strong youki flitting over her flesh continued to itch at her skin.

---

"I don't want to talk to you! JUST BACK OFF!"

Inuyasha's expression flickered, open hurt briefly appearing before white ears pinned flat to his skull. "FINE! Go running home again, see if I care!"

Kagome stormed away, hands balled into fists. She didn't call for Kirara to fly her to the well, she couldn't be bothered to haul herself back to the future and continue their long and tired trend of long-distance pining followed by disgruntled reconciliation.

She was tired.

Miroku, Sango and Shippo were tired too, judging from the multiple sighs sounding out behind her.

Before she could step out of earshot, she heard the monk murmuring to Inuyasha, encouraging him to follow her and make up. Likely to save everyone the hassle of another drawn-out spat.

Oh no.

Hadn't anyone listened to what she'd said? She didn't want to be chased in some coy 'let's have a fake argument' way. Real hurt and bone-weary annoyance soured her mood.

Hurrying away, Kagome began to run alongside a stream, jogging through a sparse forest and hoping to put distance between them. So lost in her thoughts of avoiding the Hanyou was she that Kagome burst through a youki barrier without noticing, glancing over her shoulder with paranoia.

By the time she detected wafts of steam brushing her skin, it was too late to stop. She gaped upon facing forward, almost crashing headfirst into a well-sculpted chest.

Long strands of silver against bare skin caught Kagome's dazed attention, gaze travelling up to find golden eyes staring down at her. Sesshoumaru paused half-naked before a hot-spring he'd likely intended on bathing in, tipping his head to one side in a silent demand for explanation.

"Kagome!" a distant voice resounded through the trees.

Panic erupted inside Kagome's heart and she turned to the demon. Her hands latched onto his remaining arm, blue eyes stinging.

"Please..."

She couldn't articulate what she wanted, even though it was so simple. Something thick clogged her throat.

The Daiyoukai lifted his attention to the trees. He then moved swiftly.

Sesshoumaru tossed his red and white hankimono over her, enclosing it tight around her body. It shielded Kagome from sight as her vision became swallowed by white silks.

Kagome jolted as a hard force shoved her down into dewy grass that perspired from heady steam saturating the air. Before she could react to the plains of a lean body pressing against hers, his weight pinning her to the ground, she heard branches shaking. Twigs snapping.

Her loafers were ripped off her feet, tossed somewhere further away. Likely out of sight. She heard them clatter over the sound of her drumming heartbeat, unable to see what was going on.

"What the- Sesshoumaru!" Inuyasha snarled, sounding slightly out of breath. "The fuck are you doing, hanging around here?"

A clawed hand minded the folds of the hankimono apart just enough to expose the side of Kagome's cheek- firm lips pressing against it. She stiffened. Sesshoumaru kissed her skin heatedly, his sigh billowing hot breath over her sensitive skin.

"Clearly I am enjoying myself with a woman. Do not interrupt, whelp."

Kagome could barely breathe, face turning steadily red. She lay frozen, reeling.

"Keh, whatever. Just tell me if you've seen Kagome pass through here."

He must not be able to smell me...

"Can you not keep tabs on a simple miko, brother?" Sesshoumaru purred, his hand gliding over her covered thigh, stroking back and forth. "Did she flee from you? I cannot say I blame her."

A snarl ripped through the hot springs. "Piss off! I'll find her myself!"

Furious sounds of bushes being slashed aside rang out, Inuyasha's swears becoming fainter as he drew further and further away.

Left with a demon straddling her and enclosed in luxurious silks, Kagome exhaled. She blinked, briefly dazed as the cover was lifted from her face, eyes adjusting. Dappled sunlight stretched across Sesshoumaru's face as he lingered close with an unreadable expression.

Kagome swallowed. "Thanks," she managed to say.

She's never been this close to a guy before, well not like this, anyway. Inuyasha carried her on his back or occasionally in his arms if the situation got dire, and they'd hugged. But this felt different.

Sesshoumaru braced himself over her using his one available arm, corded muscles leading down to a tapered waist. He was handsome in an aristocratic, cold sort of way – all hard angles and sharp edges. Her polar opposite. The heat of his bare skin bled through her school uniform, their hips melded together, and Kagome was struck by something painfully obvious that had eluded her until now.

There were...other options besides just Inuyasha.

Clearly, the Hanyou knew this little nugget too, since he flitted between herself and Kikyo.

But really, Kagome hadn't given it much thought. Hojo liked her but was easily dismissed. Kouga liked her but she'd always been too busy to really give him a chance.

And Sesshoumaru?

Her attention was helplessly fixed on him while the demon craned his neck down, scenting her hair.

Sesshoumaru had never been on the table before. Did he even look at her like that?

Golden eyes slanted to meet her, half-lidded. Her stomach did a flip, thighs twitching. Soft pink lips parted, and his attention flew to her mouth, lingering.

Before she could say anything, Inuyasha's voice sounded out somewhere close by again. "Damn it, Kagome! Just come out! Quit hiding!"

Kagome found herself sighing- stilling when she caught Sesshoumaru's dark rumble. His lips peeled back with displeasure, body leaning up and away from hers, climbing off.

Remaining sprawled on the ground for a moment, she calmed her racing heart. Picking herself up unsteadily, Kagome unwrapped the hankimono from around herself, awkwardly folding it as best she could and handing it back.

"I better go."

He inclined his head. "Until next time."

Next time.

Her gut wrenched. The next time she became upset with Inuyasha chasing after Kikyo. Oh wow. It really had become something so commonplace it felt inevitable.

That wasn't right or normal. That wasn't how she wanted to live, was it? Anticipating one crying session after another?

"Actually, let's meet up," she said, setting her shoulders back.

Surprise brightened his gaze. Sesshoumaru's lips twitched, "meet up, hm? You make it sound like an illicit affair."

Her expression darkened, "no. I'm not into that," she snipped, pushing her vindictive mood down. This was not an offer out of petty revenge. She just wanted to see him out of choice for once. "I brought a telescope. Let's use it tomorrow when it gets dark."

He agreed to it, watching her leave in that quiet, interested way he usually did. Kagome glanced back in time to see him partially turned away- hankimono clenched in his grip and lifted to his nose in a careful inhale.

---

Kagome actually felt quite happy about the meeting. Anticipation had raced through her veins during the entire day, though she didn't breathe a word about it to her friends.

After finishing up her food, she'd hung around camp late into the evening, before inching away with a weak excuse.

She didn't notice Inuyasha's keen eyes trailing after her, too preoccupied with hurrying around a nearby waterfall and retrieving her telescope that she'd hidden behind some rocks earlier.

Carrying the heavy thing up to the crest of a decently sized hill, she staggered upon finding the Daiyoukai already awaiting her at the top.

Kagome stopped and stared. She then felt a genuine smile curve her lips. How strange, that he could invoke such a reaction.

"Did I keep you waiting?"

Sesshoumaru lifted his chin haughtily, grunting. "I am not some lost puppy following you around, miko. I sensed your approach from my camp and generously decided not to stand you up."

Kagome grinned. What a big response. Almost like he was lying.

Giggling softly to herself, she arranged the telescope set, angling it up to face the distant cosmos. "Okay, you're gonna love this. I'm going to bore you with astrology and point out zodiac signs."

"These fancy foreign words do not sound boring," he uttered, leaning in close to view the stars with faint amazement, perhaps not anticipating the clarity of their view. Kagome felt his hip brush her side, her cheeks immediately blazing red. She tried to temper her reaction but failed miserably, looking at him briefly.

His placid features were much too close, familiar dark youki humming in the space between them. Comforting. Golden eyes met hers, ever watchful. Waiting.

"Sesshoumaru!"

They immediately flew apart as though they'd been doing something scandalous, Kagome's heart leaping into her throat.

Inuyasha stood a little ways away, teeth on display, hand resting on his sword. "Get the hell away from her!"

"Inuyasha- wait," she tried to cut in, but Sesshoumaru was quicker. Lifting his remaining hand, he fed youki into it, allowing deadly fingers to elongate into murderous talons. However, much to her surprise, he faced Kagome while flexing them.

"I will kill her if I please, Inuyasha," he rumbled. "She is a mere fanciful human."

Blue eyes widened, but Kagome clocked onto what he was doing immediately. It lingered there under his calm features that he tried to harden into contempt.

He was playing the villain. For her.

Likely out of some misguided desire to keep everything at the status quo, because he believed it would be easier on them both if they weren't seen as friends. Everything halted inside Kagome. She felt like she'd been coasting through her days without really questioning it.

"Bastard!" Inuyasha snarled, ripping his sword from its sheath.

With a strange sense of calm, Kagome raised her head. She then stepped in between them both, placing her fingers atop Sesshoumaru's sharp, transformed ones.

"That's enough," she said quietly, lowering his large hand.

"K-Kagome? What're you doing? Get back!"

"I said; that's enough, Inuyasha!" Kagome grit her teeth, tension gripping her fiercely- until it abruptly left all at once, rendering her exhausted.

"We need to talk," she said softly, gazing at him meaningfully.

Inuyasha blinked, lowering his sword as his ears pricked and lowered.

Turning to Sesshoumaru, she smiled weakly. "We're going to have to cut this meeting short, sorry."

"We can always reschedule."

Kagome gentled, a warmth pooling inside her that she hoped to revisit soon. However, the Daiyoukai hadn't made it three steps away before familiar laughter spread over the vast countryside beyond their hill.

Miasma leaked out of the sky, waning flowers on their stalks and killing the grass, rendering it dulled brown.

Naraku appeared in all his true, villainous glory- at exactly the wrong time nobody wanted to deal with him. However, absolutely no one could ignore this fight, as a completed Shikon jewel rested in the palm of his hand.

Kagome's stomach dropped. She automatically accepted her bow and arrows from Sango and Miroku when they arrived, looking grim-faced and out of breath. Inuyasha lifted his sword again with determination blazing in his eyes.

The Final Battle had begun.

---

They say 'time heals all wounds.'

Kagome would like to have a word with whoever 'they' were because this sentiment proved false. Time muted pain. It concealed it under layers of civilian life, responsibilities, family dinners and get togethers with friends, but her deep wound never really healed. The pervasive desire to return back to a life that had been stolen from her.

She couldn't say it had been perfect in the Feudal Era but she still missed it terribly. Missed her friends, travelling, exploring, strengthening her burgeoning powers.

She also missed someone she hadn't anticipated longing to speak to.

After killing Naraku and getting her hands on the jewel, Kagome had made her wish;

'I wish Kikyo would come back to life.'

It had resulted in trapping Kagome in the future, the Bone Eater's Well closing, barring entrance. She'd figured the look on Inuyasha's face had almost been worth it, his gob-smacked expression kind of hilarious.

Perhaps the wish had been an out of nowhere impulse. Who knew. All Kagome knew was that a part of her had died that day on the hill with the telescope- the candle of first love snuffing out. She still cared for Inuyasha of course, she wouldn't have wished Kikyo alive otherwise, but the act said something. They'd never be anything more than friends.

After trying her hand at dating a few boys in class, Kagome had broken up with them and remained single for the better part of a year. There wasn't anything wrong with them, per se, but it had felt disingenuous.

It wasn't them she wanted to speak to.

At the age of 18, the miko got her chance. Inexplicably, and without warning or provocation, the well reopened again one night.

Kagome stirred awake, lured downstairs by the promise of magic. It pulsed strongly like before, so she slid her legs over the rim of the well without fear that it would be a oneway trip.

Leaping down while still clad in her patchwork style pyjamas, dark hair whipped upwards as blue light swallowed her whole.

Immediately the smell of city smoke was replaced with distinct smells of petrichor. Fresh scents guided her feet to land gently on the bottom of the well, looking up at dark, cloudy skies.

Climbing out and feeling moisture lingering in the air dampening her hair, Kagome looked up, breath hitching.

The clearing looked exactly the same. Achingly nostalgic.

It sprawled empty and lonesome, awaiting her in complete silence. Kagome noticed the dirt disturbed around the well from how often she and Inuyasha had travelled through it.

Breath catching, hot tears stung her eyes.

Laughing weakly to herself, Kagome tried to rub them away in vain, more rolling down her cheeks. Unlike the usual times though, these were happy tears. Relief threatened to buckle her knees.

"I'm home," she shuddered.

"...Welcome back."

Snapping her head up, Kagome swallowed an embarrassing noise, warmth melting into her expression. She took a step, and then another, walking over to Sesshoumaru as he stood a little ways away, moonlight highlighting his hair.

"Y-you're here?"

Golden eyes flitted over her face, gentling a touch. He reached out and brushed pale knuckles against her jaw, catching tears upon it. "I sensed you. As usual, you blubber too loud, miko."

Choking on a sob, Kagome laughed, catching his hand and pressing her lips to the inside of his wrist.

Sesshoumaru stiffened, attention zeroing in on her. Kagome held his gaze as best she could with watery eyes, smiling.

"Date me," she stated plainly.

No second-guessing, no 'will they, won't they?' no more pining or questioning. Kagome refused to do it again.

He seemed somewhat taken aback by her forwardness for a moment, before a strange kind of intensity livened his expression. He wound his single arm around her waist, pulling her in close.

"What boldness, Kagome," he purred, lips ghosting the side of her ear. "But you can do better than that. Are you certain that is all you want from me?"

Kagome blushed hotly, shifting to catch his eye and smirk. "I just made it back here after three years. Let me catch my breath," she teased, hooking a hand under his yellow obi. "But...yeah, I might want more soon, you jerk."

Sesshoumaru rumbled with approval, swiftly ending the charade of teasing and swooping in. His lips claimed hers firmly, and it was not a kind, sweet kiss but she didn't mind, pressing herself against him. His tongue delved into her mouth, brushing against hers as a clawed hand snaked up into dark hair, gripping tight.

Smiling against his mouth, Kagome trying her best to keep up with his rough kiss as he bit and sucked her lips, inhaling her scent. He almost seemed elated, kissing her so quick and eagerly, like he'd been starving for it.

Out of curiosity, Kagome slid her palm over his chest, finding his heart racing.

Sesshoumaru broke away to plant heated kisses against her neck. He panted, the hand in her hair shaking with want of her.

Kagome stared, slowly looping her arms around his shoulders. "You...want me?" she said quietly like an obvious revelation. It felt so strange and surreal.

He huffed with amusement against her lips. "Hn, it appears you have made me fanciful, miko."

Brightening and smiling widely, Kagome pushed up on tip-toe. Guiding his mouth down with palms cradling his striped cheeks, she kissed him again, pouring every powerful emotion left unsaid into it.

End

#sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #skw2021 #sesskagweek2021 #skw2021d1

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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years

Text

Speak Easy Part 18

Dabi x Reader, Bakugo x Reader

Words : 4276

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

**********************************************************************

It’d been a little over a week since Shoto promised to go to the doctor with you and you were getting a little nervous. At first you were just waiting for the doctors to get settled in, but then Shoto was busy helping get things up and running and evacuating people to the bunker. Now you’ve just been chickening out.

Your period was a few days late, which wouldn’t be concerning if it weren’t for your current circumstance.

You woke up this morning and made a cup of coffee before taking Bravo out for a stroll around the bunker. He loved being able to run around and meet new people. He was a hit with the kids. They loved playing with him almost as much as he loved playing with them. The only downside was, there was only two places in the entire massive bunker that he could go to the bathroom. The farm and a small animal relief area near where the trash is dumped.

Needless to say, neither smelled great, but the farm was considerably better. So here you were, sitting on a small platform that oversees the crops with a cup of coffee and a book. Bravo sitting next to you keeping watch.

It was always a little chilly down here, which you honestly preferred. It just meant you could wear lots of hoodies. The more you could hide your body the better. Ever since leaving Dabi’s house you felt like you were always being watched. You felt so exposed and you just wanted to blend into the background.

Today you wore a new hoodie that Izuku had gotten you. It was probably one of the softest things you owned, and it was the prettiest shade of blue. The blue reminded you of a certain someone’s eyes… of the beautiful blue flames they were capable of creating… but then you’d shake the thought from your head and pull it closer around you.

You were enjoying your new freedom. Not that Dabi’s house had been a prison… but you hadn’t realized how much you missed doing things on your own. You had thought being alone would be hard, but you were thriving. It was never being alone that bothered you before, it had been his absence.

Against Katsuki’s wishes… Shoto had shown you the photos of what was left of Dabi’s car. And he hadn’t been exaggerating. You had almost passed out looking at how much blood soaked the driver seat and even the road around it.

You had been so lost lately. You didn’t know how you were supposed to feel. Your heart ached. You thought you had finally found your home. You had finally started to feel your pieces come back together. Now you felt like that would never happen. He took the last few pieces of your heart with him and you felt like you would never be whole again.

Dabi had been your comfort, your safety, your home. Now you were lost.

You hated that you felt this way. You should hate him. You should curse his fucking name. You shouldn’t be crying yourself to sleep over his death.

His death…

Was he dead? You weren’t convinced. It was too convenient, and there wasn’t a body. You wanted proof. Until then you’d go on believing he was still out there.

You closed the book you were reading. You had been on the same page for the past 10 minutes.

There was no way he wrecked his car like that. You had been in the car with him twice. Yes, he drove a little fast… but he wasn’t reckless. Either it was an elaborate cover up, or someone was after him. Or maybe… someone had been after you and he had gotten stuck in the middle as collateral damage.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

Shoto came and took a seat next to you. “I’d ask what’s on your mind, but I’m pretty sure I already know.”

“Am I that obvious?” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head on top of yours. “It’s normal. I’d actually be surprised if you weren’t torn up over it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I can’t stop worrying about him. I keep wondering where he is. If he’s okay. If there’s some grand explanation for his shitty behavior.” You shrugged. “I’m just finding it hard to grasp that the same man who held me during my panic attacks was also secretly planning to breed me… It just doesn’t add up.”

“Guilt does weird things to people.” Shoto’s hand found yours and gave it a squeeze. “I know he’s my brother, but I have no doubts about who knew him best. I only know a version of him. I only knew what he wanted me to.” He sighed, “It was obvious you meant a lot to him, and I could see him becoming more… I don’t know… human? For the first time in years he was showing emotions that weren’t rage. It would make sense if you were starting to make him question what side he was on.”

Your eyes narrowed, “So what? You think he did some shitty stuff and decided to help me… because he felt guilty about it? That doesn’t make any sense.” You pushed away from him to look him in the eyes. “Dabi only does what Dabi wants to do. That has been clear to me since day one. So what the fuck did he want out of this? None of it makes sense. Was I just a possession to him? Was I a bargaining chip? Was I just some broken pet that he got validation from nursing back to health? What?!”

You could feel your hysteria building and Bravo put his head in your lap in an attempt to calm you down. You took a few deep breaths. “He better fucking be alive… so I can kick his ass myself.”

Shoto chuckled, “Touya doesn’t stand a chance.”

His eyes looked distant and sad. You nudged his shoulder with your own, “Hey can I ask you something?”

He blinked away whatever far away memory he was thinking about, “I don’t see why not.”

“What was he like? Touya I mean… Before he became Dabi.”

Shoto’s lip turned up just slightly, “He was the best big brother I could have ever had. He was always there to help me when our dad was too rough with me. My dad tried to keep us separated… didn’t want me mingling with what he considered to be his biggest failure.” You flinched at the casual way he talked about the abuse they endured. “But Touya would sneak into my room at night. He taught me how to handle my burns and would bring me cold soba on bad days.” His eyes glassed over, “I was devasted when he died. Well… when I thought he died.”

“I blamed my dad, we all did. So, when he came out of hiding, it was like this enormous weight had lifted off of my shoulders. I hadn’t even realized I was carrying it around, but I had never truly gotten over his death.” He chuckled, “So I went looking for him. I didn’t care if he was Touya or Dabi, I just wanted him in my life again. I’d take what I could get. So, I settled for our don’t ask don’t tell relationship.”

You felt a tear that wasn’t yours hit your lap. Of course this would be hard on Shoto, he’s potentially lost his brother for the second time. “If it makes you feel any better… He admitted to me that he loved you.” You smirked, “Well actually he told me he used to hate you which contradicts your story quite a bit. But he said he always wondered if things would have been better for you if he stuck around.”

Shoto laughed, “Sounds like him. Trying to act like the tough guy who didn’t give a shit… Just like how he was with you. I can’t tell you how many times he called me when he was gone checking on you. Texting me every single time your vitals spiked. He would check the cameras and send me voice memos about how he was going to beat my ass if I didn’t keep my hands where he could see them while we were sparing. But then he would deny it when I asked what going on between the two of you.”

“Hey, come on, I have an idea.” You stood and walked over to the corner of the field behind a small tool shed. You picked up a massive rock and moved it so it was hidden from view. “Can you burn his name into it?”

Shoto eyes darkened, “You want to have a funeral? We don’t even know if he’s dead…”

You nodded, “You’re right we don’t… but I think it’ll make it easier. We can have a place to morn him in private. Weather we mourn his death… or the death of who he could have been.”

Shoto’s shoulder slumped and eventually he nodded. His hand heated up and with his finger he wrote on the rock, “R.I.P. TOUYA”

You both sat there for a while just staring at the rock. You felt too cold standing here in the shade of the tool shed. You gripped your hoodie closer to you and held back the tears that you desperately wanted to shed. You knew you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think of Touya. You thought about what he would have been like if he had gone to UA. If he had become a hero. If you had met him under better circumstances. Would the two of you still have ended up together? Without your mountains of combined trauma would you even be the same people?

“You ready? We should head out soon or we’ll be late for your appointment.”

You rubbed your eyes and sniffled, “Yeah… let’s get this over with.”

Bravo wasn’t allowed in the medical side of the bunker, so you made a quick detour to your room to drop him off. Shoto quietly following behind you. “So how are things with you and Bakugo?”

You groaned and rubbed your temples.

Shoto chuckled, “That good huh?”

“He’s been hovering over me like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces at the slightest inconvenience. I appreciate what he’s trying to do… but it’s just too much. I told him I needed space… and we had a fight. He hasn’t spoken to me in two days.”

Shoto whistled, “I never thought I’d see the day that the two of you had a real fight. Sure, you always bickered like an old married couple growing up. But on anything serious he always caved to your every wish.” He paused at your door, “Wait. So, are you the reason he’s been extra grumpy lately?”

You blushed, “I don’t know… Maybe?”

You gave Bravo an extra scratch behind his ear before closing the door. At that same moment you heard the door next door click shut. Your eyes snapped up to meet Katsuki’s. “Oh hey… I didn’t know you were back from the surface yet.”

“Got back early this morning… I was actually on my way to see you. You have a time to get an early lunch? I want to talk to you about something.”

You played with the ends of your hair, which was an immediate give away that you were nervous. “I actually have some plans with Shoto. But I’m free after that. Shouldn’t take too long though.”

His eyes narrowed at your nervous posture and you cursed how well he knew you. “Oh yeah? What are you guys up to? Maybe I’ll tag along.”

You began to stutter but thankfully Shoto interrupted, “Clingy isn’t a good look for you Bakugo. Like she said… it’s not going to take long. Just wait here and she’ll be back soon.”

You saw Katsuki bristle and decided to step in before he picked a fight with Shoto. You stepped over to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I just dropped Bravo off. He’s had some pretty bad separation anxiety lately so why don’t you go to my apartment and hang out with him while I’m gone. Make some coffee, pick out a movie or something. I’ll be back soon, and we can talk then.”

His posture softened as he looked you up and down. It was obvious to him that you were nervous. But he was trying his hardest to give you the space you wanted. He pulled you to him as he sighed, trapping you in his arms. “Okay fine. I’ll babysit the mutt. Can you do me a favor and bring back some migraine medication from the medical ward. My heads killing me.”

You nodded stiffly, hoping it was just a coincidence he needed something from the medical ward. “Not a problem. I have the weighted blanket you gave me on the couch if you want to take a nap while I’m gone. You look like you could use one.”

He squeezed you tighter to him. “I’ll be fine.” He leaned his head on top of yours. “I’ll be better once we stop fighting about stupid shit though.” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll see you when you get back.” He released you and looked to Shoto, “Try to behave. The two of you hanging out makes me nervous.”

Shoto chuckled, “Good. You should be nervous. If you don’t figure your shit out soon, I’ll be taking your best friend spot… Kacchan.”

You snorted as you pulled Shoto away. “Are you trying to get your ass kicked? You know only Izuku gets away with calling him that! Well… and me when he’s in a good mood. But even that’s pushing it.”

“Oh, he’ll get over it. He needs a reality check. He thinks the world revolves around him.” He led you down the hall. “He can be such a pain sometimes. But I will admit he’s so much easier to be around now than when we were in high school.” He bumped your shoulder, “In a way it’s thanks to you. As sad as it is, when you went missing, he matured. It was like out of nowhere he realized there were more important things in the world then him and his hero status.”

Something about talking about Katsuki’s emotional vulnerability while walking to the clinic to check if you were pregnant with Dabi’s child made you feel slimy. “Can we talk about something else. Literally anything else. How are you and Izuku doing?”

“Good… we settled into our room. It’s a nice enough room… but it’s right next to my dad’s room. Apparently he’s thought all this time that we were just roommates.” He threw his hands up and scoffed, “Honestly! Did he think we were both professional heroes, making tons of money, but couldn’t afford to live on our own?”

You giggled, “That sounds awkward. These walls aren’t exactly thick.”

“Oh believe me I know. And I don’t care. Poor Izuku though can’t even look my dad in the eye now without blushing.”

You laughed so hard you had to wipe away a tear. “Aw poor Izuku… He’s too innocent for this world.”

Shoto scoffed, “Innocent my ass. That man is a freak in—”

You held up a hand. “Stop, stop, stop! I don’t want to know. He is a pure innocent little muffin who used to braid my hair before workouts.”

“I thought Bakugo was the one who braided your hair? I can’t imagine him being okay with Izuku being that close to you.”

You laughed. “Oh he wasn’t at first. But mostly because Izuku was better than him at something. Kats liked to braid my hair in private while we watched TV.” You shook your head at the memory, “He actually got to be really good at it eventually.”

Shoto had succeeded in distracting you long enough to make the trip to the medical ward, but now that you were here the anxiety was creeping back in.

You paused before crossing the threshold. You knew it was important to find out once and for all if you were pregnant. But you were also enjoying living in ignorance. The fact that you didn’t know meant that you could live your life as normal. If you were pregnant… it would flip your entire world upside down. You would have a life you would be responsible for, a little human that would constantly remind you of the love that almost broke you.

If you weren’t pregnant then… you didn’t know how you would feel. Would you be relieved? Would you mourn?

Your hand found your flat stomach and clenched your shirt. You took a few steps further into the ward and was hit an overwhelming sterile smell. Your breathing hitched and your knees shook. It was too clean. It was too white. It reminded you too much of the lab.

Shoto’s hand took yours and gave it a soft tug. “Hey. It’s fine. You don’t have to do all of this. I can go in and request a pregnancy test and we can go back and do this in your room. Would that make you feel better?”

You shook your head, “Katsuki’s there…”

Shoto’s shoulders sagged, “At this point I think he’d be more upset at you hiding this from him. I’m not telling you how to live your life. I think you’ve earned the right to do whatever the fuck you want. But if it were me… I’d want as big of a support system as I could get…”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought about it. Did you want Katsuki to know? How would he react? What if you were pregnant? Would he be disgusted with you? Would he want to help? Your head was spiraling down a rabbit hole of what it and it was starting to make you dizzy.

“Hey, breathe! Just take a deep breath. Let’s get you out of here before you have a panic attack. Wait outside for me. I’ll get everything we need.

You pushed the wave of anxious nausea down and gave a shaky nod. “Okay… But remember to get some migraine medication for Ka—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember. Go sit down outside and try and focus on your breathing I’ll be right back.”

You made your way outside and immediately sat down and leaned your forehead on your knees. You needed to get these invasive thoughts under control. You thought about what Dabi used to do. He would sit with you and try and distract you by talking about random shit. You knew he’d be pissed if he knew his younger brother left you all alone during one of your episodes. The thought of him yelling at Shoto was almost enough to make you chuckle.

You took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds and started listing animals that start with the letter A. When you couldn’t think of any more you breathed out. Then you repeated the process with the letter B, then C. You had made it F when Shoto made his way back to you.

“Okay, so they gave me some weird looks. Which makes sense considering I am a gay man asking for pregnancy tests. But they didn’t ask too many questions. I have two tests, a bottle of water, some Tylenol, and a phone number for a doctor… you know, for if it’s positive.”

You took his outstretched hand and stood up. “Okay… let’s get this over with.”

Every step towards your room felt heavier than the last. You just wanted to curl up under your blanket and pretend none of this was happening.

You hesitated at your door for a few moments before remembering you were a tough bitch and barreled through it full of false confidence.

You expected to see Katsuki lounging on the couch watching something on the tiny TV. Instead you found him passed out with Bravo curled up next to him. The sight of it calmed your nerves.

“Hey Shoto, can you get some coffee going? I’m going to wake him up.” You tiptoed over to him and sat on the edge of the couch. “Hey…” You shook his shoulder. “Kats? Wake up. I need to tell you something…”

Katsuki grumbled and his arm snaked around you, pulling you down to his level. “Shhh, m’head hurts.”

You giggled “Hey stop I’m being serious… I need you to get up.”

One of his eyes cracked open. “What’s up you sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sighed, “I haven’t been crying, but I am… stressed…” He sat up and moved so you were sitting facing each other. He nodded urging you to go on. “So… The reason Dabi uh… locked me in his office was so he could go to the store to uh… buy a…. pregnancy test.”

Your eyes stared at your hands and you heard him suck in a breath. “Are you? …Pregnant I mean.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know… we got some tests from the medical ward today and I’m about to take them. I’m just… a little scared.”

A medicine bottle whistled through the air and smacked Katsuki in the face. “We got you your medicine too. You’re welcome.” Shoto was smirking over by the coffee maker.

Katsuki groaned as he stood up. “One of these days I’m gonna kick the shit out of you, IcyHot Bastard.”

He stretched and held a hand out to you. “Alright, come on. Let’s go piss on a stick.”

You felt a weight starting to lift from your shoulders. “Wait. So you’re not mad?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “Why would I be mad? I knew what the two of you were doing. It’s not like you cheated on me. As much as I wish we were, we aren’t together.” His thumb came up to brush a tear away that you didn’t even know had fallen. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily Y/N. You being pregnant wouldn’t change how I feel about you. I would even be willing to tell people it’s mine if it makes it easier for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

It was quite for a few moments, while you absorbed and processed this new development. He was surprisingly calm about all of this, and it was making it easier for you as well.

“God you’re whipped.” Shoto handed the pregnancy test to you but was smart enough to remain behind you so Katsuki couldn’t hit him.

You left the boys to bicker as you entered your tiny bathroom alone. You peed on both of the sticks and set a timer on Katsuki’s phone. The next three minutes were the longest three minutes of your life.

You paced as you tried to think of anything else. But your thoughts kept going back to that night when Dabi held you in his recliner after fucking you. He had asked about you having a baby. He had sounded so hopeful. His eyes so bright at the idea of you having a kid with him. Part of you couldn’t believe that was an act. He had seemed so sincere. You thought about how he would react if he knew you were taking a test right now.

The timer went off.

Shit.

Was your whole life about to change?

With shaky hands you picked up the first test. You held your breath as you looked to the second one to confirm it.

You opened the door with tears in your eyes.

“So, what’s it say? Am I going to be an uncle?”

You let out an audible sob. “I don’t know why I’m so upset right now.” You showed them the tests. “They’re both negative.”

Katsuki wrapped you in a hug and ran his fingers up and down your back. “It’s okay to be sad. Shoto made some coffee, I don’t have plans today. We can hang out here until you feel better.”

You cried into Katsuki’s chest as you watched some cheesy movie. He didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even know what to say if he thought it would help.

You were grieving a child you never had, and a love that was nothing but lies. You needed to let it out. You needed to grieve so you could move on. And this is how you do that.

By the time the credits rolled your eyes were dry and you nose stuffy. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something earlier…?”

Katsuki stiffened, “Yeah, but I think it can wait. You’ve already had a rough day.”

You shook your head, “No… I want to know. I’m just going to worry about it until you tell me. I’d rather you just rip the Band-Aid off.”

He nodded, “We got word that Dabi may have been seen by your old place. We aren’t sure it was him though. Toga had been previously spotted as well, so it’s more likely that it was her. But either way, it looks like the LOV is sniffing around.”

“W—What makes you think it was Toga?”

He cleared his throat, “We have an informant working in the LOV and he told us the last thing he heard about Dabi was that Shigaraki had sent a team to collect him… but when they came back they were bloody and he wasn’t with them.”

You sighed, “Of course he wasn’t.”

*************

*The Laws* 1. No fucking shrugging 2. No drugs 3. No saying sorry for something that isn’t your fault 4.We work on communication every day 5. Wake up whenever the hell you want 6. No locked doors 7. We eat three full meals a day 8. No means no, no negotiations 9. We work on exercise every day 10. Ice cream must be kept in stock at all times 11. Accept help when it is offered 12. No lying 13. I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.

************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi @sarahschance @babayaga67@starenemy

#bakugo katsuki imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #dabi my hero academia #dabi imagine #dabi #yandere dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi bnha #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #my hero academia

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

Text

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 1

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 3.3k chapters: 1/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. Open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

Cleaning rich people’s vacation homes hadn’t been your dream job growing up. You had such high hopes when you were a kid, well into your teens, of becoming a zoologist. It had started off like most kid’s dreams—in kindergarten you wanted to be a veterinarian. That grew into wanting to become a herpetologist, but then you wondered, why limit yourself? As a zoologist you could be around tons and tons of animals, studying their behaviors and ecological impacts. It was about half way past your fourteenth birthday that you realized none of your dreams mattered.

You woke in the middle of the night to a crippling pain in your stomach, an unbearable heat boiling under your flesh. You must’ve been screaming, because your parents burst in frantically—only to stop dead upon stepping past the threshold. At the time you had no idea why, but it had been shock. Omegas were rare nowadays, more and more betas were being born while the number of omegas dropped. It was a point on contention; betas could breed with alphas, rendering the omega almost obsolete but alphas, especially ones with packs, wanted omegas.

Personally, you figured that evolution had decided to take things into its’ own hands. Everything about omegas spat in the face of adaption; they were small and delicate, hardwired to obey alpha commands even to their own detriment, experienced a full weeks’ worth of being completely and utterly incapable of survival on their own—

Well, unless one acquired (through whatever means necessary) methods to prevent it that one. Heats, a homegrown threat guaranteed to commit acts of violence at least twice a year. By the time your first had worn off, your parents had already jumped into action. They had three different packs bidding on you. Your mother had been bubbling with glee, talking about how wonderful it was that she had produced an omega when she herself was a beta. Your very existence was about to rocket them into both fame and fortune. So, you ran away. That same night.

It had been shockingly easy to locate illegal suppressants. They taught all about them in school, how they were horrible and taxing on an omega’s physiology. Suppressants masked an omega’s scent, prevented their heats, and (in your opinion) were the best invention of the twenty first century. You couldn’t have given a flying fuck about what negative impacts they might’ve had on your body—death would be a reprieve. Unfortunately you’d yet to have any of the widely touted negative effects (effects that you were pretty sure were made up to keep omegas afraid and compliant) and so you found yourself cleaning rich people’s vacation homes just over the Canadian border.

You’d been living out of your car since you first bought it at sixteen, for five hundred dollars. You gave a creepy beta a blowjob to get your license forged. It was the best investment you’d ever made (not that you had the opportunity to make many) and the clunker was still getting you from point A to point B and that’s all you needed. You had to move constantly, staying in one place too long meant people started to notice you, especially in the small towns you frequented in Ontario. But there was so much forest surrounding you that every once in a while you could just drop off the face of the earth, camping so deep in the woods no one would stumble across you. It made staying anonymous so much easier.

That was actually the current plan, after you finished cleaning this last massive cabin; to abscond into the woods for a while, until you’ve faded from everyone’s memory. You won’t return to this town for at least a year. You’ll spark recognition when you return, but not enough for anyone to consider you more than an outsider in their close-knit community. The kind woman who lets you work for her cleaning company so sporadically will remember you when you ring her, the only person particularly thrilled to hear you’re back for a few months.

You do an excellent job and you do it fast— you can thoroughly and perfectly clean a 6 bedroom mansion by yourself in less than 10 hours and you were paid under the table so you didn’t require overtime, which Mrs. Hunt loved (there was no tax to be taken from an unreported cash payment though, so it was a fair trade in your opinion). You would work yourself to the bone, 10 hours a day everyday there was work available for at least three months and then dip without any expectations until the next time you returned, when she was gushing over the amazing reviews your work had gotten the last time you were around.

It was symbiotic existence—you were paid well for your efforts, more than enough to sustain living out of your car for months at a time, and your performance drove her online reviews into the 4.9 stars range and made it feasible for her to raise her prices. Mrs. Hunt didn’t ask any questions either, even when you requested to only work alone and couldn’t provide any identification beyond a driver’s license.

You were finishing up the kitchen in what was definitely one of the nicest places you’d ever cleaned when your phone went off in your back pocket. It made your skin prickle. Very few people had your number and you couldn’t think of a single reason they’d ring you instead of texting unless something was wrong. You propped the mop against your shoulder and dug out the phone, frowning at Mrs. Hunt’s name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Oh sweetie, I’m so glad I got a hold of you! How are you doing?”

“I’m well, Mrs. Hunt,” you answered, your voice coming out semi-robotically as you strained not to sound panicked while continuing the conversation like a normal fucking person, “I’m just about done here, I was finishing the dry mop in the kitchen when you called and then all I need to do is pack up.”

“Oh perfect! I was calling because the owner just rang me, apparently some of his packmates will be arriving a bit earlier than anticipated—potentially within the next hour. Something about someone getting caught up at work, I’ll spare you the details. But if you’re almost done then you’ll probably be gone by the time they arrive.”

“Certainly Mrs. Hunt,” you’d immediately started frantically dry mopping the moment the words ‘within the next hour’ escaped the woman’s mouth, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder. “I’ll be gone in the next few minutes.”

“Now even if you aren’t its okay,” the concern in her voice meant that your own had betrayed you, waivered when you responded without your knowledge. “I always warn the owners that if they arrive before the scheduled time that there’s a possibility the house won’t be done and/or there might be people actively working in the house. You won’t get in any trouble, okay?”

“R-Right, thank you ma’am,” you swallowed heavily, finishing the last swipe across the tile in the kitchen and hustling back into the foyer. “I really won’t be but a minute though. I always keep all of my equipment put away and together if I’m not using it, so I really just need to pack up the mop.”

Which you’d already shoved into the rolling cart you picked up each morning that held all of your cleaning supplies provided by the company.

“Don’t forget your bucket too!” Mrs. Hunt sounded smiley again, “I’ll leave the key under the mat so you can stow your cart tonight. Have a good one swee—.”

“You too!” You might’ve hung up a touch too soon to be considered polite, shoving the phone back into your pocket and running into the kitchen. There was no time to dwell on manners.

The mop bucket was sitting on the counter, already washed and dried and waiting to be put away. You’d started keeping your things completely put away at all times the same day you’d been accosted by a homeowner who arrived home earlier than expected while you were still trying to pack up. You’d tried to put your notice in that night, a couple of years ago now, but Mrs. Hunt begged you not to—promised it would never happen again. This must’ve been her best attempt at preventing it. At least you had already planned to leave town tonight anyway.

You nearly sprinted back to the cart, haphazardly tossing the stupid bucket on top and wheeling it towards the huge front doors. You’d just stopped to reach around and grab the handle when the knob turned and the left door was pushed open, nearly hitting your cart.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he was a beta, curly haired and dark eyed with pale skin, wearing a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Did I knock anything over?”

“N-No, sir,” you pulled the cart back a few steps, nearly trembling with the effort it took not to blast right past him, especially when you noticed him carefully scenting the air. "The house is all clean, I was j-just leaving.”

“Thank you, for getting everything clean for us. We don’t get to come out here as often as we like, I’m sure the place collected a lot of dust in our absence,” he smiled, looking both parts shy and calculating to your well trained eye— and you had no time for such consideration.

“Not too much, h-have a nice night!” You could feel your pulse racing and that was bad. Even the good suppressants, the ones that most of your money went to, had difficulty completely masking the scent of panicking omega.

“Did you use bleach?” The question caught you off guard and you almost jumped when he put a hand on your cart, glancing through the array of chemicals.

“Y-Yes, in the bathrooms. I wasn’t informed of any sensitivities—”

“Nothing a little fresh air won’t take care of,” you wanted him to stop looking at you like that, like there was some pale flash of recognition behind his eyes. “Would you go open the windows in the bathrooms upstairs? I’m afraid my nose is pretty sensitive, several of my packmates are similar.”

You did not like that his nose was especially sensitive and you hated that his packmates were similarly afflicted. It felt like getting punched in the face with a fight or flight instinct, your brain immediately demanded that you leave the cart and run past him—fuck the cart, fuck the job, you could find something else.

“Oh, and do you have the key to the front doors? I might as well get them from you now instead of us having to go down to the office tomorrow.” Your hand immediately dove into your pocket, yanking out the single key and dropping it in his palm. “Thanks— and the windows? Sorry, I just can’t go up there until it’s aired out.”

He wasn’t a huge man but the way he filled the doorway made you second guess trying to run past him, even if he was greying at the temples and looking a little rumpled. It was strange, you wouldn’t usually have such an intense reaction to a beta, but something about him was vaguely unsettling. So instead of trying to make a run for it, you turned on your heel and forced yourself to calmly walk up the stairs. There were four massive bedrooms in the cabin, each with its own bathroom and you’d need to go through and open the windows for the three bathrooms that had them. It meant darting into huge bedrooms, dodging expensive furniture and knickknacks and trying not to dirty the freshly mopped and swept hardwood floors in the process.

It took about five minutes but you felt like you’d run a marathon, your heart was pounding and there was sweat at the nape of your neck. All you wanted was out of the stupid fucking house, immediately. You dashed down the stairs and turned the corner, seeing your cart right where you left it. The door was still open too, but the beta was no where to be seen. You immediately darted forward, grabbing the cart tightly and beginning to push it past the threshold—

You were stopped in your tracks at the sight of two unnecessarily broad alphas. Both were tall, the white man standing just an inch or so taller, with a full beard and blond hair. The black alpha had facial hair too, a cleanly edged goatee to match a faded cut. Both were incredibly attractive and putting off waves of pheromones, to the point that your head floated for a moment. Your lips clamped shut on a whine, instinct trying to push through and alert the two powerful alphas of your presence. Instead you ducked your head and continued out the door.

“Hi there, sweetheart.” Your gaze snapped up, immediately locking with a pair of dark brown eyes. “You the housekeeper?”

“Yes sir,” you answered quietly, stopping short in front of them when neither moved out of your way. “Sorry to have been here so late. Have a good evening.”

Both were still smiling, still pointedly not moving.

“My name’s Steve, that’s Sam,” the blond’s nose twitched, just slightly, and you realized he was very discretely scenting the air. “Nice to meet you. Do you live in town?”

“N-No, please excuse me,” you nudged the cart forward just an inch but they still didn’t budge and panic began coursing through your blood with renewed vigor, “excuse m—”

“Your scent is… confusing,” Steve’s head tilted to the side, “I don’t mean to be crass, of course, but I couldn’t help but notice.”

“It’s always been this way,” the response was automatic and your brain began shutting down all unnecessary functions; you were about to have to run and hope your omega physiology would make you faster than them.

“You smell almost like an omega,” he continued, both hands coming to rest on his hips, emphasizing the width of his shoulders. “But not quite?”

“I’m a beta.”

“Are you sweetheart?” Sam’s voice was a rumble, his head tilted to the side while his dark eyes burned holes into your skin.

The tone an alpha used with naughty omegas was deliberate and tightly controlled, the same as a command or a purr or a growl. It was on purpose, an attempt to nicely draw out the correct response. He wanted you to admit you were an omega, to tell them the truth of your own volition. The fact that your hindbrain desperately wanted to comply was a completely different issue—one you didn’t have time to address right now.

“Positive,” you breathed, clenching your fists tightly around the handles of the cart for just a second before deciding to leave it behind; you’d never be coming back here, there was no reason to worry about preserving your job.

Your eyes were quick and indefinitely perceptive. Being an omega was one step up from being a prey species, it came with inherent instincts that made you especially good at predicting behaviors. After all, an omega was only as good as their ability to please and soothe packmates. One of the single upsides to being an omega was that you were fast though—fast enough to outrun most alphas. And you only needed to go about a hundred and fifty feet, once you were in your car you could certainly get away. So the second you realized the pair was about to shift, moving to face each other more than you, you darted around the cart and dodged to the left.

It wasn’t your fault, honestly. There was no way you could’ve known you weren’t dealing with normal alphas. The blond was so fast that he almost moved between blinks—one moment he was still, the next he’d wrapped his arms around you and tugged you back into his chest. His arms were like steel, one wrapped around your torso to keep your arms pinned to your sides while the other carefully held your chin. Your hindbrain was screaming now, submit, submit, make alpha happy and you bit down on your tongue to hold in the whimpers, the omega sounds your throat was trying to produce.

“Shhh, shh, calm down,” it was half a tone away from being a purr and you continued to squirm while you still could—an alpha command was coming, you could feel it in your bones.

“Let Steve smell you,” Sam was rumbling instead of talking again, a similar half purr to how Steve had started speaking. "Everything’s okay, omega.”

You felt a nose nudge down your neck, towards your scent gland and you bared your teeth at the man in front of you. “I’m not an omega!”

“You smell like omega,” Steve’s breath ghosted over your skin and you fought a shiver. "Sort of. It’s buried, under… beta… sour beta?”

“What sort of suppressants are you on, sweetie?” You startled as the beta from earlier emerged from the house, wiping his hands on a dish towel absently. "Are you cutting them with anything? Heroin, or coke? It’s okay, you just need to tell me.”

“Tell Bruce sweetheart,” Sam coaxed, automatically moving to roll up the sleeves of your shirt, evidently looking for track marks. "Where do you get them?”

“I’m not on suppressants!” Your voice was almost a shriek at this point, desperately imitating the behavior of an angry beta rather than a terrified omega. “I’m a beta! Get off of me!”

“Okay, okay, here then,” Steve’s arm around your torso tightened, the one on your chin beginning to work its way down towards your jeans. "There’s only way one to tell for sure.”

Shock and fear and humiliation; an array of emotions swarmed through your body as his hand popped the button but those were the three you could identify and you immediately started thrashing your legs—he was going to check if you had an omega ridge and then everything would be over. It was a defining physical characteristic that couldn’t be passed off as anything other than what it was: a boney protrusion meant to catch on an alpha’s knot so they could be locked in place. In females it was found in the vagina, prominently featured directly before the g-spot so a knot would cause persisting pleasure. For males it was similarly positioned next to the prostate.

“Calm down, calm down!” Sam crooned, hands coming up to cup your face as while Steve’s slithered down the front of your jeans and into your panties. "It’s okay sweetheart, no matter what. Whatever Steve finds, you’re okay. You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”

The thrashing was doing nothing but tiring you out, you’d already been intensively cleaning for the past 9 hours without a break and it certainly wasn’t dissuading the hand slithering between your folds. You bit down on your tongue harder, until you drew blood to prevent the whimpers—you couldn’t make that stupid sound, you’d never make that stupid, pathetic, whiney noise, you couldn’t. Not even when a long, thick finger penetrated and sunk knuckle deep. Not even when the pad of said finger brushed your g-spot before hooking onto the ridge, tugging gently in a way that would’ve caused blinding pleasure had you not grounded yourself with the pain of biting your tongue.

“There it is,” Steve’s voice was soft, finger carefully running the length of the ridge. "A nice deep one too.”

“How long have you been taking suppressants?” Bruce prodded quietly, coming to stand next to Sam. “I need to know what sort of damage we’re looking at.”

When you didn’t respond Sam sighed, fingers brushing gently over your chin as he directed you to face him. "Please don’t make us use an alpha command, sweetheart. We just wanna take care of you. Tell Bruce how long you’ve been on suppressants, please.”

You regarded the handsome alpha for several short moments before spitting a mouthful of blood directly into his face.

content warnings: assault, noncon vaginal fingering

edited 7/9/21 - still on hiatus

#avengers x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #tony stark x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #clint barton x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!thor #dark!bucky barnes #dark!tony stark #dark!natasha romanoff #wow i give up its too many #posies chapter 1 #will reblog w tags in just a sec

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sunshineandcybertronians · 3 years

Text

It’s Nice to Have a Friend - (Secret Solenoid) TFP Starscream x reader

Word count: 5,599

Warnings: none

A/n: This is my Secret Solenoid gift to @sheabeeprime. This ended up way longer than I meant it to be. The ideas for what I could do just kept piling up and I decided to do all of them. And in true Scarlet fashion, I named this after a Taylor Swift song.

The view was amazing from where you sat on the edge of a cliff. Staring at the amazing view ahead of you. The wind in your face and hair. Just you, your thoughts, and the giant robot on your left.

Yeah, you honestly had no idea why Starscream decided to sit with you. And no idea why he always came to your home to pick you up when he was hunting for energon. Maybe he just needed company? Whatever the reason, an opportunity like this was too cool to pass down. So you tagged along whenever you were free. Which sometimes meant having to tell him you were busy or why you weren’t home when he came last. Though it was amazing how he would avoid being seen.

You didn’t know much about him. All you knew was that he was grumpy, had a huge ego, and his ex co-workers sucked.

You bit your lip. Today was the only chance for you to ask this. You pushed a strand of hair that flew in your face.

His helm faced forward, but his optics were on you. “What is it, human?”

“Hmmm?” You looked up at him as innocently as you could manage.

“’I know you were going to ask me something. Just ask me and get it over with.”

“Well,” you began, “There’s this parade going on…”

“And?” he raised one of his large eyebrows.

“It’s celebrating all the different countries in the world.”

“So?”

“I was thinking we could go?” You shrugged and gave a strained smile.

“No.” He immediately shot down the idea.

“But you could learn all about different human cultures.”

“Why would I want to learn about other humans anyway?”

“Wouldn’t simply knowing those kinds of things get you ahead of, and make you more knowledgeable than, the Decepticons?” you asked nonchalantly.

“Hah! You think saying that will make me go?” A look of amused triumph was on his face, but you could see the metaphorical cogs turning in his helm. He soon let out an angry and reluctant hum. “But I suppose I could take some of my precious time to come to your… ‘celebration of opposing humans’.” He waved his servo.

You let out a laugh. “We aren’t enemies or any like that just because we’re from other countries. Yeah, there can be some wars, but we’re mostly allies.”

Starscream gave you a perplexed look with his head tilted. Eventually, he just huffed and turned away, mumbling, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

You examined him, then shrugged. “Okay. But whether or not it makes sense to you, I’m honored you’ll bestow your presence upon the parade.”

He considered your words and, once he processed that it was praise, he puffed out his chassis with his helm held high.

There was a bit of trial and error in figuring out how to get there. You didn’t have exact coordinates and Starscream didn’t know where it was. Finally, you both decided on a method. You would give him directions while looking at a map on your phone. Once you steer him in the general area, you should be able to see the parade from the air. Upon this decision, Starscream jumped off the cliff to perform a flawless, midair transformation. He soared back up to meet you, showing off a few spins, and opened the cockpit for you to get in.

You eagerly got in and he took off. He shot through the sky like a comet, reaching up through a puffy white cloud, which resulted in a huge smile on your face. There was something amazing about being that high above the ground. Clouds stretching out made it feel like a new, hidden world.

“Which way?”

“Oh, right!”

It was strange how people appeared so small from up above. The whole event would probably have seemed grander from the ground, but you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to see it from the air. Especially with a giant robot.

“Wow. Look at it,” you commented. Suddenly, the rule of ‘if I can see you, you can see me’ came to mind. “Uh, are they going to find it suspicious that a jet is just floating here?”

“You tell me.”

You thought for only a second. “Definitely.”

Starscream maneuvered himself into a cloud, enclosing around him as though it were just a hologram. The nose poked out and there was a thin layer of cloud over the glass off the cockpit.

“You can still see, right?” he inquired.

“Yep. Thanks.”

You leaned back comfortably. The view was amazing. However the wonder slowly wore off and the silence began pricking at you. You almost wished for him to start complaining, or asking you questions, or for a radio. Though you doubted that he would enjoy human music. Or would he? Maybe you should try introducing some to him, but which genre?

“So what’s going on?” Starscream’s question brought you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, well people representing each country are walking in their group with a flag of that country. Like Italy, over there. They invented pizza!” You sat straight and pointed.

“What now?”

“Pizza, it’s a type of food that has cheese and tomato sauce an-“

“Nevermind. I don’t want to hear about the things you fleshies consume.” You thought you felt his alt mode shudder.

“Hey, if you were human, you would like it too,” you said. You fought the feeling of being offended that was taking over your thoughts.

“Then thank Primus I’m not.”

“Whatever.” You crossed your arms and slouched back. “… But we do need to eat to survive you know.”

He hummed in reluctant consideration. “I suppose you’re right.”

Some time passed as you continued to sit there. Occasionally you would comment on a ‘country’ that was passing by. Sometimes he would ask about one. It was surprising how much your mind blanked out when you tried to talk about a country. You would have assumed that you wouldn’t have this problem considering you grew up on Earth.

A white flag with a circle and black lines on the corners caught your eye. You couldn't see the details from so far away, but you knew the circle was a blue and red yin yang. "Oh! That's the flag for South Korea."

"South? That sounds more like a location than a faction."

"Faction? What? Well, yes, it's a location. A location with its own government and own way of doing things. Like how you're a cybertronian. Because you're from Cybertron? Were you thinking about it like that? Factions?"

He hovered slightly higher then fell back into place. "How was I supposed to know? Cybertron had one government and leader. Much simpler."

"Hmmm." You considered the thought. "That's either really nice or there was a lot of corruption."

"Oh, you bet there was corruption. But does that mean there's a north, whatever it's called?"

"Korea. And yes, there's a North Korea. It split into north and south a while ago. North Korea has a dictator and isn't a place you want to go."

“What kinds of governments does each of these ‘countries’ have?” He asked.

“Well, the USA is a Democratic Republic. And there’s also socialism in some places, and at some point I think Russia was communist? Why can’t I remember anything?” You cursed yourself.

“Remind me why there isn’t one large government and leaders over the whole Earth?”

“That would be hard to do. A lot of people just wouldn’t agree to that. One of the reasons being that people want their own way of doing things. Since all of these countries formed on their own, having them all agree on giving up their own leadership to have a universal government is nearly impossible. There will always be someone who disagrees on how to run things.”

“It would be easier if someone just conquered the Earth.”

“You think people haven’t tried? There’ve been quite a bit of attempts, like Napoleon, but they all failed in the end. It’s a big place and people fight back.”

Another silence fell upon you both. You bit your lip as you scanned over the parade again.

"There's Japan. They have anime," you said.

Starscream finally lost his patience. “I’m not learning anything of use here! I’m just sitting here watching humans walk! The most informative bit was what you told me about North Kaon!"

"North Korea."

"Whatever it was! You expect me to remember all of these names?”

“Well, at least you can get an idea of what each country is like.”

“Admit it, you just told me to go because you wanted to come.”

“Maybe,” your voice rose an octave higher.

He scoffed.

“But,” you added, sitting up, “I did genuinely want to see it with you and show you a little more of Earth.”

“Why would I want to stay here even longer?!”

“I didn’t say that.” You looked at the gauges softly as if it were his face.

“Ah,” there was a nervous stutter present in his voice, “right.”

“Why did you come to Earth if you hate it so much?”

“It’s one of the last locations where we can find even scraps of energon. And you’ve come along to aid me enough times to know it’s important,” he said.

“It’s one of the only things you do.” You recollected everytime you were with him.

“Because ever since leaving the Decepticons ranks, I no longer have access to our storage or equipment to effectively find it. But I promise you, if it weren’t for Cybertron becoming a desert wasteland during the war, I would have never come to this mud ball.”

“Well. Even if you really wanna get back to cybertron, I’m glad I met you. And that I got to experience your awesome flying skills.” You tugged on a strand of your hair and ran your fingers through it.

There was a brief silence.

“I mean, of course you would… How much longer did you want to see the parade?”

“Maybe a half an hour.”

“Hmmm. I’m going to be sore after hovering in the same spot for so long.”

“I could always rub your wings later if you want,” you offered.

“And let your grubby, little, fleshie hands on my magnificent wings? I think not.”

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “It was just an idea.”

For a few more moments, neither of you said anything.

“Would you like to see a demonstration of my aerobatic skills later?”

“Actually, I would.”

A comfortable pause fell upon you.

“…Would you like to go down there?” he offered. He tipped his nose ever-so-slightly to the ground.

“Nah.” You leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I like it up here with you.”

It had been two months and six days since you last saw him.

Yes, you were counting and had no idea why. Maybe he finally got tired of your fleshie self and left. Maybe you should have seen it coming with how much he disliked humans. Maybe you annoyed him so much that he decided to never see you again without a word.

Yet, when you truly thought about it, it didn’t make sense. He seemed to enjoy being with you, even if he never showed it outright. He was always the one who decided to bring you along when hunting for energon. Even when he was a giant robot, and clearly had some sort of prejudice against humans, it felt as though he still treated you as an equal to some degree.

But maybe he truly did get tired of you.

You stood by your window. The sun had dipped below the horizon and the last ghosts of light had faded away into darkness. You stood in your sweat pants and baggy t-shirt. Your hair was brushed and you were ready to relax. A warm cup of hot chocolate was in your hands, the warmth seeping into your skin. You stared into the cup, thinking of nothing in particular when you blinked at a sudden light.

Your eyes instinctively followed the light. Outside the window, hovering just above the ground, was a large, greenish blue, swirling vortex. You stepped back, but promptly leaned closer for a better look. It didn’t seem to be pulling anything into it. It seemed gentle, yet powerful. You would have found it beautiful if your mind weren’t preoccupied with confusion.

Something seemed to appear inside of it. It was tall, and metal and--!

You nearly dropped your glass mug. After placing it safely to the side, you grabbed a jacket and rushed out the door. You raced to where you saw the portal as fast as your feet would carry you. It was still there when you reached it. Starscream held a device in his hands and his red optics searched the area, as if looking for something.

“Starscream!” You ran up to him, nearly in tears. “Where were you? You’ve been gone forever!”

His optics avoided your eyes. “Well, I…” His mouth pushed into a thin frown. “I lost my T-cog.”

“You’re what now?”

“T-cog! It’s what allows cybertronians to transform.”

Your current expression dropped as it finally dawned on you. The reason he had suddenly disappeared. Then you remembered that there were other people nearby.

“Why don’t we go back through your portal thing and talk about it there?” You began to jog into the portal.

“Ground bridge.”

“Whatever it is.”

You ran while he walked in. The fact that the ground seemed to be made of swirling energy, though it felt completely solid, messed you up. You being smaller didn’t help either. You were running and still falling behind. After a half a minute, Starscream turned around to pick you up and carry you through.

A flash filled your vision and you had to blink several times to adjust to the dark, new area. The walls, ceiling, and floor were made entirely of metal. The only light source came from a dim glow from an foreign, alien screen. It was clear from the dust that no one had been there in a long time. The scale was so large that you felt confident that this was something cybertronians built.

The portal behind you shrunk until it vanished. Starscream lowered you down onto the ground. As soon as your feet hit the floor, you dashed to Starscream’s foot to give him the biggest hug you could.

“I missed you,” you mumbled. Of course, he might have not heard it if it weren’t for nearly every surface being made of metal, causing an echo.

His posture went rigid. He began to reach down to pat your head, then pulled his hand away. He stayed like that without moving a servo the whole time you hugged him.

“Ah… Me too.”

You let go. The cold of the living metal still lingered on you.

“Where have you been? How did…?” You stared up at him.

“I came across some other humans,” he began as he walked over for something to sit on. He helped you up onto it and you sat next to him. “I tried to asist them in building a cybertronian. I believed that they would allow me to keep energon I allowed them to find.” He stared at the floor the entire time.

Your eyes stayed locked on his glowing optics. “Build a cybertronian? Wait, if that was what happened, how did you lose your T thing?”

“I-They needed a t-cog in order to build a cybertronian. The one they already acquired was lost and they decided to take mine instead.” He almost seemed to curl up at the last words.

This settled on your mind like a ton of bricks. You didn’t say a word. Suddenly the room felt very heavy. The silence was like a suffocating blanket that you couldn’t seem to push off. You swallowed.

“They took… it? But, you could have fought them off easi-“

“They shot me with some sort of stun mechanism then proceeded to rip me open to take it!” His talons clenched into fists before him.

Once again, you couldn’t speak.

“Why is it that the first humans I meet, other than you, are no better than the Decepticons?”

“… Because some people can just be like that. Just like humans have potential for both good and harm, it seems like cybertronians are the same in that way.” You stared at the ground. “So… You can’t transform anymore?”

“No.”

“And that’s why you couldn’t fly back to me?”

“Not until I found the Harbinger and a portable ground bridge.”

You nodded. You pulled your legs to your chest and stared off into nothing. “That must stink. Not being able to fly.”

“It’s been terrible! How do humans survive like this?” He lifted his fists to his face. His eyebrows, or whatever they were called, dug into his optics.

You shrugged. “We’re just used to it.”

The metaphorical blanket came back onto you, but somewhat more comfortably. Somewhat. You both continued to sit.

“… Are you upset about my not being able to transform?” Starscream cut through the silence. Almost so softly that you could hardly believe he was the one who said it.

“Huh? Well, yes,” you let go of your legs, “because you’re upset. I know how much you love flying!”

“But what about you?”

“Me?” You pointed to yourself.

“Yes!”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“How do you feel about me not being able to transform?!” He stood up and spun on his heels to face you. His wings stuck up on point.

“Well,” you thought for a second, “I did enjoy flying, but it honestly doesn’t matter too much to me if you can turn into a jet or not. I’m just happy you came back.”

“Oh.” The frustrated expression fell from his face and he looked away. In any direction except at you.

“What’s wrong?” You straightened your back as if it would help you see what was up.

“Nothing, I think. I had simply thought that you only liked me because of my flight capabilities.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because Megatron only kept me alive because I was useful? It was always like that on Cybertron, and with those other humans. Once I become useless, I’m tossed away.”

You felt your heart twisted and your blood boiling. “I hate people who are like that. Forget them. They aren’t worth your time. I’m glad their out of your life.” You stood up. “And to me, as long as we get to hang out, I’m good.”

Starscream tilted his head. “You truly don’t make any sense.”

You shrugged. “The best people in life are free.”

“Huh?”

“People who don’t expect anything in return,” you elaborated. “They care and love you unconditionally.”

“I don’t believe anyone like that exists.”

“They exist. And so do I.” You confidently stared up at him.

His gaze darted between you and away from you. He took a few steps back, as if you were a mysterious creature that could become hostile or blow up any second. Eventually, he gave in to a beautiful, natural smile. And the room suddenly seemed brighter.

“So, Starscream, I was thinking…” You walked into the room.

“If it’s anything about making a giant s’more again, I’m not interested.”

“No.”

Starscream had been feeling down, pun not intended, about losing his t-cog. You had cleared out two days in your schedule to have a sleepover with him. He had surprised you when you jokingly offered for him to brush your hair and he accepted. He also tried to braid it when you taught him how. It was surprisingly well done, considering the size of his talons, but still sloppy. You had to remind him that he wasn’t a failure at braiding. While laying in your sleeping bag and bundle of blankets you brought for the occasion, an idea came to you.

“I was thinking,” you continued, “that since you’ve been down about not being able to,” Starscream gave you the stink eye, “you know. So I decided it would be fun to do something similar to that one day with the parade.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I can’t fly you to another one.”

“No, not that. I mean that there’s this scout group doing a world presentation or whatever near where I live. They’re going to have cardboard stands set up for each country they researched about.”

“I really don’t think you’ve thought this through,” Starscream sighed, “I do not think these, or any, humans would react well to seeing a cybertronian.”

“I’ve already figured that out!” You bounced on your toes. “I’ll be carrying a camera that will stream video to you over here. That way you can see it without having to be there! And I have some earbuds so I can start a call with you and be able to hear and answer back if you have any questions.”

“Will the humans be suspicious about you speaking to no one?”

“Nope! They’ll just assume I’m on a call with someone, which technically isn’t wrong. So what do you say?”

“Okay. So you can still see the video feed, right?” you asked while readjusting the camera on your hat.

“Yes, now stop shaking around!” Starscream’s voice came through your earbud. You swore that you would go deaf if this lasted too long.

“Okay,” you mumbled.

The sky was overcast. You walked into the building along with families that had come to see the scouts’ projects. There were tons of tables and three paneled boards lined up. People wandered around. They would stop to read, then turn and walk to the next one that caught their eye. It was clear which groups were family because they would greatly compliment the child’s work.

You figured you needed to start somewhere. It was a stange feeling to be there when you didn’t know anyone, even if the event was open to the public.

“Are we just going to stare?”

This snapped you out of your daze. You blinked for a second. Right, you weren’t alone. You had Starscream.

“Right,” you said and stepped forward.

You walked along the rows, glancing over them until one caught your eye. “France,” you said while pointing to the printed out flag, making sure your finger could be seen by the camera. “It’s in Europe. The capital is Paris. The population is 66 million.” You read off of it. You walked over to another. “Germany. It’s also in Europe. You know, maybe this whole row is European countries. Anyway, capital’s Berlin. Population is 83 million. Their currency is euros.”

“Ironic how these give more information than you did that other day.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes. Ironic.” You walked a few more steps and stopped. “Some place named Estonia. The flag looks cool.”

“It’s three lines of color, like the other ones.”

“I like the colors.”

“There’s a lot of writing and pictures on each report,” Starscream commented. “Did each of these children research, find the information, and organize it in a presentable way?”

“Yes?” your voice came out as more of a question.

“Impressive.”

You smiled. “Some kids don’t do scouts, but they end up doing things similar with science fairs in school. They’ll do experiments or research, and they they have to make a presentation about it, like a vinegar volcano.”

“A volcano?!”

“No, it can’t do anything dangerous.”

“Then what’s the point? I wouldn’t call that science.”

“It’s simple science that kids are able to do. You know, since they’re kids?”

You noticed one of the parents staring at you and you gave an apologetic look while moving your hair to point at your earbud. You continued walking and eyeing some of the posters to read to Starscream. You had gotten to the Asia section and did your best to pick out something to show him.

“And see? The rainbow bridge.” You pointed.

“Huh? Oh, yes. Very nice,” he said absent mindedly.

You quirked an eyebrow up, but eventually shrugged. He was probably getting bored with all of this. A part of you was beginning to wonder why you thought this was a good idea. This thought detracted you from the sounds surrounding you. You suddenly felt cold and like something was hitting you?

You looked around and suddenly noticed that the fire alarm had gone off. Loud beeps filled the room. Everyone was trying to get out. Kids looked in all directions in confusion. Adults tried to keep them calm and safely head out. Your clothes were beginning to dampen. Instead of trying to get out, your first instinct was to get out of the sprinkler. You crawled under a table and peeked out.

The last few people were almost through the door. That’s when you decided it was time for you to go, but something caught your eye. Something in one of the upper windows that lined the wall near the ceiling. Starscream? His red optics stared down at you and he signaled for you to stay there, along with whispering to you through your earbud. You were confused, but you hid under the table once more.

You waited until the water stopped pouring. Once it was over, you pulled yourself out and to your feet. You glanced around. That was rather sudden. And now there were puddles all over the floor.

A loud rattling echoed in the room.

You turned to see the large door, the kind you would see in a garage, at the back of the room open up. The temperature of the room changed to match outside. Starscream held the door up with a mischievous smirk. You took your earbud out.

“What did you do?”

“I may have gotten bored simply watching through a screen and decided to come. And I may have possibly started a fire, opened a window, and held it next to one of those fire alarms.” His grin grew with each word.

“Really?” You asked rhetorically with your hands on your hips. But you couldn’t help but crack a smile yourself.

“What? I was bored.” He shrugged and waved a hand.

You shook your head with a laugh. “Whatever.”

Starscream ducked in. He had to stay bent down to order to fit. You moved out of his way was he came in.

“So, you were actually interested in this?” you questioned.

“I thought it would be better to see it in person with you.”

“Yeah, but some fire trucks or someone else is going to eventually come back here and see you.”

“Hmm.” He looked back. “I see. But one look for a nanoklick couldn’t hurt. I just did all of this so I could see it anyway.”

“Okay.” You shrugged. “Just hurry.”

After his wing nicked the roof when he tried to straighten himself, he quickly realized that it was easier for him to be on his knees. As he got down on his knees, you helped direct him down in the small free space between the tables. The legs skidding against the floor echoed through the room and made you jump. You were surprised he was even trying to do this when he could barely fit between the rows.

He had to lean in close to get good look of the displays. He would occasionally ask you the meaning of a word he didn’t know. You had to admit, it was more fun to have him there in person. Unfortunately you couldn’t enjoy this for fear of being seen. You constantly looked over your shoulder.

Eventually your paranoia dropped by a few notches. Though, by then Starscream had gotten tired of being crammed in a small space and probably noticed your concern. It was awkward getting to the garage door, between him being unable to move much and him blocking you. But you made your way out.

He lifted the door and ducked under and out. You followed when you noticed him freeze. Confused, you followed his gaze. Your blood went cold and you felt as if your mind was being squeezed into a box.

Staring up at Starscream was what looked to be a five year old child. The little boy was alone, probably wandered off, and had an orange jacket and hat. His expression twisted into disbelief then fear. Your heart rate quickened when you saw his face wobbling.

“Scrap,” you let out as you both turn the other way in panic.

Starscream closed the door with a loud bang that sent a shiver up your spine. You didn’t noticed what Starstream was doing behind you, since you were already running on instinct. When he came into your field of vision again, he was twisting on one foot to regain balance and lifted up the remote ground bridge device. In his panic, he hesitated on which button to click, but quickly pressed it once he remembered.

“Is it a good idea to open it up in here?” you questioned as the piece of cybertronian technology swirled and grew before you.

“I would have preferred a larger space, but I don’t believe we have much of a choice.”

He scooped you up and pulled you through. Like always, you blinked when a flash filled your vision. The air suddenly changed and you were back on the Harbinger as the ground bridge closed behind you. When he held you to the ground and you finally collected yourself enough to jump off, you realized that three of the cardboard presentations had managed to come through along with you and Starscream.

You stood there. “Well, that was interesting.”

“One shouldn’t cause any problems, right?” He looked to you before his eyes darted back to where the ground bridge was.

“That was a kid. They won’t believe him. They might look around, but after seeing no giant robot, they’ll dismiss it.”

“That’s good to hear.” Starscream groaned and held his shoulder. “That made all of my joints stiff. And the tip of my wing caught on the top of that door.” He glanced at his wing with a slight pout on his face.

You stared up at him, taking a moment to consider your words before you were unable to take them back. “… Would you like it if I massaged your wings?”

His optics widened and darted around the area. “Fine,” you could barely hear in the midst of low grumbles.

You blinked twice before fully processing what that meant. As you were trying to figure out how to even reach his wings, he held out his hand. You stepped onto it and he carried you to a table or whatever it was. It was too large for you to tell exactly. You carefully got off of his hand and he sat with his wings facing you.

You sat with your legs hanging off the edge. Your hands reached out to his wings. He readjusted himself so you didn’t have to lean forward in order to touch them. Your fingers shook. You hesitated. Finally, your hand laid flat on it. It was cold. You didn’t know what you expected. It was basically like touching a regular piece of metal. You weren’t sure what you were expecting. But somehow it felt different. Maybe because he had trusted you to touch it. You began rubbing it soothingly. You prayed that you weren’t doing anything wrong.

He hummed as you rubbed patterns onto it. Although you were sure he could barely feel it, you saw him relaxing. There was silence for several minutes.

“Why are you so kind?” he said.

“Huh?” You did your best to peek around to look at his face.

“How can humans be like this? At least you and the ones you talk about. Those small humans, no matter how well they proformed with their research, were praised. And how can other humans get along well enough to be allies despite having separate territories and governments? How can anyone do anything for someone else without expected anything in return.” He turned his helm to you. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“No?” You tilted your head in confusion. “I just wanted to because it was the nice thing to do?”

“How? Why?” He turned his whole body, leaving your hands floating in the air. “Why are you always so nice to me? Has it ever occurred to you that you would get nothing in return? Especially from a grounded Decepticon defect?”

“I’m not looking for anything in return,” you started calmly. “I might get to learn about cybertronians, and do some cool things with you. And I get to spend time with you. I get that in exchange, but I’m not expecting anything more. Can you please accept that there are some people who are just nice? Who actually like you and want what’s best for you?”

His face twisted, as if about to argue. But paused, like he had never considered that before. He opened his mouth again, but closed it again, when no words would come out.

He eventually sighed. “I suppose I’ll simply have to trust you,” he said softly. He stared at you closely. “Your hair dried.”

You suddenly remembered it had been wet from the sprinklers. He reached out and touched your hair, letting it fall on his talons. Then he flinched back. “Uh… apologies.”

You reached out to pull his finger close to you and hug it. “It’s okay.” You smiled. “I like it.”

Starscream appeared shocked by this, but relaxed and smiled. A genuine smile.

#starscream x reader #secret solenoid #secret santa #starscream #transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp starscream #tfp x reader #I swear I didn't see the thing about IaCon just because you were my giftee #someone I followed reblogged it XD

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years

Text

Was it appropriate to long for someone who loved another?

The question was one that Iwaizumi refused to acknowledge for the last six years, after Oikawa questioned the trainer’s feelings for their mutual friend. The conversation bloomed the night of your two-year anniversary with the younger Miya twin. It was quite difficult to miss the dozens of photographs uploaded to your social media, broadcasting the romantic evening that was planned. Soon his entire feed became only…you.

The former captain raised an eyebrow curiously at his friend, who was battling several emotions that were threatening to contort his features. It was not fate that brought Oikawa Tooru to his best friend’s side that evening. Rather, the decision to invite Iwaizumi for drinks on that particular date was a calculated choice. There were some questions that were nagging at him, ones that demanded answers before he departed from his home country.

“You didn’t think they would last this long, did you?” The inquiry was hummed out in amusement as he trailed a finger along the rim of the glass planted ahead of him. From the side of his eye, he noticed Iwaizumi shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“It’s good. We wanted her to be happy, and she is. So, it’s a good thing they lasted this long.” His words lacked an earnest vigour, and not even the straightest composure could sell the packaged response as the truth.

“Hmm. Oh, Iwa-chan. When will you be honest with me?” Exhaling a weighed sigh, Oikawa shook his head before taking a swing of the liquor. Or at least, when would he be honest with himself?

“What are you blabbering about now, Shittykawa?” The narrowing of his eyelids into slits was meant to resonate a sense of anger, or at minimum irritation. Yet, it was fear that was burning bright in his irises.

“Is it really appropriate to long for someone who is in love with another?” It was a dangerous question to be spewing, Oikawa knew the insinuations laying at the foundation were sure to provoke some dormant emotions. And so, when sorrow forced the other male to flicker his gaze to the opposite direction, the former captain blew out a low hum in understanding.

“I don’t long for her, you idiot,” After swallowing the lump in his throat, he attempted to brush off the comment, rather unsuccessfully. While Oikawa found his friend’s first protest to be a blatant lie, what followed next was enough to cause him to drop his face onto his palm. “She’s like a little sister to me.”

Despite Iwaizumi’s desire to present the admission as factual, calling you his little sister returned the crawling sensation that was prompted earlier to return to his skin; and he had to ponder whether the bitter taste in his mouth was from the liquor or from the deceit dripping from his lips.

“Iwa-chan, you know what they say. Denial is the first stage.” The humorous comment was accompanied by a gentle laugh. While his questions were completely shut down; the physical reactions that his inquiries elicited was enough to confirm his suspicions.

Unrequited love was tragic; but what made the circumstances substantially worse was that it began with mutual love. The only issue was that neither party dared to cross the boundaries between friendship and relationship, afraid to lose the other in the process.

“Shut up.” Neither boy was convinced or impacted by the half-hearted demand, rather it was silently understood that its sole purpose was to fill the empty space that was left for a confession that would not come.

However, the conversation laid a layer of bricks on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, shackling him to the truth he was desperately avoiding. It comes as no surprise that for the remainder of the evening, he could not muster the courage to scroll through any of his social media. For if he did, the action would be admitting something he promised to always keep buried.

Tonight, the question returned to the forefront of his thoughts, mocking him for a weakness he despised himself for possessing. But it was not longing that was behind the uneasiness bordering nausea flooding him. No – it was the thought of what could have been.

What if he said something? What if you did? Would you have been happier – not knowing the one who was the cause of your broken heart? Or would he have stolen from you a happiness that you could never receive with him?

Sinking his face into his palms, he clenched his eyelids shut, aiming to shove aside the haunting thoughts. He remained in the crouched position for twenty minutes, unable to gather the energy to adjust his posture until he heard slight stirring from the bed ahead of him.

“Akari?” From under the duvet, you raised a hand to beckon for your sister who was coincidentally, not in the bedroom at the moment. The impact of the alcohol had worn off considerably by now, leaving only an irksome strain in your temples.

“She’s downstairs.” The trainer debated internally whether to approach you or not, and upon hearing the little groan that was offered in response, he opted to wait before abandoning his post. “How are you feeling?” Resting his arms along his thighs, he laced his fingers together, stretching them anxiously on either side.

A verbal response did not immediately follow his line of questioning. As you raised to a seating position on the bed, your gaze dropped to the stuffed animal that was snug against your side. Your memories of what transpired earlier in the evening was lagging, returning to you at a slow rate that was highly antagonizing. Though, the pieces that you did remember were the ones involving your best friend whose gaze you could not meet. Maybe if you were younger, still justifying your decisions with the motto of no regrets, it would have been an easier task. But you knew what was said tonight was dangerously careless.

“Tired.” Whispering the response, you brought the plushie to your lap, gently brushing your fingers against the fur. While you did remember the accidental damage, your intoxicated state inflicted on your friendship; you did not remember how you came to possess the toy within your grasp.

“Do you remember anything?” Iwaizumi prodded, testing whether it was appropriate to initiate the conversation you were dreading to have.

“Pieces.” This time you responded promptly; emotion devoid in your mumbled response. “Though, I don’t remember asking Bo to get this little baby, so I guess I saw him?” You aimed to spit the final word of the sentence with venom, and yet it spilled from your lips, coated with a hint of fondness, rather than disgust – something that Iwaizumi caught on, twinging the spear planted inside of his chest.

“You did.” Ignoring the discomfort stretching along his torso, he forcefully stabilized his breathing, drawing longer and heavier breaths through his nose. He didn’t know what was expected of him now. His role in your life had always been one of a protector – but now, with the truth exposed as an open wound, what could he do? What should he do?

“I thought so. I was hoping that part was a dream.” Chewing on the inside of your cheek, a humourless melody was blown out. While you were unable to recall what the conversation was, an image of your fiancé had projected inside of your mind. In the memory he wore his vulnerability openly for you, and you despised how it made you want to comfort him. How you wanted to claim his pain as your own, even though your own heart was suffering from the pain he inflicted on it.

“Why didn’t you answer me? I could have been there for you. If it’s about what you said…” With his throat constricting, he was unable to complete the sentence. But you were quick to fill the silence, aiming to end the conversation before it could develop further.

“I wasn’t thinking straight, Hajime. Just ignore what I said, okay.” You couldn’t do this. Not right now. Not when your heart was already breaking from your last love – it would not survive additional pain from your first one.

“What if I don’t want to ignore it?” He did not intend to push the topic forward without your consent, but the question left his mouth before he could bite his tongue. Despite being regarded as the one who held a considerable amount of control of emotions, his resolve to remain in control weakened with each passing second.

“Why? So, you can tell me that you didn’t feel the same way? That you’re sorry? Because if that’s what you’re doing to say, please don’t. I don’t think I can handle it.” Drawing in a deep breath, you tipped your head up, fixing your attention on the ceiling, hoping the liquid hanging on your lashes would not depart. “And if you’re going to tell me that I was wrong, that you did see me that way…What’s the point now?” Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, your eyelids fluttered shut, granting the tears full reign over your cheeks. “You didn’t tell me it when it would have made a difference.”

The sight of you falling apart filled him with dread. How could he despise the younger Miya twin for his idiotic behaviour when he too caused you similar hurt? How could he have been so damn oblivious?

The only difference between him and Osamu, was that he didn’t care for his own pain. He didn’t desire your pity or sympathy. He wanted your happiness.

The distance between you two could no longer be tolerated. He quickly rose to his feet, making his way to the mattress, before guiding you into his arms. When you were in his embrace, you slowly placed your arms around his middle limply.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” What he was apologizing did not have to be stated, you knew what it was and that was enough.

Because you were sorry too… for what could have been, and what had been lost.

Let’s do it again, shall we - what if

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: no one kill me, LMAO.

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Taglist continued in the comments from my personal ❣️

#osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu x you #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu smau #osamu scenario #hq osamu #osamu angst #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu smau #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu

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hardygalwrites · 3 years

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Cartoon: Transformers Animated

Characters: Bumblebee and Starscream, with an brief appearance from Jazz

Synopsis: The Decepticons have successfully conquered Cybertron. Megatron, being the merciful mech he is, has allowed the surviving Autobots to continue living their lives and coexist with the newly arrived Decepticons. A few Autobots, however, are not so lucky...

Note: Originally published on FFN late in 2017. Inspired by Take It Easy by Alixier on FFN. TW for physical ab*se

—

To make one's way through the streets of Kaon was a slow task. And with a slagging Decepticon jet fighter on his tailpipe, 'slow' was the very last thing Bumblebee needed.

The little Autobot frantically pushed his way through the crushing crowd, spark fluttering and hydraulics pumping. He needed to get to the Kaon city square - it was considerably less crowded there. He would have enough room to transform and maybe, just maybe he would be able to get enough distance between himself and Starscream in order to escape. This, combined with the familiar sound of wings cutting through the air above him, was enough incentive for Bumblebee to push himself harder than he had ever thought possible.

What Bumblebee didn't realize, however, was that the crushing crowds were the very reason that Starscream hadn't already gotten his servos on him. The streets were too jam packed for the Decepticon to even consider landing. Bringing the chase to Kaon City square was much more a break for Starscream than it was for Bumblebee, and Starscream knew it. He transformed and landed moments before Bumblebee emerged from the crowd, just in time to see the panic in the Autobot's optics as he realized what a grave mistake he had made.

Though the little bot did attempt a frantic retreat, it took Starscream little effort to seize him by the back struts and lift him into the air.

Cackling in his captive's face, Starscream gloated, "You can't run, Auto–!"

"No!" A single word, but punctuated by a well-aimed kick to Starscream's faceplates.

The Decepticon seeker dropped Bumblebee with a shout, reacting more out of surprise than pain. Surprise was replaced quickly by fury, and Starscream seized Bumblebee by the stabilizing servo, once again thwarting the little bot's attempt at escape.

"Enough, you insolent little–!"

"No! Get off me! Slaggit, get off'a me!"

The surrounding bots were starting to take notice of the commotion (thanks in no small part to Bumblebee's nonstop shouting). Most of them passed by the spectacle with nothing more than a glance and a smirk. Many more stopped by to spectate. These bots nudged and whispered to each other, some regarding the struggle with sad optics, most laughing and making snide comments between themselves. Not one of them attempted to intervene.

Starscream grit his denta, holding the wriggling little Autobot at arm's length. "This is getting tiresome, Autobot!" he snapped.

"Let go of me, you slagging Decepticon!" the Autobot screamed in response. "Let me go, let me go, let me go!"

Starscream shook him in an effort to shut him up. "We've been through this an innumerable amount of times, you infuriating bug! You cannot escape me!"

"I can too! Let me go!"

"Yield!" Starscream shook him again. "Yield!"

"No!"

A scream of frustration escaped Starscream's vocal processor, and he threw the Autobot to the ground, effectively cutting off the constant screaming and swearing. As Starscream glared at the stunned Autobot, vents whirring harshly, he started to notice the crowd. The spectating bots were continuing to mutter amongst themselves, and while some were shooting glances at Bumblebee, most were pointing both digits and optics at Starscream. Feeling his faceplates heat up slightly, the Decepticon seeker grit his denta, composed himself in the most dignified manner possible, and stalked towards his Autobot victim.

Bumblebee was just starting to regain his wits. Groaning, he pushed himself up, and that's when he saw Starscream coming down on him again. Bumblebee's vents hitched and gasped. Frantically, the little Autobot pushed himself back, but Starscream's long stride looked to catch up to him within seconds.

Then, a white-chassised mech stepped out from the crowd, right between Starscream and his target, halting the seeker in his tracks.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" the mech said cooly, looking up at Starscream through a blank blue visor.

Starscream stared back down at the mech uncomprehendingly, until his optics caught the insignia on the mech's red-and-blue-striped chestplates. Faceplates morphing, the seeker spat, "Step aside, Autobot. This doesn't concern you."

"What, you beatin' on a youngling less than half your size?" The mech crossed his servos with a scoff. "I know this town's been slated for crashville, but somebot's gonna get bent outta shape over that."

"That bot belongs to me, and I will not let you get in my way!" Starscream thrust a servo at the mech's face, intending to shove him aside, only for the mech to catch it in his own servo. "What on Cybertron–?"

The mech shoved Starscream's servo away. "Well, if he 'belongs' t' you, I'd say that's all the more reason t' get bent outta shape, you dig?"

Starscream swung his claws at the mech with a snarl, an attack the mech easily dodged. Growling, Starscream turned his null ray on the mech. "Do you have any idea who I am, Autobot?!" he screamed, powering up his weapon.

"Hey, what's going on here!?" A few Kaon Police officers shoved their way through the crowd and into the scene.

Powering down the null ray, Starscream was quick to point an accusing digit at the white mech. "This Autobot assaulted me unprovoked!"

The mech, of course, pleaded his innocence, but no bot in the crowd dared to back him up and the officers were naturally skeptical. As it became clear that he was not going to win, the mech's cool finally started to crack slightly, allowing Starscream a smirk as the mech was lead away, throwing out every insult imaginable.

Then, Starscream he caught a flash of yellow out of the corner of his optic. His smirk disappeared. In the blink of an optic, Starscream had yanked Bumblebee out from the crowd, servo easily circling the little bot's neck.

"Thought you could escape that time, did you?" Starscream snapped, a hint of smugness added to his biting tone.

Once again though, the seeker found himself at the centre of attention. He turned on the crowd, scowling. "Don't you bots have anything else to do?"

The crowd continued to glance and mutter amongst themselves. Slowly though, they began to disperse and go about their daily lives.

Bumblebee's spark shrank. Venting harshly, he struggled against Starscream's freakishly large servo. "Get off'a me...!"

"Oh, no, you don't!" Starscream tightened his servo and once again slammed Bumblebee into the ground. Getting onto one knee joint, the brutal Decepticon then pulled the small, battered Autobot upright onto his own knee joints, and hissed into his audial receptor.

"Look around you. Everyone is gone. Decepticons. Autobots." Starscream swept open his free arm, indicating to the surrounding city. "Cybertron is a Decepticon home world now. Whatever camaraderie you might think exist between you Autobots is gone.

"Look at them all." The seeker sneered at the crowd, a mixture of Decepticons and Autobots going about their day. "Just attempting to live those lives the ever great Megatron so generously granted them. They aren't willing to risk giving that up. No one will help you - you belong to me!"

Bumblebee flinched as the last word was screamed into his audial receptor. He tried to break free, but the attempt was half-sparked. He tried to block out Starsceams words, but he couldn't. So many 'if onlys' were spinning through his processor - if only Starscream had never spotted him; if only he hadn't run into Kaon city square; if only he had pulled himself together sooner, while Jazz had been distracting Starscream; if only someone else had helped him... Starscream was only putting into words something that Bumblebee had been suspecting for a long time.

If he had been human, Bumblebee was pretty sure he would have been doing that crying thing right about now.

"No," he mumbled. "I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone."

Starscream smirked. "You keep telling yourself that, Autobot."

Standing up, Starscream pulled Bumblebee to his stabilizing servos. Bumblebee writhed uncomfortably. The seeker's hold had been transferred to the little bot's back struts, and though it was still firm and unyielding, it was significantly gentler compared to anything else Bumblebee had felt under Starscream's servos.

"But whatever you tell yourself," Starscream continued amiably. "You do realize how much easier it would be to just stop resisting, don't you? I doubt your friends have caused this much trouble."

Every part of Bumblebee's chassis tensed. He tried not to think too much about his friends, especially since he wasn't too sure where most of them were. The most he could guess was that Prime was stuck under Megatron, but everyone else... Again, Bumblebee tried not to think about it. His imagination did tend to come up with some of the worst scenarios that could be conceived.

"I'm a resister," Bumblebee replied simply, pushing those troubling thoughts aside. "I have a reputation to keep."

Once again, his chassis tensed as he waited for Starscream's inevitable freak-out. Instead, Starscream's hold simply tightened slightly and the seeker himself let out a low chuckle.

"Don't we all? I have a reputation to keep myself, Autobot. That's why I can't have you running around, causing a scene." Starscream flicked at one of his captive's little horns, earning himself a wince and a grumble of displeasure. "Besides, didn't I warn you that another little escapade like this would result in you being locked up in solitary... indefinitely?"

"No!" Bumblebee yanked himself free of Starscream's grasp, but instead of bolting, he turned on the significantly larger bot, looking up at him with optics full of panic. "Please, don't! I won't- I-I promise I won't do it again! I promise I'll be good! I'll- I'll do anything! I promise! Just... please... don't... Please..."

Faltering, Bumblebee dropped to his knee joints, faceplates in servo.

Starscream stared down at the little bot, optics wide. He knew how much the Autobot hated isolation, but he hadn't quite expected this reaction. Perhaps one too many solitary sessions had finally broken the irritating little bug.

That was fine by Starscream.

"Get up," he ordered.

Bumblebee obeyed, helm hanging low. Starscream placed a guiding servo at the little bot's back, and the two bots proceeded to walk back towards Starscream's apartment.

Starscream's apartment was at the very top of one of the highest complexes of the city, and it was more of a suite than anything. It took up the entire top floor. One could see the entire city from up their. Starscream liked it. Sometimes, he would jump off and enjoy the feeling of a free-fall, before transforming and activating his engines at the last possible moment. It made him feel more powerful than he actually was.

"Go clean yourself up, and meet me in the berth room," Starscream said as soon as the two of them entered the suite. He smirked as the little bot obeyed without so much as a remark.

As he himself walked towards the berth room, the glint of one of the many cameras caught Starscream's optic. He glanced at it, glaring, and quickly entered his berth room. Of course, another camera was waiting for him there, but he tried to ignore it. As much as Starscream liked the suite and its powerful viewpoint, those cameras always succeeded in spoiling the enjoyment for him.

Bumblebee, meanwhile, got himself clean. The scratches and dents couldn't really be helped - Starscream would never care to let him fix anything cosmetic, and the dents usually required some kind of paltry medical attention. As he left the washroom, Bumblebee avoided optic-contact with the mirror.

His recharge berth was in the same room as Starscream's recharge berth. The room certainly beat that old cell Bumblebee had been forced into during his first several cycles under Starscream's stabilizing servo, but something about it almost made Bumblebee prefer the cell. After all, there were plenty of other rooms in the suite, and yet Starscream made him recharge there.

Speaking of Starscream, the larger bot was looking out over the city, nursing an exotic oil blend, when Bumblebee entered the berth room. Bumblebee hung back, but Starscream, without turning, crooked a digit in his direction.

"Come closer."

Bumblebee obliged. He stopped alongside the towering Decepticon, helm low and optics on the grooves in the floor.

"You don't want to undergo a solitary session."

It wasn't a question.

Bumblebee's servos clenched. "N-no... No, I don't."

Starscream took a sip from his oil blend. "But you did run away again."

Bumblebee yelped as Starscream's servo caught the top of his helm.

"So, tell me, Autobot," the seeker continued, optics still aimed out the window and vocal processor dangerously low. "What exactly is keeping me from throwing you into solitary right now?"

Bumblebee's own vocal processor seemed to be uncharacteristically non-functional as he grasped at the servo attached to his helm. The most the formerly chatty bot could get out was a tight, "Please... Don't..."

"Or what, Autobot?" Starscream hissed. "You haven't given me much incentive to the contrary."

"Please," Bumblebee gasped, finally finding his vocal processor. "I promise I won't be bad again."

Starscream cackled. "Your reputation doesn't make your promises very valid, Autobot."

"I really promise!" Bumblebee exclaimed, vocals hiking up a pitch, if that were possible. "I'll never try to escape again, I swear! I'll- I'll do whatever you want!"

This gave Starscream a pause. "Including acknowledge me as your sole lord and master?"

"Yes! Yes! Anything! Just–"

"Do it."

"What?"

"Do it!" Starscream snapped, looking down at the little bot for the first time since he had entered the room. "Acknowledge me as your sole lord and master! Prove that your promises are valid!"

Bumblebee looked up at Starscream as best he could with the heavy servo still attached to his helm, optics betraying hesitancy.

"Do it!"

The next few moments seemed to be an eternity as Starscream glared downward and Bumblebee stared upward. Then, Bumblebee's servos dropped to his sides. His helm drooped. His vocals were quiet and tired as he spoke.

"I acknowledge you as my sole lord and master..."

A triumphant smirk appeared on Starscream's face. He tossed the Autobot aside. "Go recharge."

Bumblebee stumbled as he landed, but managed to keep himself stabilized. Without a word, he walked over to his berth in the far corner and lay down. Ordinarily, he would have been back in the cell or stuck in solitary after an escapade like this. But not this time. And yet, it felt as though he had lost some long-standing battle, and that feeling ate at Bumblebee's spark. It continued to eat at his spark as he drifted into a fitful recharge.

As Bumblebee drifted off, Starscream couldn't help but shoot a smug look at the berth room camera. He finished his oil blend and cast a look towards his little prize. The recharging bot shuddered slightly. Starscream smirked, and left the room. Finally, after so much time spent locked in figurative battle, he had beaten the stubborn little Autobot and erased that irritating rebellious streak. Starscream would gladly accept the victory.

Meanwhile, somehow deep in his restless recharge, Bumblebee saw himself finally winning against Starscream. Never again was he going to lose to that slagging Decepticon. In real life, Bumblebee smiled as, in his dreams, he placed triumphant stabilizing servo atop the screechy bot.

That streak was still there. Neither Starscream, nor even Bumblebee knew this, but the streak was still there. A rebellious streak never to be broken.

#posting from THE ARCHIVES #ah yes angst #the one thing I know how to write lol #transformers animated #transformers #transformers fanfiction #bumblebee #tfa bumblebee #starscream #tfa starscream #fanfiction #HardyGal writes stuff #HardyGal writes fanfiction

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owl-with-a-pen · 3 years

Note

Hola querida! We need a story where brainy says something along the lines of “touch her and I’ll kill you” or “don’t you dare touch her..” we don’t see many instances of protective boyfriend brainy.

- I was trying to think of a scenario for this for a while, but 6x03 gave me an intriguing idea. Thanks for the prompt! x

Brainy had expected this task to be easy.

After all, compared to every other thought track currently running simultaneously through his mind, gathering a box of belongings from Lena’s old workplace hardly needed space for consideration.

Brainy understood why Lena didn’t want to face Luthor Corp again, certainly not to collect the meagre selection of knick-knacks that one of her old assistants had no doubt scooped into a piece of cardboard for her to carry out with her tail between her legs. It was a cruelty, plain and simple, and Brainy was beginning to learn how much such cruelties stung.

So, when Lena had mentioned with offhanded distaste what she needed to do that day, Brainy was more than happy to volunteer to go in her steed. It worked in his favour, after all. Alex had been pushing him to get out of the lab for some fresh air for nearly eighteen hours - now he could fulfil her request.

With one thought track focused on reformatting Nia’s training simulation, and another remotely accessing the Phantom Zone data map for any new leads, Brainy found he had far too much of his mind left wide open - places where far more dangerous thoughts were now encouraged to grow more often than not.

Perhaps a distraction was exactly what he required.

The office should have been empty. That’s what Lena had said, that’s what Luthor Corp’s security feed had suggested. Brainy hadn’t considered any alternative outcomes, and so the moment he’d spied Lena’s belongings sat on the table by the sofa, he’d headed there immediately.

“Not even a week without her assets and I see my sister’s already wrangled someone into doing the heavy lifting for her.”

The sound of that voice sent every nerve in Brainy’s body on edge.

He’d been doing better. Over the last few days since his talk with Lena, he’d been doing better. Giving himself an emotional outlet, allowing them to flow from him instead of being boxed inside, turning to toxic waste in his gut. He’d even found it easier to switch his attention from the television when Lex’s face predictably appeared for one of his seemingly never-ending publicity stunts.

But, that was television. That was circuits and screens, separating them from one another.

Now, Lex was stood there in the room with him, Lena’s desk acting as their only partition.

Brainy could feel Lex’s eyes on him, shark-like and hungry, waiting for his response. And so, Brainy kept his jaw locked tight, focusing his line of sight on the box and nothing else. Of picture frames and other keepsakes.

A photo of Lena and Kara stared up at him, their smiles so pure and genuine it nearly stung.

The acid in Brainy’s lungs swelled.

Aggravatingly, his lack of response only made Lex that much more talkative.

“It was an impressive hack, by the way,” Lex continued casually. “I assumed you were the mastermind behind it. Reminds me why I wanted you on Team Lex to begin with.”

Brainy stiffened. “I was never on your team.”

He shouldn’t have spoken. Shouldn’t have given in. But suddenly, all that he had done to free himself of his emotional backlog hardly seemed enough. It surged from the very depths of his uninhibited mind, hissing and spitting like vitriolic acid.

Which only seemed to make Lex’s confidence grow.

“Is that what you tell yourself?” Lex asked. “Does it help you sleep at night?”

Brainy bared his teeth.

“Oh no,” Lex said, fake sympathy dripping from his voice. “Something tells me it’s not working.”

Brainy pursed his lips, instead reaching once more for the box. His arms trembled with wasted potential, but he ignored their protests. He had a task to do. Unexpected interruptions aside, Lena was counting on him to carry it out. And he would not fail.

“Maybe it isn’t for you at all then,” Lex wondered aloud. “Maybe you sell that story for your girlfriend’s benefit.”

An ugly flash of red tinted Brainy’s vision.

“Nia, isn’t it?” Lex asked innocently. “I hear she works for CatCo, quite the up-and-coming journalist. Although, CatCo is such a troublesome place of work, isn’t it? Always getting destroyed in the crosshairs of city-wide threats. Just how long can that place go without another casualty?”

Brainy could hear the barely disguised threat behind Lex’s words.

Fresh rage bubbled inside his chest, inching closer and closer towards his heart. The box blurred from his line of focus and, in the next instant, Brainy found that he was staring directly at Lex, his fingers clenched so tightly he felt the sharp prick of his own nails digging against his flesh.

“Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Brainy said, his voice so low he barely recognised it as his own. But it was his voice, and he realised all too soon that his threat was very real.

After all, he could do it. He knew exactly how to do it. Multiple ways, in fact, flashing through his mind with startling precision, each one more elaborate and gruesome than the last. Watching the light extinguish from Lex Luthor’s eyes… nothing would make him happier.

His ancestors would revel in it. They already were, louder than ever before, melding with the rage that was corroding his lungs with every breath he took.

Some quiet part of Brainy’s mind startled at such inclinations, such a desire to be one like the bloodline he had fought so hard to renounce.

But what was one whisper against a hoard of enticing cheers?

Lex only stared at him, with that smile that never quite reached his eyes, urging him to the very edge of his emotional barriers. “Empty threats, Brainiac-5.”

That was all it took.

Brainy didn’t remember clearing the room, only that when he was fully aware of himself again, he was stood in front of Lex, his right hand gripped firmly around his throat. Every implant inside of him was fired up, ready to snap his neck at the slightest provocation.

When a gleeful laugh tumbled from Lex’s lips, the red staining Brainy’s vision only grew stronger. He growled out, slamming Lex’s body against the reinforced windows with enough force that they shuddered inside their fixtures.

All he needed to do was activate his implants to their highest capacity, activate his ring, and he could take Lex high into the sky. He could watch the oxygen drain from his lungs. Watch his eyes bulge and swell.

Or… or he could simply drop him. Drop him down into the city he nearly destroyed, allowing him to fall with such velocity that the only thing that might remain of him on the sidewalk would be a smear of blood and bone. Like he had never been a person at all.

He had never been a person at all.

Brainy bared his teeth, looking his enemy in the eyes.

Which was when he saw it.

There was no fear there. In fact, if anything, Lex only looked deeply satisfied with what he’d done. What emotions he’d brought to the surface.

Brainy’s eyes flickered back and forth uselessly over that expression, trying desperately to make sense of it. But it… it didn’t make sense. He was threatening Lex’s life and… and he didn’t care.

No. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He was enjoying this. This game. This…

The red film washed from Brainy’s eyes all at once.

He let go of Lex’s throat, stumbling back a pace, gripping uselessly at Lena’s old desk, squeezing it numbly.

Brainy’s chest heaved.

This wasn’t him. He’d spent months now hiding from his truest self, allowing the rage of everything Lex had put him through to fester into a corrosive bile inside his chest and stomach.

But, he was not a killer. He would not turn to the darkest version of himself. He had fought far too long and hard to prove that he was not his kin. That he would never follow the path of his clan.

Lena had let Lex go. And now… now Brainy knew he must do the same.

Lex had crumpled when Brainy had removed his hand, holding tight to his throat between dramatic gasps of air. Still, he was smiling, something crazed shining in that expression. Something... desperate.

Ah. Now, Brainy believed he understood.

Lex needed this… this sick form of attention. Without his sister, without Supergirl, he had run out of enemies to aggravate.

Perhaps it had not been happenstance that this office had been inhabited when Brainy had arrived, after all.

“You aren’t worth my attention,” Brainy said through his teeth, trying to draw in from the emotionless façade he had pulled in the past. It was far more of a struggle than it had ever been before, but it was enough to keep his voice steady. Brainy took a step forward, watching Lex quizzically, as though he were nothing but an animal inside a cage. “My friends,” Brainy continued levelly, “my loved ones, we protect each other, but who would protect you?”

Lex blinked, the smallest furrow creasing his brow, a murmur of confusion.

Brainy’s lips twitched. “If I were to kill you, who would even care if you were gone?” He smirked. “No one.”

Brainy turned away from him then, ignoring the angry red handprint that still painted Lex’s throat, ignoring his enemy’s attempts to goad him even as he headed out the door.

Instead, he took Lena’s box.

And he walked away.

#supergirl #my writing #brainiac 5 #lex luthor #nia nal #anon #my prompts #this wasn't quite brainia heavy in the end but i just HAD to explore brainy's emotions okay?? i NEEDED to #also sorry once again for the delays in prompt fulfilment. if i get hit by inspiration i go for it. there is no order in my inbox.#thank you for the prompt though!

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theswampspirit · 4 years

Text

Some Camp Cretaceous Season Two Theories!

Okay, let’s get this out of the way before I watch Klayton Fioriti’s video and that topic bleeds into mine. I’ve got a couple of theories that are based off some of the other tumblr peeps posts as well as some Fioriti’s videos, along with some that I surmised from my own viewing. I start with the obvious one(s), and go from there.

Theory #1: Ben is alive and reconnects with the group.

Like I said, pretty obvious. Even though the ending is pretty ambiguous and a more cynical side of me could say the finger twitching is postmortem muscle twitch, I highly doubt the writers will kill him off and not have him return to the group. That being said, the exact nature of this reunion is up in the air. Will Ben be mad at the group for leaving him and losing track of Bumpy? Will it be a joyous return full of strong emotions? Will Ben be understanding of them being forced to leave him, only to ironically be left behind themselves? There are a number of ways this could go down, I just hope that the writers continue to do it well. *By the way, if you haven’t yet, check out @ren1327 ‘s fan-fic titled Sweet Survivor for a possible way this could go down, especially if you ship Ben and Kenji.

Theory #2: Bumpy could be at least horse-size by the time the group catch up with Ben and Bumpy.

Given that Bumpy was a mere hatchling when the gang sans Kenji and Darius first met her and she was the size of a mid-sized to average dog the next time we see her (a few days at best), Bumpy could continue to see accelerated growth to end up the size of a horse by the time the rest of the group reencounter her and Ben, if given a few days in between then and the s1 finale. But I should also take into consideration that Bumpy could stay that size for a little while longer. For this, I point to the baby T. rex from The Lost World. Already a dog sized animal, characters Roland Tembo and his hunting partner Ajay discuss how it’s “probably only a couple of weeks old, never left the nest”. Now, this could mean either the baby (big) dinosaurs start to slow their growth down at a few weeks, or they just continue to ramp up their size. It should also be noted that Rexy was only a few years old (possibly three) by the time of Jurassic Park, when she was already at adult size. Either way, Bumpy could stay small for a while, or she could get big all of sudden again.

Theory #3: Blue will become an antagonist, at least at first.

This goes back the end of episode one and beginning of episode two, primarily the latter. Blue is typically thought of as the tame, new mascot of Jurassic World and the modern Jurassic Franchise. I would disagree to an extent. While I like the idea of Velociraptors being the menacing threat that they are, I think that Blue opens the door for just how far one can take raptor intelligence. Blue, like animals in general, isn’t always on the hunt for food or seeking to kill all humans. She knows when to discern a potential threat from an ally or just some rando shmoe. When we first saw her Camp Cretaceous, I didn’t take her appearance either a tame dog or a man-hungry monster. She just curious. She only turned menacing toward Kenji when she felt threatened by the camera flash, and towards Darius when he invaded her space. But all of this context aside, we know that she’s out now, and we know that from the stare-glare she gave Darius back in episode two that she’ll likely run into at least him, if not the rest of the group. Perhaps being the only raptor on the island, she might target the kids before any other dinosaur, because she might be aware that little teens are easier targets than most other dinosaurs. She could even attempt to attack Ben and Bumpy. I could also see her terrorize the group once they’re reconnected until Darius manages to come across a resonating chamber from one of the fallen raptor squad and uses it to communicate with Blue, too which she is intrigued, confused, and possibly feel some other strong emotions from hearing the voice of one her dead sisters coming from this teenage human. At that point she leaves the group alone and gives Darius one last look before jetting off to live out the rest her life on the island in solitude.

Theory #4: Mantah Corp come to the island.

This something I found on the TV tropes website (tvtropes.org); quick summary, Mantah corp come to the island to obtain dinosaur assets and the kids who were once fighting for survival against the dinosaurs now have to save them. Mantah corp is likely one of many different corporations who want their hands on that sweet dinosaur-cloning, genetic power. With their ties to Sammy, this could give her a personal arc to stop them (the whole “it’s personal” thing), as everyone, especially Yaz, and maybe Brooklynn and Darius, feels majorly invested to help her. Related to this...

Theory #5: Dave and Roxie run some kind of rescue mission to the island.

Another one courtesy of TV tropes, they mentioned that these two, along with potentially the parents of the kids, mount up some kind of rescue mission to Isla Nublar. There are many ways to go about this. They can do illegally or under the table, like with the Kirby’s in JP3, or as in Fallen Kingdom with Lockwood, Eli Mills, and Claire. I don’t think they’ll straight up kidnap someone and lie their way with money bribery. Instead, I can actually see a more underhanded mission go down, one involving Mantah Corp. Get this: we know that when Mantah Corp wanted something from the Gutierrez family, they didn’t straight up go “Hi, we’re from Mantah Corp! We give cash if you give us your teen daughter to us as a spy!”. They will likely send some agents that don’t reveal themselves as Mantah Corp to Dave and Roxie, only that they hear their plight to bring the Nublar Six (that could be the name Dave and Roxie give them to raise awareness of their plight) home, since government officials won’t risk a mission to privately owned island, and Masrani Global also won’t risk it (This could come back to JW:FK, as they are too rash here with these kids, so they debate about it for the dinosaur survival in 2018). Dave and Roxie are suspicious but are without any other option, and choose to go with a bunch dinosaur mercs (this is what I’m calling the nameless mercenaries of the Jurassic franchise). Only after they’re on the island do they realize what’s going on, and join the kids to save each other and the dinosaurs from Mantah Corp.

Theory #6: Baryonyx is the new primary antagonist(s).

There are three differently colored Baryonyx in connection with Jurassic World through the toy line. It is possible that they become the new antagonist theropod for the second season.

Some other theories are the inclusion of Rexy and other dinosaur species from the Jurassic World movies, seeing species going extinct again, the Dilophosaurus and Spinosaurus coming back, and possibly even running into other stranded survivors.

So long this post was, hope y’all enjoy!

#jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous season 2 #camp cretaceous season 2 theories

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

for monster march, ghost + indruck + nsfw?

Here you go! I borrowed some ideas we’ve tossed around on the Discord

A sketchbook, new pens, a Hershey bar, and a bag of jumbo marshmallows. A small but lively fire. And a new, huge, fuzzy sleeping bag waiting for him in the tent.

Not a bad camping set up for a city-boy art goth (as Barclay likes to call him).

Indrid sticks another marshmallow on the fork, roasting it until it’s deep brown, the smell of burning sugar curling through the air and settling in his hair. He’s never liked Graham Crackers, so he jams a square of chocolate into the molten center of the marshmallow and shoves the entire thing into his mouth.

Kepler is small. Barclay hadn’t been kidding about that. He’d also been right that one of the two tattoo shops in town was willing to hire Indrid after looking through photos of his work and confirming he completed his apprenticeship.

He’s been living in the Eastwoods campground in the Monongahela National Forest while he apartment hunts, and the tattoos he’s done so far netted him enough cash to buy his luxurious new sleeping bag. He might be waiting on a place for some time, so he may as well camp in style.

Three “s’mores” later, the moon is up and the night is chilly enough that he wants his sweatshirt. Ducking into the tent, he can’t find it on his pillow, where he swears he left it this morning. Maybe he accidentally buried it getting dressed.

A splashhiss interrupts his rummaging. Scrambling from the tent, he discovers his fire is now a pile of soaked ashes and logs being angrily stirred by a thick piece of kindling.

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

A man in a ranger uniform appears, the stick falling through his hand as he gives Indrid a disapproving stare.

“Look here, I know you’re new here, maybe to campin entirely. But you can’t just leave a fire burnin when you go to bed.” He doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s a disappointed big brother scolding his sibling.

“I wasn’t-”

“And all this” he gestures to the food on the table, “has gotta go in the bear box. Black bears are real good foragers and we don’t want ‘em comin’ into camp and gettin to comfy around humans.”

“Of course, but-”

“You didn’t take any food into the tent, right? Wouldn’t want somethin to decide to join you ‘cause it smelled a snack.”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “I am aware of all of these rules, and plan to follow them. Once I actually go to bed instead of ducking into the tent for my sweater. But since my evening appears to be over…” he grabs the marshmallows, roasting fork, and chocolate, carries them to the bear box, and slams it closed.

When he whirls back around, the ghost is still there, chagrined.

“Uh, sorry. I kinda jumpy about people leavin fires alone.” In the lantern light, his smile is as charming as his drawl. His stocky, bearish shape and unassumingly handsome face command Indrid’s focus, which is why his revelation comes so quickly.

“You...there’s a statue of you at the visitor center. Which makes you, ah, damn it what was the name-”

“Duck. Duck Newton. They put my legal name on there, even though Juno tried to stop ‘em. But my name’s Duck.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Duck. I’m Indrid.”

“Nice to meet you too. Uh, sorry for ruinin your campfire, looks like you were havin a nice time.”

“It’s alright. I suppose I’m grateful there’s someone haunting the campsites to keep them in order.”

“You’re takin me bein’ a ghost surprisingly well.”

“I’ve always been interested in strange things, to the point that I earned the nickname ‘mothman’ in high school.”

“Huh” Duck watches him a moment, then shrugs, “well, guess I better be goin’. Have a nice night, mothman.”

With that, he’s gone.

------------------------------------------------------

“Hello again.” Indrid says as the campfire smoke curls around a human form, “Doing your rounds?”

“More or less. I like my job, and ain’t about to give it up just because I beefed it and turned into a ghost.” A creak as Duck joins him on the picnic bench. When he materializes, he floats slightly above the worn wood, watching Indrid draw.

“That’s incredible, it’s so realistic it’s like you pressed the leaves into the pages instead of colored them.”

“Thank you.” adds depth to the leaf, “you know, I looked at the statue again today. It hardly does you justice.”

From this close, he can see a blush spread up semi-opaque cheeks. Then he starts fading.

“Oh, ah, I’m sorry. I was aiming for a benign compliment, not to make you uncomfortable.”

“S’alright, just surprised me. Not many folks wanna flirt with a dead guy.”

“I’m more interested in what the ‘dead guy’ wants.” Indrid smiles, hoping to convey he would submit to spectral touches as readily as he’d keep talking.

Duck floats closer, “Kinda curious about your other drawin’s.”

Indrid turns the sketchbook back to the beginning, “they’re half portfolio and half travelogue. Here” he holds up a fade, detached piece of paper, covered by an Morpho Butterfly that looks ready to fly away, “this is the first tattoo I ever designed.”

“Damn. Guessin’ that means you did this one” he touches the Rosy Maple Moth on Indrid’s forearm (or tries to). It’s chilly, but not in the way Indrid feared. More like taking a cool shower on a sweltering day.

“I did. Here, it gave me an idea for my first series of flash tattoos…”

They go over the illustrations page by page. Slowly, Indrid weaves in questions to Duck who, instead of recoiling from discussion of his mortal life, tells him rambling stories about the woods and which places serve the best food in town.

The conversation doesn’t end until the fire goes out on it’s own, Duck standing automatically, grabbing a water bottle, swearing, and then disappearing so he can pick the bottle up.

“Do you think that’s part of why you’re still here? Some unfinished business having to do with the woods?”

“Nah.” The water bottle thunks back on the table as Duck reappears, “I tried to live a normal life, improve the world the way I knew how, make some kind of difference to this town. Then I had to go play the goddamn hero.”

“I would say saving two dozen people from a forest fire makes a considerable difference in the world.”

A sad huff of a laugh, “Yeah, guess you’re right. Just...I meant to do somethin’ with my life, not my death, even if it was a small somethin’, and the closest thing I got to unfinished business is a model ship.”

“I...what?”

“It was four-masted and everything! I had Leo order it in special and everything and then I never, I never got to-” He tilts his head up, sniffs once, “never mind. I better let you get to sleep.��

By the time Indrid calls “goodnight,” the ghost is gone.

------------------------------------------

“Please tell me you’re gettin a place soon so you stop eatin everythin outta a can?” Leo bags the last of groceries.

“No such luck. Ah well, there are worse things than canned soup and Pop-Tarts.”

“At least let Barclay feed you, half the point of havin a friend who can cook is to let ‘em do it for you. You need stamps or anything?”

“N-” A box behind the counter catches his eye. It’s at an odd angle, as if whoever put it there is hoping no one will see it. Indrid can just make out an illustration of a four-masted ship.

“Is that for sale?”

Leo looks where he’s pointing, and for a moment something in his gruff affability wavers. Then he nods, “Yeah, suppose it is.”

“Can you ring it up for me?” Indrid nearly bounces on his toes when Leo sets the box on the counter and confirms his hunch.

The older man sets a gentle hand on the cardboard, sliding it across to Indrid, “Don’t worry about that, kid. It’s yours.”

----------------------------------------------

“Duck?” Indrid turns in a circle by the picnic table, “Duck, I have something for you!”

He saw the ranger briefly last night, but he didn’t hang around. Gingerly, he sets the box on the table, tearing off a piece of sketch paper to write a note in case the ghost stops by while he’s asleep.

“Holy fuck.” Duck floats across the table from him, “‘Drid, where did, how did--why?”

“Leo still had it. As for why I, ah, it seemed like you still wanted it. If you can douse a fire and over my camp stove, I figure you can build a model ship.”

Duck disappears and Indrid’s heart sinks; that must have been too much. Then he’s squished in an invisible, wonderful bear hug.

“Thanks, ‘Drid.”

From then on, Duck spends every night at his campsite, building the ship while Indrid draws, reads, or talks with him. The model lives in the safest corner of the tent during the day.

“I mean, I’m up durin the day too, but I scared a few folks on accident and I don’t want people avoid the forest because of me.”

Indrid also learns that Duck is stuck within a certain radius of where he died, and that his attempts to talk with Juno when she was in his part of the woods only lead to his friend thinking she was hallucinating and Duck feeling miserable for three solid days. Indrid offers to act as messenger and invite Duck’s friends (many of whom have, by chance and by proximity to Barclay, become his friends) to the campsite to see him. The ranger is quiet for some time after that offer.

“Not yet. Maybe someday, but not yet. I, it ain’t even been a year, ‘Drid. I think a lot of ‘em are still hurtin. And, and maybe this is selfish but...I ain’t ready to deal with them findin’ out I aint fully gone. It’d be so much all at once.”

Indrid doesn’t bring it up again. More than once, when Aubrey tells a story about Duck only for her eyes to sadden halfway through, or when he sees Juno looking at Duck’s statue a little too long, he struggles to keep his promise.

A cold front blows into town and, since he’s still in the tent, he pops into Kepler Thrift N Find in search of an extra sweatshirt. Tucked in between one reading “Ranchos” and one with a picture of Garfield is a soft, well-loved hoodie with “Monongahela National Forest” on the front. He buys it and wears it home, the fact it’s loose in the arms making it even easier to tuck in his hands when he gets cold.

He stops by the visitor center out of habit, checking out the new plush wild animals. There are also hints of Duck here and there; his name on displays, his face in group photos. As he contemplates a small, squishy black bear, he notices Juno looking at him more than usual.

“Hello again” he sets the bear on the counter.

“Howdy. This all?

“Yes, please. Are you alright? You look, ah, tired.”

“Yep. Or, uh, just noticed that sweatshirt. It was one that got made special for staff a few years ago.”

Indrid fidgets with the cat-bitten drawstring, “It was Duck’s, wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh. He put that patch on the sleeve. Guess it startled me to see it on someone else.”

“I understand.”

“Knew him since we were kids. Hell, he’s my daughter’s godfather. Still don’t feel right, bein’ here without him.”

Indrid pushes the bear towards her and she pets it.

“What was he like?”

In the empty visitor center, Juno tells him. In her stories are echos of every conversation he’s ever had with anyone who knew Duck. When it’s time to close up, she asks if she can hug him, and thanks him for listening to her.

“Guess you weren’t kiddin about wanting to sleep with a bear” Duck teases as Indrid sets his new purchase inside the tent. Indrid whaps at him, arm going through his torso. The ranger floats nearby as Indrid heats up ravioli and opens a can of Mountain Dew. Indrid tells him about the conversation with Juno.

“Huh, guess that is my old one. Glad someone is gettin some use outta it. And it looks good on you.”

Indrid sets down his bowl, “We talked a lot, Duck. And it made me think about what you said to me one of the night after we met. You said you wanted a chance to make the world, the town, a little better. Everyone I’ve talked to, and I mean every one, has a story about you. How you helped them, how Kepler is worse off with you gone. You did so much, even with your time cut short. I, I wanted you to know that.”

The ghost looks away, “I wasn’t done tryin to help.”

“You still aren’t. You do what you can to keep the forest and the visitors safe. And you, you’ve made my life immeasurably better Duck. Seeing you is the best part of my day and I think I’m falling--ah, that is, you’re not done making a difference.”

Duck hasn’t moved since Indrid started talking about his feelings. When Indrid tries to meet his eyes, he disappears. Hurried, he reaches out to offer a reassuring touch and gets only air.

“Duck?”

Nothing, even after he calls his name three more times.

He slumps onto the bench, “well, fuck me I guess.”

---------------------------------------------------

This is a terrible idea. But it’s his last, and therefore his best.

Indrid even asked Barclay’s boyfriend, Joseph, if anything in his impressive library of the paranormal advised the reader on dealing with upset ghosts. A few did, always from the perspective of trying to get the specter to go away. They said nothing about what to do if your upset ghost was missing, leaving an ache in your heart you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

Instead, after a week of silence, Indrid changes tactics: if he can’t coax Duck back, maybe he can annoy him into appearing.

Tonight, he finishes dinner and cleans his dishes, puts the bulk of the food in the bear box, and then tears open a bag of chips, scattering them across the table. He eats one, then leaves the open bag laying amongst the potato shards.

Next, he dumps his remaining water on the fire, which takes it down to embers but does not extinguish it. When none of that gets a reaction, he decides to narrate.

“Hmm, that should be fine, it’s not that dry and I don’t think sparks can go over the edge.”

“Should I leave these juice pouches out? Yes, I think I should, in case I get thirsty at night. Maybe I’ll take one into the tent, just to be safe.”

He already feels silly and like no one is listening, and so he escalates.

“I know I shouldn’t leave food out for the wildlife, but since there’s no handsome, ghostly ranger here to punish me for my transgressions, I am just going to leave some nuts out for the raccoons. I like raccoons. They deserve nice things. Hell, how about I just leave them a whole buffet since no one is stopping me!”

All he gets in reply are the few bugs awake this early in the spring and the crack of brush as a small mammal runs away from the weird bipedal thing yelling at his camp fire. He doesn’t leave out food for the raccoons; he climbs into his tent in a huff. What a bad idea, to think this of all things would bring Duck back to him. He’s being childish and bratty and selfish; Duck doesn’t deserve that, no more than he owes Indrid his company.

He changes into his pajamas pants and sleep shirt, intending to go back out to make the site safe and tidy. Except.

Except something just opened the bear box. The chip bag crinkles and the fire hisses out a minute later. He should be running outside to apologize, but his mind has simultaneously registered the full darkness of the night , the possibility that Duck is not the only paranormal thing in these woods, and the fact the nearest other campers are on the other side of the campground, meaning he is very, very alone.

The zipper on the tent moves, the flap falling open so his lantern shines on nothing but April air.

“Duck? Please say that’s you.”

A low chuckle, “It’s me, ‘Drid.” The fly zips shut, “mighty peeved about that trick you pulled.”

“I’m, I’m sorry. I missed you, but that was a bad way to communicate that.” He can’t see him, and the lantern only picks up the odd shift of sleeping bag or tent floor, so Indrid’s eyes’ dart about trying to pinpoint him.

“Oh, you communicated plenty, sugar. Like what you want a certain, uh, ghostly ranger to do to you.”

“Oh god” he winces, “please, forget I said that, it’s humiliating.”

“Not all that surprisin, truth be told. I mean, you and I flirted now and then. And you told me enough about yourself for me to suspect that you’re a kinky little weirdo who’s dyin to get fucked by a ghost.”

“I, I feel I should point out that I only want to fuck one ghost. You. I want to fuck you and that means fucking a ghoOOOst.” He gasps as cold lips press into his neck.

“I can make that happen, darlin, all you gotta do is say it. You were a pain in the neck earlier, so now I expect you to be real polite and use your words.” Duck’s voice has never been like this before, rough and possessive yet still, under all of it, the same warmth draws Indrid in like a flame.

“I want you, Duck.”

A bite to his ear, strong arms wrapping around his waist from behind him, “Want me to do what?”

“Fuck me” this is like every wet dream he had as a teenager, the supernatural being coming for a fellow outsider.

That gets him a tender kiss on the cheek, “That’s better. Though, if I’m rememberin correctly, word you used was punish.”

Indrid yelps as Duck turns and shoves him to lay across his lap, kicks his legs out in surprise when his waistband slides down to his upper thighs.

“Yesss” he wiggles his ass as Duck palms it, “yes, Duck, pleaseAHgod” the first strike stings, and Duck doesn’t let him recover before delivering five more, three to each side. His cock perks up at the pain. Stranger still, because Duck is invisible, all Indrid has to do is tilt his head to watch it harden and twitch with each slap.

Twenty strikes later Duck pauses, hand rubbing soothing, cool circles on the burning skin, “Learned your lesson?”

“Mmhmm.” Indrid presses an awkward kiss to Duck’s knee.

“Glad to hear it.” Duck hauls him up onto his knees, slides a hand under his shirt and up his chest, “I’m rarin’ to feel more of you--holy fuck”

“AH!” Indrid arches as Duck toys with his left nipple piercing, his other hand quickly finding the right.

“God, fuck, you’re fuckin hot, if I were alive I woulda taken you home first time I saw you.” Messy kisses cover his neck as Duck tugs the piercings.

“Gaahnnyes, that’s, that’s very flattering.”

“Ain’t flattery, sugar, it’s the truth. Never could turn down some skinny punk with piercin’s and messy hair, not when I was a teen burnout hidin in the woods and sure as hell not now.” He moves Indrid onto his back, rucking up his shirt as his legs twist in his half-down pants. The ranger cups his face, and Indrid is positive he’s meeting his eyes, “tell me what you want sugar, tell me so I can treat you right.”

“Marks, I want marks anywhere you’ll give them.”

A growl from above him, then lips smashing into his, drinking him in before continuing down his throat, biting and sucking hard enough that he cries out every time. Duck pauses, teasing his nipples with his tongue as he rakes his nails up his sides. He sits up and for a horrible moment Indrid loses him. Then with glee he watches five red marks drag down his chest. He moans, rolling his hips and discovering just how closer Duck’s clothed cock is to his own. The contact only feeds the rangers eagerness, and Indrid is tosses and turns as he sucks, bites, and scratches, laying claim to the illustrated expanse of his body.

“More, please, god that all feels so good.”

“Don’t worry darlin, still got plenty of you to mark up, but we’re gonna do somethin else while I do.” He eases Indrid onto his stomach, slaps his ass fondly, “don’t go nowhere.”

Indrid’s duffel bag unzips, clothes and pens moved aside until a bottle of lube hovers in the air. The tube compresses and drips coat the rough outline of fingers. When the two digits press into him he sighs, eyes closing as he melts under Ducks watchful eyes.

“That’s it ‘Drid, relax for me. Got well over a year of horny to work out, so this cute ass needs to be ready to take it.”

Indrid pushes his hips back in reply, taking as far as the fingers will go and whimpering excitedly when he presses in the tip of the third. Duck works that one more carefully, kissing Indrid’s face and shoulders as he whispers about how good he is, how much he’s wanted this.

“I want it too so for, for goodness sake please fuck me soon or I’ll leave my entire cooler out for the bears.”

“Only one bear in this campsite tonight darlin.” Duck laves his tongue down the base of his spine, bites down hard on his ass. Indrid’s still moaning from the pain when his cock pushes in.

“Fuuuckme that’s good. Shoulda snuck into your tent sooner, sugar, made you a fuckin cocksleeve you feel so fuckin good.”

“Ohgod” is all Indrid, voice muffled by the sleeping bag he’s biting, manages before Duck adjusts them so Indrid is on his knees. The ranger isn’t gentle, pounds into him like he’s nothing but a warm hole and chuckles whenever Indrid moans.

“H-handprints, Duck, want hand prints GAHyesyesyes” he struggles to move in time with the ghost as the air fills with ear-splitting slaps. He’s so close, the pain and the sensation of phantom fingers claiming his body making his body beg for release. When he slides a hand down to jerk himself off, the arm twists up and stays trapped against his back.

“You wanna cum, you know what to do.”

He blinks away the ecstatic tears, words raw in his throat, “Please let me cum, Duck. I want to, need to cum while you fuck me pleaseplease-” he cuts off into whine as the ghost works his cock hard, all the while jamming into him hard enough that the smooth fabric of the sleeping bag burns his knees. When he cums it’s with a weak cry of Duck’s name, which is swallowed up by hungry lips as Duck kisses him over and over, repeating Indrid’s name like an incantation as he pumps his hips and cums, pulling out as he does so it splatters on the reddened patches of his ass.

A final kiss to the top of his head, and then there’s no contact between them and the zipper is moving.

“Oh no you don’t” Indrid scrambles, sweaty and exhausted, between the tent fly and the invisible man somewhere in front of him, “for goodness sake, Duck, I thought you liked me enough to at least let me fall asleep before you ran.”

The ranger finally appears, hair a mess and cheeks noticeably pink, “‘Drid, all that was amazing, but it’s all I can give you. I, I can’t...you said you were fallin for me and I can’t give you that.”

Indrid cocks his head, “Why not?”

“Because I’m a fuckin ghost, ‘Drid! You deserve to be with a livin’ fella, you deserve someone who can be a real part of your life.”

He crosses his arms, “Duck, you are a real part of my life. Honestly, what part of all the nights we spent together, all the ways we take care of each other, all of this” he points at the rumpled sleeping bag, “suggests otherwise?”

The ghost doesn’t speak, simply hugs himself (or tries to).

“If this is too much, if I’m offering something you do not want, then please tell me. But if this is you thinking that some paranormal quirks keep you from being a worthy partner for me, kindly think again.”

Duck disappears and Indrid is gearing up to try and tackle a supernatural entity when a familiar face buries itself in the crook of his neck. The ghost clings to him, and Indrid clings right back.

“You really wanna give it a go?”

“More than anything.”

Duck lifts his head so their cheeks rest together, “Then fuck it. Let’s see what happens.”

----------------------------------------

Indrid finishes hooking up his lightly used Winnebago, AKA his solution to the lack of available apartments. He’s in a different section of Eastwoods, but he’s happy with his new spot. He opens one of his few boxes, gently lifts the completed model ship into a place of honor, and waits, humming happily, for an unseen hand to knock on his door.

#indruck #monster march #indrid cold/duck newton #reader request #ghost au

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dresupi · 3 years

Text

Kings & Queens - Sansberyn

for vampireacademy96 2,158 words Rated T Kings & Queens - Ava Max

~~~~~~~~~~

Sansa was over it. She was supposed to be meeting her betrothed tonight, and she already wished she’d found a way to sneak off. There wasn’t a way to do so now, however. She was going to have to meet Oberyn Martell whether she wanted to or not.

Well, of course she wanted to meet him. She’d always sort of wanted to meet him, ever since she was an adolescent and Oberyn Martell was the tabloid-coined “Bad Boy of the Royals”. He’d garnered quite a reputation. Even earned himself a nickname. The Red Viper.

Even though she wasn’t entirely sure what it was for.

She twirled her hair around her finger. That was what made this all the more ridiculous. He was at least fifteen years her senior and never married. Under what sun was this man going to be interested in her?

Besides, having a crush on someone and being nudged into an arranged marriage with them were two entirely different things.

The royal marriage law was antiquated anyway, even if Sansa thought her mother was secretly happy it still existed. Sansa was liable not to get married at all if she wasn’t required to by law, so it was the queen’s only hope at marrying off her oldest daughter. Arya wasn’t looking to get married either, but at least she was so far down the line of succession it didn’t matter.

Robb was the first in line. He’d gotten married and was expecting his first child, so why was she required to do this, anyway? With the way Marg and Robb looked at each other, they’d probably have like a billion kids and Sansa would never have to worry about marrying well to produce an heir.

But Mum was definitely worried about it so here she was, arranging a meeting between Prince Oberyn Martell and her daughter. He was a Prince of Dorne, no less. He’d no sooner be interested in her than she’d be interested in the animals her brother hunted. Not that she was an animal, but it was a metaphor, obviously.

If her mother and father could have scoured the world for someone with less in common than Sansa Stark than a Dornish prince, Sansa wasn’t sure she wanted to meet that person.

As it stood, the prince had travelled from a long way to meet her. And likely wasn’t any more inclined to the match than she was. So they could meet, see there were no sparks, and move on.

It was one night. One dinner.

She could do this.

Inhaling deeply, she rose from her chair in front of her vanity. She’d dressed for dinner, seeing as Mum and Dad had called for a full-service feast just to introduce her to this man. Well, her mother had. Dad had warned that it made them look desperate when they weren’t even announcing an engagement, but Mum had replied, “We are desperate, dear.” And Sansa had rolled her eyes.

She was wearing a gown with silver and grey stitched into a brocade. The brocade pattern featured a pack of direwolves running through the forest. She actually really liked this dress, so she supposed she could look at this as an occasion to wear it. The dress did deserve a banquet in its honour, so it was easier to look at it that way.

Margaery met her at her door so they could enter the dining room together. Robb wasn’t here tonight, he was out on a hunt and likely wouldn’t be back until early morning, so Margaery and Sansa had agreed to walk to dinner together. Even though they wouldn’t be seated together or enter together, seeing as it was a formal banquet.

“That gown,” Margaery said softly, reaching out to brush her fingers over the brocade pattern on the skirt.

“I know,” Sansa said with a grin.

“I am going to have so many dresses made once I have this child,” Margaery said, laughing as she ran her hand over her swelling abdomen. “So. Oberyn Martell...” Sansa laughed as her sister-in-law switched gears suddenly. “Did you google him at all?”

“I didn’t have to. I already know everything there is to know about him. He’s quite fond of the nightlife, and he’s not entirely difficult to look at.”

She was playing down her early-adolescent crush on the man. That wasn’t knowledge she wanted to get out.

“Not entirely---“ Margaery dropped off at the end. “Sansa. He’s a gorgeous man.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Aren’t they all?”

“No, I mean it. You have seen him, right?”

“Yes, I’ve seen him. He’s handsome,” Sansa replied. “I’m just absolutely certain we won’t have anything in common.”

“Oh, and Robb and I do?” her sister-in-law scoffed.

“Well... you two are the exception to the arranged marriage horror,” Sansa replied. “You two clicked immediately and you love each other now.”

“Now, yes. And let me tell you, the fact that your brother is easy on the eyes helped things sway in his favour considerably.”

Sansa laughed as they reached the hallway outside of the dining room.

Margaery had to enter before her, given that her title was higher than Sansa’s, but Sansa liked that she got some time to collect herself.

“I’m only saying. Give him another look. And another chance,” Marg’s parting wisdom, was as ever, apropos.

Her unspoken, immature crush on the Dornish Prince notwithstanding, it was such a surprise that her mother even considered him as a possible suitor. He seemed the type she’d scorn with a wrinkle of her nose before moving on to more worthy suitors for her oldest daughter. But perhaps Margaery was right. All that was years ago, and he was older. Perhaps he’d matured.

Sansa was a grown woman now as well. Halfway through her twenties and with six years of university under her belt. She wasn’t a blushing princess any longer.

Well, she was still a princess, but blushing, she was not.

Until she walked into the dining room and laid eyes on him.

Oh, the years had been very kind to Oberyn Martell. Or perhaps, he’d always looked like this and the most she’d ever seen of him was from the Paparazzi photographs that emblazoned the covers of the trashy tabloids she had brought to her each week.

He hadn’t graced the covers recently either.

At any rate, Marg was astute in her statement that he was a gorgeous man.

Gods, he was so gorgeous.

And Sansa could scarcely find her voice when it was finally her turn to meet him. “Your Royal Highness,” she said, with a nod. She didn’t have to curtsey to him, their titles were technically the same.

He smirked and mirrored her. “Your Royal Highness.”

They were seated together, of course. But they were also seated near her mother and father, and the former monopolized the conversation to try and push them into some sort of repartee, and the whole thing fell flat.

Sansa, annoyed with her mother’s constant machinations, rose to take a stroll on the balcony between the dinner dishes being cleared and dessert being served. Oberyn stood as well, and while she assumed it to be merely decorum, he asked permission to join her on her walk.

Catelyn nearly fell out of her chair with the force of her self-induced launch towards the pair to follow them onto the balcony, and subsequent return at the behest of Ned. “Do stay and speak with me, darling. I need your guidance on a matter of utmost importance.”

He winked discreetly at Sansa, who turned back to Oberyn to accept his invitation for company.

As they walked along the stone balcony, the light from the adjacent rooms flooded the stone in arches when they passed the windows.

“So, you said before that you finished your degree?” Oberyn asked, in relation to the last thing they’d attempted to discuss in the dining room, only to be interrupted by Cat, who wanted to divert attention away from Sansa’s degrees as much as possible.

“I did,” Sansa replied. “I’ve a master’s now in Art History.”

“Truly?” Oberyn mused. “Never had the patience for university myself. That’s quite an achievement.”

Sansa smiled. “At first glance. You still haven’t asked what my emphasis was in.”

“Art?” he guessed, laughing.

She laughed too.

“Or history?” he ventured again, clearly joking and giving her the opening to supply the correct answer.

“Textiles,” she replied with a laugh. “I study old cloth. And notably, fashion from hundreds of years ago.”

“Now, why wouldn’t you lead with that? It’s much more interesting than merely holding a degree in Art History.”

“My mother was solidly against my choice of emphasis. She wanted me to become more well-rounded by university, not sharpened to a point. Not ‘obsessed’ with old dresses, as she so eloquently phrases it. What about you? I know you said you didn’t go to university, but you must have done something these past few years.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked. “Because I wasn’t in the papers so much?” His voice belied his curiosity.

“I never said that,” Sansa replied.

“Didn’t have to...” he stopped walking and her heart sank.

She’d offended him. She had to fix it.

“I don’t judge you for anything you did or didn’t do,” she said quickly. “If I’d been half as bold, I’d have done the same.”

“I never implied that I thought you were passing judgement, but that is indeed good to know,” he mused, walking once more.

She fell into step beside him. “Your Highness, I simply wished to---“

“I like you. A lot. Despite how my brother talked you up and forced me to come on this trip... As much as I don’t want to bend to his wishes, I like you, Sansa.”

“I like you as well.”

“Good. Because I have a proposition for you.”

“You do?”

“Indeed. I think it would be mutually beneficial for both of us.”

“What is that?”

“We bend to their wishes. And then, to each other.”

“What, I...”

“Have you taken lovers before?” he asked, his eyes fiery and dark.

“Yes,” she replied. “As have you.”

He smiled. “As have I. I propose... we should get married. Keep the lot of them off our backs, and you will be able to continue sharpening your points, so long as you don’t object to sharpening them while travelling with me.”

“I...”

She liked the idea. If anyone had asked her before now, honestly, she wouldn’t have. But the thought of travelling the world with Oberyn Martell was one she’d like to explore. She had but one reservation.

“You’re suggesting a loveless marriage?”

“I’m suggesting a loveless wedding,” he countered. “Love doesn’t come until the fires of passion have smouldered. And considering we have yet to even light a match, how could we possibly marry for love?”

“It’s awfully pragmatic of you. What if we never fall in love?”

“Then, we separate. Go our own way, take our own lovers, but under the umbrella of safety that a royal marriage provides. We’ll never be bothered again by our families.”

“I think you underestimate the meddling powers of my mother.”

“Oh, I’ll be whisking my bride away to Dorne immediately following our ridiculously long honeymoon.”

Sansa had to admit, she liked the sound of that. Dorne was warm and sunny where the North was cold and dark. She’d be able to sunbathe. To watch her children grow and play in the sunlight.

“Children?” she asked.

“As many as you want.”

“If I didn’t want any?”

“Then none.”

“If I wanted eighteen?”

“Then we’d better get started.” He smiled, reaching for her hand, but stopping shy of touching it.

She closed the distance and laced their fingers. As they began to walk once more, she asked. “When should we tell them?”

“Why not tonight?”

She laughed. “We can’t tonight.”

“We can’t?”

“We don’t know enough about each other. Why, we’ve never even kissed.”

She wasn’t asking to be kissed, but she wouldn’t complain at all that she subsequently was kissed.

Oberyn tugged her close with the hand that was clasped in his, tucking his other hand around her lower back and lowering his lips to hers. It was sudden and slow at the same time.

She brought her hand to his jaw, cupping it and rubbing her thumb over his facial hair.

When he ended the kiss, she staggered slightly, but he just tightened his hold on her and grinned. “How’s that?”

“Right, let’s go tell them now,” she said, turning and tugging him along with her.

He laughed and pulled her back once more. “In a minute...”

She smiled and wrapped both arms around his neck. “I suppose we can wait for a minute...”

“Or five...”

“Or twenty,” she breathed.

“Kiss me,” he murmured.

It was actually more like thirty-five, and they almost missed dessert.

She was so glad she hadn’t found a reason to sneak off.

#Sansberyn #Sansa Stark #Oberyn Martell #Sansa x Oberyn #Oberyn x Sansa #Sansa/Oberyn #Oberyn/Sansa #GoT #Game of Thrones #my writing #song prompts 2021 #orange #vampireacademy96

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ghosttotheparty · 3 years

Text

while the world ends around us (make believe with me)

3. I’m to making shift for shaping a life AO3

It’s like it’s the same day all over again when he wakes up. The same gentle whir of his fan, the same blankets covering his body, the same cracks in the ceiling above his bed that look like shitty, knockoff constellations. The same cup next to his bed, half-empty, as always, the same guitar, in the same position, in the same spot in its stand against next to his bed. The same four walls, staring down at him as if in judgement.

What’s different today is the quiet patter of rain, tapping against his window, asking to be invited in.

It’s a welcome noise.

Peaceful.

He almost wants to open the window, let the rain in, let it wash over him, let it wet his hair and get caught in his eyelashes, let it run down his face like tears. But he doesn’t. He sits up, looking across the small room, and watches drops race down the glass. It’s a little bit dark out, the sun blocked by clouds, and he expects to see bright reflections of light in the drops, but he doesn’t. He almost wants to close his eyes, lay his head against the wall behind him, and just listen to the rain, but he doesn’t get the chance.

There’s a knock at his door, and he calls out a gentle “Come in,” as he tugs at the blanket, moving it on the bed so the end of it is pulled up in front of him.

The door opens and Lotte walks in, wearing pink pyjamas, cradling a stuffed bear to her chest, and the door swings shut behind her, thudding loudly, but she doesn’t react to it. She just looks at Jens, holding her bear, the bottom of her oversized pyjama pants pooled around her feet, the ends of her sleeves bunched around her hands. She looks smaller than she usually does. Her eyes are soft, gazing at him across the room, until he cocks his head, beckoning.

As she climbs onto the bed, he pulls the blanket off his lap, shifting and lifting his back from the wall enough to swing the blanket around his shoulders, gripping in his fists and wrapping it around himself as Lotte crawls into his lap, her back against his chest. He wraps his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder and she lays her head on his, sighing.

Jens moves down on the wall slightly, tightening his arms around her, and she turns so she’s sitting sideways in his lap, laying against his chest. Her arms are wrapped around the bear, her chin nestled on the top of its fuzzy head, and Jens runs one of his hands through her hair, gently combing through tangles and knots.

“I miss Daddy,” she says softly after a few quiet minutes.

Jens sighs, removing his hand from her hair, and leans down, kissing the top of her head gently. He sees that her eyes are closed, and a part of him hopes she’ll fall asleep like this.

“Me too.”

“Why can’t we go see him?” Her voice is small, like she’s hoping she’ll get a different answer than she got last time.

“People are getting sick, Lotte.” He runs a hand over her hair and lays his head against the wall, his eyes on the window. “We have to stay home so fewer people get sick.”

“I haven’t gotten sick.”

“I know. But some people get sick easier than other people. We just have to try to keep them safe.”

He watches the rain race down the window, listens to it against the glass and the roof, and he listens to Lotte breathing, her soft, quiet breaths that form a rhythm that he follows without thinking about it.

“When will we see him again?”

Jens doesn’t know how to answer. He has no idea how long this will last, this lockdown, this confinement. Their father is only a few blocks away, is only a few streets down from where they are right now, probably sitting at his dining table with his laptop in front of him, working. Maybe he’s wondering the same thing.

“Eventually.”

She does fall asleep on him, still clutching her bear, but one of Jens’s hands ends up between the soft fuzz and her small hand, her fingers wrapped around one of his. He feels her grip loosen when she drifts off, but he doesn’t move.

---

He’s always known that the apartment is small.

The kitchen is tiny, a counter around a small room, old cabinets that shut too loudly, a leaky faucet that drips into a metal sink, a circular dinner table pushed into the corner of the room. (Lotte likes to crawl under it and sit in the corner.) The door opens directly into the thin hallway, and just a step down it is the living room, with a small sofa and coffee table, usually covered in scattered paper and markers, pillows strewn across the floor. (When Jens hangs out with Lotte, he usually sits or kneels on one next to her.) All three bedrooms are the same size.

Jens often feels like he’s trapped in a box lined with fairy lights. He has to squeeze between his bed and the closet in the wall to slide it open. He has to either slip between his bed and dresser or climb over his bed to make it to his window. He only has to take two steps to get from the door to bed. He’s always wanted a desk, but there’s never been enough space anywhere in the apartment to put one. (And barely enough spare money to get one.) Lotte’s room feels bigger, but only because her bed is smaller. She has space to play on the floor, and when Jens sits with her, his back against the wall, there’s just enough space to stretch his legs out in front of him.

This is where they sit while they draw together. Or rather, while Lotte draws and Jens makes a half attempt before giving up.

It’s also where Lotte falls asleep a few days later, as she draws and Jens scrolls on his phone. It’s early in the morning, and Jens suspects Lotte stayed up until their mom got home last night, smiling softly and shaking his head as her eyes flutter shut for a second before she opens them, blinking blearily and picking up the pencil that had slipped from her fingers.

“Tired?” he asks, and she shakes her head, contradicting herself by yawning.

“No,” she says lightly, and leans down to the floor, looking closer at her drawing. Jens looks at his phone, checking the time.

“Do you want to take a nap?” Jens asks after a second. He has a few minutes before he needs to log in to a class. It’s one of the only teachers that require him to join the video call. And his least favourite, because she also requires them to leave their cameras on.

Lotte pauses, looking up at him without lifting her head.

“Yes,” she says finally, and drops the pencil, turning on the floor and climbing up onto the bed. Jens picks up the sketchbook and pencils as she snuggles into her pillow, clutching a stuffed animal to her chest and looking up at him. Her curtains are already pulled shut, the soft sunlight shining through them and washing the small room in pink. He pulls up her blankets and tucks them under her chin, making her giggle.

“I have a class,” he says. “You know when to get me right?”

“Only if I’m hurt or if I’m scared.”

“Good girl,” he says, and bends down, brushing her hair out of her face and kissing her forehead lightly.

She already looks asleep by the time he shuts her door behind himself.

It’s even quieter without the sound of her pencil on paper.

Jens closes his bedroom door with a quiet click, and finds his laptop under his bedside table before tossing it lightly onto his bed and hopping up, bouncing as he lands criss-cross.

He also turns the camera off before he joins the class’ video chat but leaves it on at the last second, shooting a look at himself and ruffling his hair, huffing.

“And there’s Jens!” Ms Peeters says a second after he joins, and he drops his phone, looking up and smiling lightly. She’s one of his favourite teachers. She’s one of everyone’s teachers, honestly, always enthusiastic and considerate. She could be their grandma. “So nice to see your lovely smile, good morning. And Mila, hello!”

“Victor, did you cut your hair?” she asks as more people flood the meeting, looking delighted. There’s a pause as Victor turns on his microphone.

“Uh, yeah, my mom did it.” He doesn’t look happy, and Jens stifles a laugh, seeing how messy and short his hair is now, a contrast from the shoulder-length locks Jens is used to.

“Well you look very handsome,” Ms Peeters says in response and Victor smiles. “We’re waiting on one more student…” She tilts her head up and looks closely at the screen in front of her through her glasses. “But he might still be figuring it out, we can go on and start without him. Who wants to quickly go through what we did last class?”

It’s quiet and Jens pulls his notebook closer, looking at his messy notes.

“Uhm…” a girl’s voice says finally, her audio garbled, sounding like she’s standing down a long tunnel. “We were going over different forms of poems and we stopped when we finished talking about sonnets.”

“Yes, and?”

“And you asked us to find a sonnet online and summarise what it’s about and the rhyme scheme, and to write a haiku.”

“That’s right,” Ms Peeters says. “And if I remember correctly, almost all of you turned it in. If you didn’t, you know who you are, please get it in by this afternoon.” (Jens turned it in late last night. Almost everything he turns in now gets turned in late at night.) “So, if you looked at today’s lesson plan…”

As she speaks, Jens’s screen rearranges itself, squares of students jumping across the screen as another square appears. The student’s camera isn’t on, so all Jens sees is an L in a circle.

“...you would have seen that we’re— Oh! There he is!” Ms Peeters exclaims. “Lucas, if you wouldn’t mind turning your camera on?”

There’s a pause, and then Lucas appears.

He’s looking up past the camera, watching something behind his screen, before he looks back, smiling awkwardly and waving a hand. He has curls falling in his face, and Jens smiles without noticing.

“Lucas, introduce yourself!” Ms Peeters says.

He mouths Uhm… and then leans forward slightly, clicking the microphone.

“My name is Lucas…” he says, an awkward smile still on his face, and Jens scoffs in sympathy. “I’m seventeen.” He pauses, looking hesitant. “I’m an artist.”

It’s not obvious, Jens thinks, looking at the wall behind Lucas. It’s completely blank, except for the stripes shadows of blinds. Not what Jens would expect from an artist. But, he supposes, he doesn’t know what kind of art Lucas means.

“I moved here from Utrecht.”

“Well, we’re very happy to have you here, Lucas. How was the move? What with everything that’s going on right now?”

“Uh, it wasn’t great.”

Ms Peeters laughs sympathetically.

“No, but it wasn’t awful,” he continues, shifting in his seat. His laptop moves as he does and Jens wonders if he’s sitting on his bed like Jens is. “The train was mostly empty and the mask wasn’t too bad. It was mostly just… moving all my stuff in here that was the hassle.” He glances up again as he says this.

“Well, lucky for you, I don’t give that much homework,” Ms Peeters says. “Most everything I’ll be assigning can be done in maybe fifteen minutes or less if you focus. But I am assigning a project soon.” Jens sees the students groan and throw their heads back, and he laughs.

“Not today!” Ms Peeters says, making an offended expression. “Calm down. I’ll be assigning it later. And it’s not poetry, I’m sure you’ll all be happy about that.” Lucas is laughing, Jens notices when he looks away from Ms Peeters. His eyes squint under his smile, and when he pushes his curls out of his face, Jens can see the slightest hint of freckles scattered across his cheeks. Jens, unfortunately, has a hard time looking away from Lucas’s little square. Ms Peeters presents her screen in the meeting so the class can take notes, and Jens’s notes are, as Moyo would probably put it, half-assed. He ends up paying more attention to the way Lucas’s brow furrows as he writes and the way his eyes move across the screen as he reads.

He wonders if his voice sounds different in person.

#friendly reminder that i am in fact an american #i know nothing about belgian school systems or belgian poetry #but i do happen to be in ap literature so im using that as a basis for their class #so if felmish sonnets have different rules than english ones im sorry #i know nothing and im a shitty researcher #anyway drink water and eat something yummy #take your meds #and relax your shoulders #i love you #<3 #vds #van der stoffels #wtfock #skam nl #jens stoffels #lucas vdh #lucas van der heijden #while the world ends around us (make believe with me)

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shapeshifting-wildcard · 3 years

Text

The annoying thing about living in the countryside was how far away he was from everything. Including a good therapist.

Sumaru City was a good three hours away from Inaba by train. He wasn't looking forward to the six hour round trip, but maybe he could use his teleportation app to cut the travel time down next time. That was a consideration for another time, though, and entirely depended on how long it would take for him to get Morgana declared a service animal. (Even if they refuse to acknowledge the "animal" part.)

He wasn't sure what he was expecting as far as the actual building was concerned. But he had to admit he wasn't expecting it to be so... nondescript. It was a building just like any other in the city. It didn't look like a hospital or laboratory or anything like that. Honestly it looked more like an office building than anything else. He double checked his notes, making sure this was the right place and which office he was looking for. Thankfully, it was on the first floor which would make his life a lot easier. Down the hall, checking each number plate as he passed until he reached the one he was looking for. He knocked on the door and a woman's voice greeted him from the inside.

"Come on in."

Jou entered the office. Again, not exactly what he expected to see. The desk and the bookshelves weren't that surprising, he supposed. The chair in front of the desk also made sense. But there was also a couch off to the side, and a lot of paintings the likes of which he'd never seen before. Seated at the desk was a woman, probably middle aged, with short-cropped dark brown hair and a beauty mark next to her mouth.

"Let's see, you're... Inojita Jou-kun, right?"

Jou nodded, hovering near the doorway with a certain amount of awkwardness. The woman gestured to the seat in front of her, offering him a pleasant smile.

"Have a seat, Inojita-kun." Jou took the indicated seat as she rummaged around in her desk for a moment. She pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil, sliding it over to him as he got settled. "My notes say that you're selectively mute, so if you'd feel more comfortable writing than speaking, feel free to make use of this pad."

Jou nodded and set down his bag next to the chair. Morgana poked their head out as he collected the pad and pencil.

"She seems nice so far," Morgana remarked.

"I'm Doctor Sonomura," the therapist introduced herself. "It's a pleasure to meet you. So what brings you here today, Inojita-kun?"

The million dollar question. Jou twirled the pencil between his fingers for a moment as he worked out what he wanted to say. Eventually, he wrote, "I'd like to see about getting my cat certified as a service animal."

Doctor Sonomura glanced over his response and nodded. "Did you bring your cat with you?"

Jou nodded and lifted the bag onto his lap, allowing her and Morgana to see each other face to face. Doctor Sonomura smiled and reached out towards Morgana to let them sniff her hand before she attempted to pet them.

"Oh, what a pretty little cat!"

"I am not a cat," Morgana grumbled before leaning into the offered hand. But Doctor Sonomura didn't start petting right away. Her eyes widened in a look of visible surprise.

"Ah... did your cat just... talk?"

Both Jou and Morgana froze, staring wide-eyed at her in return. A moment of tense silence fell over the trio.

"Ah hell, that's three times now!" Morgana blurted out. "How does this keep happening?!"

"Three times...?" The poor therapist looked so lost. Morgana sank into the bag a bit, ears back and looking sulky.

"...You're a Persona user, aren't you?" Morgana asked.

"Oh, did your..." Doctor Sonomura paused. "Ah... Wait, can only Persona users hear you speak?"

"Yes, exactly," Morgana said. "I'm glad you catch on quickly, at least."

"Well, it's been a long time since I've run into any other Persona users!" Doctor Sonomura laughed and shook her head. "But I think I'd be overstepping professional boundaries if I went too far into that. This session is supposed to be about you, after all. Oh, right, I almost forgot to ask: what's your name, kitty?"

"Not a cat," Morgana grumbled again. "But anyway, my name is Morgana."

"Nice to meet you, Morgana," Doctor Sonomura said, and this time she actually pet the not-a-cat. "I suppose the fact that you can speak makes evaluating whether you'd be a good companion for your friend here a little easier. So, why do you want to have Morgana become your service animal? Does it have to do with your previous diagnosis-"

Jou shook his head, prompting a curious look from Morgana. Wait, previous diagnosis? What was she talking about?

"It's separate from that," Jou wrote. "I've been struggling with some things lately, but Morgana has been a great help in keeping me grounded."

"What have you been struggling with, if you feel comfortable sharing?"

Jou's heart lurched. He chanced a look into Doctor Sonomura's face, and for a moment he felt like he was back at Shujin. All he could see was his previous so-called therapist, and all the things he went through because he trusted the man. He regretted not listening to Kotone's hunch about him, even if neither of them could have possibly known what would happen.

"You don't have to go into detail right now," Doctor Sonomura reassured him. She opened another drawer of her desk and started rifling through it again. "In the meantime, I have a few questionnaires you can fill out. Don't worry, they won't ask anything too personal either. They're just to give me an idea of what you might be dealing with."

She slid them over and Jou gave them a quick glance over. The questions were fairly generic, like she said. But he paused as he looked at what they claimed to be for. He frowned and glanced from the papers to Doctor Sonomura.

"'Diagnostic criteria for... anxiety, depression, and... PTSD'?" Morgana's ears flicked back and forth as they read through the papers themself. "Is there a reason you're giving us these in particular?"

"I'll admit it's maybe a little presumptuous," Doctor Sonomura admitted sheepishly, "but just call it an... educated guess. Answer as much as you feel comfortable with and feel free to ask for clarification on anything that you find confusing."

He spent the rest of the hour filling out the questionnaires, with Morgana occasionally correcting him on some details. Mostly details about his self-care habits... or lack thereof. Doctor Sonomura seemed to find their interactions amusing, at the very least.

"I think I see why you'd want Morgana to act as a service animal," she remarked. "You're very attentive!"

"Of course!" Morgana said, puffing out their chest. "It's my job to look after this guy, after all. He'd be utterly lost without me!"

Jou chuckled and scratched Morgana behind the ear. They weren't exactly wrong.

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing you're here to look out for him."

Jou handed the finished questionnaires over to her, and she gave them a quick look over. "Okay, I'll go over these and we'll go from there. Would you like to come back same time next week?"

Jou hesitated, looking a little uneasy. "It's a three-hour trip one way."

"Oh," Doctor Sonomura looked sympathetic. "Then, maybe in two weeks?"

"Sure, thank you."

"Okay, two weeks from now it is! Call me if you have any concerns between now and then."

Once Jou got outside again, he felt his entire body relax. He hadn't realized just how tense the encounter had made him feel. A therapist with a Persona... he was going to have to keep his guard up around her. But maybe this would go better than last time. He hoped it would go better than last time.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and let Futaba know she could turn her bugs back on. It was rude to record someone else's therapy sessions, after all. Once that was out of the way, he switched over to his GPS and charted the path back to the train station. He planned on heading straight home from here. Next time he'd probably use his teleportation app, but this time around he wanted to at least attempt to familiarize himself with the route.

#!drabbles #!long post #((tfw you realize one of the characters from the original Persona canonically became a therapist))#((and decide to do something with that information))

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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 years

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The Leithian Reread - Canto VII (Beren and Finrod at Tol-in-Gaurhoth)

As a starting thought, I’m seeing a similarity between the roles of Aragorn in The Lord of the Rings and Finrod in the Leithian. They’re both kings and the sort of people you would expect as the protagonist of a mythic epic, but they’re both willing to become essentially sidekicks in someone else’s story. Aragorn doesn’t die, of course, but that’s mainly the luck - or Providence - of arriving at the Black Gate just when Frodo reaches Mount Doom, rather than a couple days earlier. (Hm, and when you consider the Palantír, they’ve both also had psychic duels with Sauron, though Aragorn’s goes considerably better. I think Finrod would actially like this; I think, even seven thousand years later, he’d still be invested in the fate and doings of the House of Beör. And hey, via Celebrien [Finrod’s niece, Aragorn’s mother-in-law], they’re related! I expect he’d like that as well.)

Returning to the actual subject of the chapter. The first canto, about the journey north of Beren and Finrod and the Ten, has already sent me on another tangent. They went north via Ivrin (the headwaters of Sirion). That’s approximately where Túrin crosses the mountains into Dor-lómin after the Fall of Nargothrond, so the mountains, while challenging, are passable - and at the moment it’s late summer or early fall. Why not cross the mountains, go through Hithlum and then cross the mountains again to the east, bypassing Tol-in-Gaurhoth’s surveillance entirely? It would have been longer, but safer; a few more months seem like a reasonable price for less chance of capture. There’s even the possibility of reinforcements from the Nolofinwëans. But perhaps Finrod wasn’t confident that Fingon would be particularly on board with this endeavour? Being betrayed by most of the people you know is going to leave a mark.

At any rate, the group do have decent tactics and they do plan ahead. They wait for an orc-band, kill them rapidly, and dress as orcs. Again reminiscent of Frodo and San infiltrating Mordor - no wonder Sam kept thinking of the Leithian! - except that Finrod’s magic gives them a more sophisticated disguise where they actually look like orcs. And Tol-in-Gaurhoth was, not long ago, Tol Sirion, just as Minas Morgul was once Minas Ithil. (FFS, people, destroy your fortifications when you retreat! If most sci-fi and fantasy stories are object lessons in why not to have a self-destruct, Tolkien’s works are object lessons in why to have one.)

And here’s an indication that, while Sauron is called Thû in this version, he’s definitely still intended to be Sauron:

Now in that hill was the abode

of one most evil; and the road

that from Beleriand thither came

he watched with sleepless eyes of flame.

Immediately after that there’s a reference to Sauron’s corruption of the Númenoreans and of many of the men of Middle-earth, so yep, it’s definitely him.

One of my areas of curiosity here is what Sauron’s monster’s actually are:

In glamoury

that necromancer held his hosts

of phantoms and of wandering ghosts

of misbegotten or spell-wronged

monsters that about him thronged

Some of them are doubtless lesser Maiar. But ‘phantoms and wandering ghosts’ sond more like the spirits of elves (and perhaps men), in line with this bit from Laws and Customs of the Eldar, that “some [of the spirits of dead elves that refuse to go to the Halls of Mandos] were enslaved by the Dark Lord...To attempt to master them and to make them servants of one’s own will is wickedness. Such practices are of Morgoth; and the necromancers are of the host of Sauron his servant”, and also that Sauron and his servants were able to possess elves and men, and gain control of their bodies by ejecting or possesing their spirits.

Philosopher at Large, in The Leithian Script, also has the deeply creepy idea that some of Sauron’s werewolves are the spirits of elves who refused the summons of Mandos and accepted Sauron’s offer of being given wolf-bodies rather than remaining houseless. I waver between this idea and the idea of the werewolves being corrupted Maiar of Oromë, once akin to Huan.

For “spell-wronged” monsters, I think of regular animals - bears, wolves, and such - that have been corrupted in the same way that orcs are rumoured to be corrupted elves. These would be less powerful than Maiar or spirits, but still dangerous.

Back to Beren, Finrod, and the Ten! Their disguise doesn’t work, as their deliberate attempts to stay as far from Tol-in-Gaurhoth as possible are uncharacteristic of orcs. An interesting element of their conversation is that they start out by describing what actually happened - “Thirty we slew and theur bodies threw in a dark pit” - just without mentioning that they’re elves and the people they killed were orcs. This could be part of a general elven disinclination to lying, or it could be because it’s easier, when being interrogated by someone with psychic powers, to tell a story that has a seed of truth.

Sauron seems to have already guessed some of what’s going on, as he immediately asks them about Nargothrond, and this is where things fall apart, because our heroes are lamentably terrible at covert ops and feel the need to correct Sauron when he says Celegorm’s running Nargothrond. You’re being interrogated! Providing Sauron with accurate information on your internal politics is not necessary in this situation! If your enemies have bad intel on you, that’s a good thing! (Of course, in this case Sauron’s actually accurate, in terms of the de facto rather than de jure situation.) You just said you hadn’t been near Nagothrond! Of course Sauron immediately jumps on this obvious error, and from that point on it becomes even more clear that he’s just playing with them.

And so we move to the duel of Felagund and Sauron. The end of it, with Sauron’s invocation of the Kinslaying being the turning point, strikes me as very important. I don’t think there are any circumstances in which the exiled Noldor - in the Leithian, in the Fifth Battle, or at any other time - could have succeded at retrieving the Silmarils from Angband. Alqualondë is the original sin of their whole endeavour to regain the jewels - murdering kin and stealing their treasure in the name of avenging murder and the of the Noldor’s own treasure - and all of them who were willing to use the boats are complicit in it, even the Arafinwëans who weren’t part of the fighting. Something fundamental in the universe is not going to reward that choice with success. Instead, it’s Beren and Lúthien - who have no connection to the Silmaril, who don’t seek it in and of itself but only out of love for each other and desire to be together - who succeed. Finrod’s choice to go with Beten is important less in terms of what it achieves than what it means and communicates: that the lives of elves, though far longer than those of men, are not more valuable, and that the death of Barahir’s men to save Finrod’s life does warrant an equal return.

My last note on this chapter is that somehow, even though Sauron can now percieve the elves and Beren as elves and a man, “neither their names nor purpose [he] knew”. Now, Finrod is 1) blond, which is unusual among Noldor; 2) clearly connected with Nargothrond; and 3) just as clearly, extremely powerful. Which should by itself make his identity obvious; even the last two points would be sufficient, as there can’t be an overabundance of elves who can go toe-to-toe with a. aia of Sauron’s power. So either Sauron is being incredibly dense, or there’s something specfically about Finrod’s last spell(“yet not all unavailing were the spells of Felagund”) that not only prevents Sauron from ripping knowledge of their names and goals directly from their minds, but also prevents him from reaching obvious conclusions about their identities unless the spell is broken by outright treason.

In addition to The Leithian Script, Philosopher at Large has written detailed fics in prose on some parts on the Leithian. Terrible Gifts covers the experience of Beren, Finrod and the Ten during their imprisonment in Tol-in-Gaurhoth; it is very good and I highly recommend it if you haven’t read it. The prose is a tad purple to my taste (which is saying something, as I like my prose fairly purple), but it’s also excellent and evocative, and the characters are very well-drawn. Be forewarned that there are fairly graphic descriptions of being eaten by wolves.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #leithian reread #the lay of leithian #beren #finrod #beren and luthien #sauron

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