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belphies-wife · 3 years

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What Naps Are Like With Them (Everyone)

In celebration of my first post kinda blowing up, I wrote a little something for all the characters, including Luke! (platonically for him, of course)

Again, thank you guys for all the love on my Satan Reacting to Montero fic <3 I’ll be working on requests after this.

Also, no beta we die like Lilith.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Lucifer

➼ Never sleeps, e v e r

➼ His brothers would destroy the House of Lamentation in his sleep

➼Took a while to convince him to take a nap with you because of this

➼ His brothers listen to you more than they listen to their older brother, so you begged them to behave for a few hours so that their older brother can rest for once

➼ You will use your pact if you have to, just please let this man sleep

➼ You made sure to pick a day where you know Lucifer hadn’t slept the night before due to his workload

➼ Seriously, you had to talk to Diavolo about that

➼ You both got into your comfiest pajamas and played some soft classical music for ultimate relaxation

➼ You thought about taking a picture of hm while he slept

➼ He saw it coming and had you sleep facing away from him with his arms wrapped around you so you couldn’t turn around

➼ Smart bastard

➼ If you complain about it he’ll laugh at you

➼ Hey, at least you get cuddles

➼ Luci here looks so calm and peaceful while he sleeps, it’s adorable

➼ No wonder everyone tries to take a picture of him sleeping

➼ He’s a heavy sleeper, so you end up having to wake him up after a few hours

➼ He thanks you

➼ He’s well-rested and in a good mood for the rest of the day

➼ His brothers obviously take advantage of that

»»————-　♔　————-««

Mammon

➼ Unlike most of his brothers, he actually has a decent sleep schedule (most of the time)

➼ However, if you wanted to take a nap with him, he wouldn’t say no

➼ Well, he’d say no, but then say yes immediately after

➼ “Whaddya mean you wanna take a nap with me? Do I look like Belphie!?”

➼ Blushing like crazy while complaining, as usual

➼ “Fine, I’ll go nap with him, then.”

➼ “Oi! Come back here! I changed my mind, I wanna take a nap!”

➼ Tsundere baby

➼ Obviously, you tease him about it

➼ “Jealous, huh? I thought that was Levi’s thing.”

“Shut up! Are we gonna cuddle or not?”

“I said nap, not cuddle.”

➼ Cue the pout

➼ The definition of the 🥺 face

➼ Please love this child

➼ “I’m kidding, of course we’re gonna cuddle.”

➼ Usually a little spoon

➼ Unless he’s in a jealous mood

➼ If he is, he will hold on to you like his life depends on it.

➼ More teasing, obviously

➼ If you think about it, Greed and Envy are very similar

➼ Poor baby wants love

➼ New drinking game: take a shot every time I call Mammon a baby

➼ I shot of water, I know you’re dehydrated

➼ Anyways, naps with Mammon = cuddles

➼ Either you’re holding him to you or he’s holding you to him

➼ f o r e h e a d k i s s e s

➼ Mammon gets nightmares about what happened with Belphie sometimes, so lots of comfort cuddles

»»————-　♔　————-««

Leviathan

➼ “Levi, did you sleep at all last night?”

➼ Obviously not

➼ He was up all night binge watching the latest season of “The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demo Girl”’s spin-off series

➼ Why would you even ask?

➼ “Levi, did you stay up all night?”

➼ He looked away, a little embarrassed. “Uh, yeah.”

➼ “Levi, honey. You need to sleep. It’s not good for your health to be staying up so late.”

➼ Leviathan.exe has stopped working

➼ You’re worrying about him?????

➼ And you’re calling him honey?????

➼ Are you trying to kill him?????

➼ “You must be exhausted. Wanna take a nap?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah. I guess I could use a nap.”

“Alright. We should go to my room, since there’s more room on my bed than in your tub.”

➼ Wait you meant a nap together????

➼ You’re really trying to kill him.

➼ Usually, he’d make fun of you and call you a normie.

➼ But he was currently too busy dying.

➼ If somehow you managed to resurrect him and get him to your room to nap, then you’d know this shy boi is a little spoon.

➼ Does this really come as a surprise to anyone? It shouldn’t.

➼ He’s blushing like crazy the whole time.

➼ “Levi, if you can't sleep with me here, I can leave.”

“No!”

➼ He does sleep eventually.

➼ Sweet baby cuddles you in his sleep.

➼ Wholesome af

»»————-　♔　————-««

Satan

➼ As the most responsible one in the family, he has a pretty good sleep schedule, so he doesn’t normally take naps.

➼ However, if you ask him to, he’ll agree.

➼ If it makes you happy he’ll do it <3

➼ He’s not really touchy-feely and won’t initiate any cuddling.

➼ Dude that you asked to nap because you were tired and wanted to sleep.

➼ Nah bro, you just want cuddles.

➼ While he won’t initiate any cuddles, if you make it more obvious that you want some, he’ll give them to you.

➼ Big spoon

➼ If you want him to be the small spoon, he will, but he’ll be flustered af.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Asmodeus

➼ “Asmo, wanna sleep together?”

➼ Could you have made a poorer word choice?

➼ No, you could not.

➼ This boy literally made the lenny face.

➼ “Asmo, I meant a nap.”

“Well, I suppose that’ll satisfy me for now.”

➼ You then proceeded to smack him with a pillow.

“Hey! Don’t mess up my hair!”

➼ You had to wait for him to take off his makeup and change his clothes and stuff.

➼ It’s a process.

➼ Cuddle’s tf out of you.

➼ He’ll be the big spoon or the little spoon. It doesn’t matter to him, so you can decide.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Beelzebub

➼ Takes naps with Belphie a lot and thought it was cute that you also wanted to nap.

➼ Pre-nap snack first, though.

➼ Then he’s ready.

➼ Sweet boi will enjoy the nap whether he’s a big spoon or little spoon.

➼ If you’re happy, he’s happy <3

➼ You kiss his face a lot.

➼ He thinks you’re the cutest little human ever when you do that.

➼ I’d say soft Beel, but when is he ever not soft?

➼ Not counting the custard incident

➼ He Likes to kiss the top of your head while you sleep.

➼ He definitely snores.

➼ It takes some getting used to, but you’re not gonna let keep you from cuddling your big boi.

➼ It honestly feels really safe and comforting to just be wrapped up in his arms.

➼ Equally comforting to have his head resting against you.

➼ Overall just really soft.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Belphegor

➼ You don’t even need to ask. He’s the king of naps.

➼ Being around Belphie for an extended period of time makes you sleepy.

➼ You’re not sure if it’s because he’s sleep or if it’s because he has some sort of sleep-power.

➼ Any time you cuddle you end up taking a nap.

➼ Do I even have to say it?

➼ S m a l l s p o o n

➼ The smallest spoon.

➼ As the youngest, he’s the most spoiled, so he’s really really clingy and just expects you to drop whatever you’re doing at any given time to nap with him.

➼ I mean, you’d probably do it even if he didn’t expect you to.

➼ He does this adorable thing when he’s sleepy and he sees you nearby where he’ll go up to you and wrap his arms around you and rest his head against your shoulder and just say “Sleep, please.”

➼ You will stop whatever you’re doing no matter what and go up to the attic to nap with him.

➼ Not an exaggeration. It’s happened while Lucifer was talking to you before he he was p i s s e d.

➼ It was obviously intentional

➼ But how can you say no to his cute face?

➼ He seems to be able to keep you from having nightmares and you sleep 100x better with him than on your own

➼ Softest boi

»»————-　♔　————-««

Simeon

➼ While he may dress like a stripper, this man is an angel and is pure™

➼ Anything you want, you’ll get. How can he ever deny you a thing?

➼ He can’t.

➼ You want naps? You get naps.

➼ You want cuddles? You get cuddles.

➼ You want sleepy kisses? You get sleepy kisses.

➼ Hotel? Trivago.

➼ But seriously, sleepy kisses are definitely a thing.

➼ Especially forehead kisses.

➼ Big spoon. He likes to hold you.

➼ Sweet boy loves you so much 🥺

»»————-　♔　————-««

Luke (Platonically)

➼ Purgatory Hall has weekly movie nights, and they invite you over a lot to join them.

➼ You and Solomon have a very long list of human world movies you want Simeon to watch, but the poor man can’t figure out how Devilflix works for the life of him, so group movie nights are the only way.

➼ Not that any of you mind, of course.

➼ Luke begged Simeon to let him join you guys (he has a pretty strict bedtime)

➼ Simeon lets him occasionally if the movie is appropriate.

➼ Luke insisted on sitting next to you and sharing any treats he made that day.

➼ Poor baby ended up falling asleep not even halfway through the movie.

➼ Solomon obviously made fun of him.

➼ “Looks like it’s naptime for the little chihuahua.”

“Don’t tease him!” You say, defending Luke.

➼ At some point, Luke shifts so that he’s leaning against you in his sleep.

➼ You coo at how cute the ‘lil cherub looks.

➼ Aaaand then you proceed to fall asleep as well.

➼ You woke up the next day still on the couch. You were pretty confused since Simeon usually carries anyone who falls asleep to their bed (or the guest room, in your case).

➼ Then you realize Luke still asleep and wrapped around you.

➼ HE IS THE MOST PRECIOUS BABY EVER

➼ You assumed Simeon didn’t want to attempt moving one of you and risk waking the other so he just left you too

➼ Whatever it was, you went back to sleep with the little cherub snuggling you

»»————-　♔　————-««

Solomon

➼ Purgatory Hall sleepover!

➼ Everyone had already fallen asleep, so you asked Solomon if he’d be alright with you two sleeping together.

➼ Not a good idea.

➼ You’re both settled in his bed and you’re about to drift off to sleep when this silly little sorcerer decided to tickle you.

➼ You s h r e i k

➼ “Solomon!”

➼ “Keep your voice down, dear. You wouldn’t want Simeon hearing and getting the wrong idea, now. Would you?”

➼ The s m a c c you gave him though-

➼ “Can I sleep now, or are you gonna keep bothering me?”

“You know you love me.” He grinned.

“Well, duh. But I also love sleep.”

➼ He does let you sleep after that.

➼ You fall asleep first, and one look at your sleeping face and he falls in love with you all over again.

➼ You’re so p r e c i o u s.

➼ He held you close to him as you slept, pressing soft, featherlight kisses against our forehead and nose, careful not to wake you.

➼ He’s a bitch until you fall asleep, pretty much.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Diavolo

➼ It wasn’t intentional for you to fall asleep, really.

➼ You’d had a long day, and you had been sitting with the demon prince at his palace as he told you about his day over a cup of tea.

➼ It wasn’t like what he was saying was boring.

➼ No, it’s just that you were so tired, and the sofa you were sitting on was so comfy, and Diavolo was talking so much.

➼ It didn’t help that the tea that Barbatos had prepared was especially soothing.

➼ You couldn’t help yourself. You dozed off.

➼ Diavolo continued talking, and probably would’ve gone on for a long while without even noticing if Barbatos hadn’t cleared his throat and gestured towards your sleeping form.

➼ If it had been anyone else, he would have deemed it disrespectful.

➼ But it was you, and he had realized a long time ago that he was incapable of being upset with you.

➼ “It seems they’ve had a tiring day, my Lord. I suggest you let them rest.” Said Barbatos.

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of disturbing them.” Carefully, he made his way over to you and pried the teacup from our hands so that you didn’t move and break it in your sleep.

➼ Then, he removed his suit jacket and draped it over you like a blanket.

➼ Not gonna lie, even Barbatos was a bit shooketh.

➼ He didn’t say anything, though.

➼ Diavolo kissed your forehead lightly and had Barbatos bring him the last of his paperwork for the day, which he finished quickly while remaining by your side.

➼ After that he picked up our still sleeping form and brought you to his room where he tucked you in.

➼ He sent Lucifer a text saying that you would be staying the night at the palace then went to sleep after answering a few emails.

➼ He snores loudly, but you somehow managed to sleep through it.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Barbatos

➼ Diavolo set up another palace retreat (because I said so)

➼ You had been assigned a room with Luke and Beelzebub that time.

➼ It went good at first, and everyone was sent off to sleep at around 10 p.m.

➼ At some point in the middle of the night, you awoke from a particularly nasty nightmare.

➼ You were more scared than usual when you woke up, since the room you were in was not your room at the House of Lamentation.

➼ It took a while for you to realize where you were and calm down, but even then you were to afraid to sleep.

➼ Slowly, you exited the room, careful not to disturb Luke and Beel.

➼ You made your way to Barbatos’ room and knocked softly.

➼ Briefly, you wondered if he was asleep, but then he opened the door.

➼ You silently panicked when you realized your hair was a mess and your clothing was rumpled from sleep, but your disheveled appearance didn’t seem to faze him.

➼ “Hello. I was just about to prepare for bed. Is something the matter?”

➼ Suddenly, you felt very, very silly to come to such an ancient, powerful being for help with a little nightmare.

➼ “Sorry, it’s nothing. I apologize for bothering you. I’ll leave.” You said, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“You never bother me, my dear. Would you like to come in?” He asked, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

“Yes. I would like that.”

“Is something bothering you?”

You blushed. “I had a nightmare. I couldn’t go back to sleep after that. I know, it’s silly.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

“Can I... Can I stay here with you tonight?”

“If it would make you feel better, you may.”

➼ Barbatos tucked you in then sat next to you, gently running his hands through your hair. He began singing an old song in some ancient, forgotten language. His voice was soft and soothing as he sang, and you found yourself unable to stay awake even if you tried.

➼ “Goodnight, my dear.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Thank you so much for reading!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

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Pressure

Finale to Push and Pull

Warnings: noncon sex, oral, violence, abuse, and death.

This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Life changes and you’re swept up in the tide.

Note: Alright, here’s out final part! Lee is such a bastard man.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“You left a stain On every one of my good days”

-Disease, Matchbox Twenty

🚔

Arn had quickly taken up your father’s mantle as a moonshiner. When he got home, he went to the shed and tinkered with the sill. He met with the same men your father had and even began to act like him. Quiet, terse. He ordered you and your brothers around as he emulated the dead man.

Will had grown quiet. In those days he spent at home with you, you’d noticed how distant he seemed. He was the youngest, the sweetest. When your mother had passed, he had been the most distraught but he seemed numb to your father’s absence.

And Cal; Cal was just as oblivious as ever. You almost admired how he always went through life without heed for the past or future. He only seemed to live in his own little bubble as he floated along; untouched and unaffected by the taint of Knockemstiff.

And you, you were just an afterthought in the lives of the men around you. You cleaned after them, cooked for them, and saw that all was in order for them to exist. They didn’t give a second thought to their dirtied dishes or torn trousers. They just left them for you to tidy and mend.

And Bodecker. You hated just the thought of him. Hated the way your stomach churned as you recalled that mighty heat he’d stoked within you. The feeling you knew was so wrong. How could you feel that way when he was touching you? When you didn’t want him to touch you? You didn’t want it, right?

Your nightmares were stained in your father’s blood. You woke with a start at the gunshot as it echoed inside your head. Every morning without fail. Visions lingered as you dressed; the gun, Lee’s voice, the blood seeping into the dirt. You shuddered and pressed your hands to your face.

Had it really been so long? A month already.

You descended the stairs and yawned into your sleeve as you hugged yourself in the early morning chill. It was early, the men would not rise for another hour or so.

Maybe not. You heard the crackle of a log and the whisper of a page being turned. You stood in the doorway of the living room. Will sat on the rug before the fire, bent over a book as the flames licked behind the grate.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he spoke before you could. “But I’m almost done my book.”

“That’s good,” you neared and lowered yourself beside him, “What are you reading anyway?”

“Lord of the Flies,” he marked his page, “I think… I think it’s about good and evil. If people are born one or the other, you know?”

“Oh?” You crossed your arms over your knees.

“Yeah, I mean, if we were allowed to make our own rules, would we make them for us or the for the good of everyone?” He wondered, “Because even with the rules, we do the worst, don’t we?”

“I suppose but… the rules don’t really make much difference around here.” You snorted. “Not in this town.”

“You think it’s different somewhere else? In the city? Maybe in another country?” He chewed his thumbnail.

“I like to hope so, not that I’ll ever know,” you said, “Is this about daddy?”

He shrugged. He dropped his hand and stretched his long legs before him. “All the good went with mama.”

“Don’t say that,” you admonished.

“It’s true. How many times did he take the belt to you? And why? Because you made him think of her.”

“You really think that?”

“He was nasty to all of us,” he sighed, “But nastier to you. And I can’t even be sad that he’s gone.”

“Death is hard, Will,” you touched his shoulder, “It’s hard to know what you’re feeling about it. Sad ain’t so clear as it should be. It could be staring at the wall or tossing and turning in your bed or sitting up in the early hours and readin’ some book by yourself. It’s not always a feelin’, sometimes it’s in the things we do.”

“It’s just a book,” he muttered.

“But you lookin’ for daddy in it, ain’t ya? Askin’ if he was good or bad.”

“I know he was bad,” Will said, “It’s why I don’t feel bad for him. Probably ran his mouth at whoever it was who gave him what he got.”

“Don’t talk like that,” you took his hand and squeezed, “Please. For me.”

He looked at you. The light of the fire flickered in shadows across his face. “You know, you never had to take care of him. Or us. You should got out and married.”

“Maybe I didn’t have to,” you sidled close to him, “But how could I leave my little brother, hmm?”

“I’m a man now. Almost.” He said. “Arn won’t let you stay. I know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Him and Rose from the diner. He’s gonna marry her. Won’t be no place for you here. Or Cal. Or me.” Will said. “And I’m gonna go work down at the yard. Or maybe the factory.”

“You should finish school.”

“For what?”

“You’re the only smart one. You could find your way. Get a degree.” You urged. “You should do all of that. You shouldn’t stay here.”

“And leave you behind?”

You sniffed and hung your head. “No, I’m grown. I’ll find my way and I won’t get in yours. You got half a year left. You’re too close to quit.”

“I don’t know…”

“Mama always wanted you to do something big. She always said you were special.” You said. “A lawyer? Maybe even a doctor. Imagine that.”

He was quiet. He squeezed your hand and wobbled his foot as he thought. “You should leave too. Leave this town. We could both go once I’m done school.”

“No, no, you can’t be takin’ care of me.” You argued.

“Why not? You’ve taken care of me.”

“Because that’s what women do. I promised mama I would.” You liked the idea of leaving but it was terrifying. Even if you did have that courage, you knew you wouldn’t be gone for long. And if fate didn’t bring you back, you expected something, or someone else, would. “If Arn decides to toss us to the curb, I’ll see you through the rest of the year and then you’re gonna go out and make mama proud.”

He nodded and leaned back on his hands. “I know no one else ever gave you a chance but you should start givin' yourself one. You’re too good for us. Too good for everyone in this damn town.”

🚔

When the Sheriff showed up next, you were alone. He walked into the house without knocking, as had become his habit, and sat at the table as you prepared a roast for dinner. He watched you silently and you tried to ignore him. You were waiting for his command.

How did he want you? What vile things would he do to you that day?

“When’s the boys gettin’ home?” He asked.

“Soon,” you answered as you turned on the oven.

“You got something sweet,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out an empty wrapped.

You slid the cookie jar towards you and plopped it before him on the table. “Made ‘em last night. Chocolate chip.”

“You’re always so good to me,” he smiled and you choked down your revulsion. “Too bad it took me so damn long to get here. I really wanted to have some fun.”

You turned back and opened the stove. You slid the roasting pan inside and snapped it shut.

“Them dresses you got, they really do nothin’ for ya,” he said through a mouthful of cookie, “‘cept when you’re bending over.”

“Why are you here then?” You crossed your arms as you turned back to him.

“I gotta talk to your brothers,” he said, “But let’s be clear on something, girl. You don’t ask me my business unless it’s to do with you.”

“I know about you,” you sneered, “Everyone does. Why don’t you get one of your whores and leave me alone?”

The chair nearly toppled as he stood and tossed down the cookie. He rounded the table and stomped over to you, cornering you against the counter.

“You’re my whore,” he snarled, “You got that?” He pinched your tit roughly. “Now, if I wanna, I can bend you over right now and let your brothers see what a whore you are.” He grabbed your chin and pushed his body against yours. “You should be flattered, you know? I ain’t touched another bitch since I been in you.”

You bit down and glared at him. Your lip curled but you said nothing.

“I ain’t gonna leave you alone,” he rocked his body against yours and exhaled. “What do ya think is gonna happen if I do? If I toss you out like the used bag you are? You got me or you got nothing. No man’s gonna marry a flower without her petals.”

He pushed harder against you until you could feel his bulge through his pants. His stomach crushed you against the counter. He leaned in and kissed you. You were shocked by the gesture, disgusted at how you could taste the chocolate on him.

“I really need to fuck you,” he growled as he drew away, “Fuckin’ hurts so bad.” He pushed himself from you and turned as he cleared his throat. The loud rumble of the Ford truck called from just outside as it pulled in. “Guess that means I’ll have to pay you back in kind.”

You narrowed your eyes and went to the fridge. You poured him a glass and slammed it down as the front door opened and the boys’ voices mingled in the hallway. Bodecker drank deeply and cleared his throat as he watched you retreat.

Arn entered first, followed by the other two as they chattered noisily. “...in the shed, we-- Sheriff Bodecker,” Arn shook the sheriff’s hand as he stood. “Figured you were waitin’ for us. You know, we got everything sorted with the shine.”

“That’s good to hear but sadly I’m not here about that,” Bodecker said, “Other business. ‘Bout your daddy.”

“Ah, okay,” Arn glanced over at Cal as Will took a seat at the table and grabbed a cookie from the jar. Your youngest brother looked at you as he took a bite. “What’s, uh, what’s goin’ on?”

“Well, we think we got the prick who did it,” Bodecker began and you stiffened, “Found your daddy’s belt buckle and same caliber gun. Some rat down by the tracks. Been arrested before for robbin’.”

“You found him?” Cal asked, “Well, suppose that’s good.”

“We will be chargin' him to the full extent of the law. Shouldn’t see a free day ever again.” Bodecker said. “Out of courtesy, I figured I’d tell ya before the papers ran the story.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Arn said. “You know it’s been tough tryna get everything together since he been gone but… this’ll be good for all of us. Now that we have some peace about it.”

“Oh, you got big plans?” Bodecker asked.

“House is mine now. Figure I need a wife. And the boys… well, they gotta go find a place of their own, ain’t they?”

“Mmm,” Bodecker hummed, “And your sister, too.”

“We have an aunt. I’m sure she could use the company.” Arn said.

“What?” You sputtered, “You just gonna send me away to live with Darlene?”

“What else am I gonna do with ya?” Arn barked. “If I got Rose here to do my cookin’ and cleanin’, I don’t see the use in keepin’ you around. Don’t know why daddy didn’t find someone to take ya before.”

“I ain’t askin’ you to do nothin’ with me,” you huffed, “But I ain’t goin’ to Darlene’s. I’ll go out on my own. I’ll clean someone else’s floor and get paid for it in more than spit and stupid.”

Arn snarled and Will stood slowly from the table. Cal squinted as if lost.

“Now, now,” Bodecker clapped Arn’s shoulder, “Lots to be done, lots to be done. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is a lot. Big news. I say, take some time, have some of that shine your daddy left you, and calm down, huh?”

Arn looked at the sheriff and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I s’pose.”

Will lingered by the table, his eyes never left his older brother as his hands balled into fists. You neared him and touched his arm softly. He glanced over at you, his face tensed with anger.

“I won’t let him do it,” he whispered. “I told you, we can get out together.”

“So let’s give it a day,” Bodecker boomed, “I’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll talk business and… well, I think you’ll be happier after we have all that figured out.”

Arn nodded and shifted his weight.

“You got big shoes to fill,” Bodecker said, “Gotta make sure you get ‘em laced on right.”

🚔

As promised, Bodecker returned the next day, this time after your brothers. He joined them in the shed, a relief as you worked at stitching one of Will’s shirts. Cal appeared as you held up the shirt and eyed your work. You sensed his shadow and dropped the fabric to your lap.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you assured him.

“You need to come out to the shed,” he ignored your promise of a hot meal and you frowned.

You stood and slung the shirt over the chair. You grabbed your jacket and boots and followed him out the door. You hadn’t been to the shed since before your daddy died. Your teeth chattered as you slipped through the door and Cal slid it closed behind you. Arn sat in your pa’s old armchair, Lee on a stool, and Will on the crooked bench with a space free for his other brother.

“I don’t know why she needs to be here,” Arn said, “But she is, so let’s get on.”

“Well, the only way you’re gonna expand across the county is through me, Arn,” Bodecker talked as if he were addressing a child. “And I’m up for re-election. That means we need each other. Means we need to set this little partnership we have down in stone.”

“How’s it that you need us, sheriff?” Cal asked as you swayed by the door.

“Well, my reputation ain’t exactly pristine. I need to tidy up the edges,” Bodecker leaned forward and twined his fingers together. “I’ll see that you get your shine from one end of the county to the other and I’ll also take a little weight off your shoulders. I need a wife and your sister needs a new home.”

Your mouth fell open and even Arn seemed surprised by the proposal.

“No,” Will said, “You can’t… you can’t marry her.”

“I don’t see why not. She’s gettin’ up there in years, I don’t see anyone else lining up.” Bodecker chortled.

“Because she--” Will looked at you helplessly. “She deserves to be happy.”

“I don’t think any woman be unhappy being the sheriff’s wife,” Bodecker hissed, “Won’t be no different than her cleaning up after y’all. If anything, it’ll be easier.”

“Take her,” Arn said, “Two birds, one stone.”

“And Cal, I’ll get him on the force by the end of the year. Always good to have another set of hands.” Bodecker continued. “He’ll make good enough money to get outta your hair.”

“And Will?” You said. All the men turned to look at you. “He’s gotta stay in school.”

“School ain’t shit,” Arn scowled.

“I don’t see why he can’t finish,” Bodecker said.

“I ain’t takin’ care of him,” Arn said. “He either gonna work for his lot or he can live outside.”

“Say what you want about daddy, but at least he had the decency to see to us,” you said. “You think you’re the big man now he’s gone.”

“You better shut your fuckin’ mouth if you know what’s good for you,” Arn stood and the sheriff did too. He stepped in front of the younger man.

“She’s grievin’. You know the ladies don’t handle all this so well,” Bodecker said, “I’ll see after the kid. I was gonna up my take to twenty percent but I’ll settle for fifteen if you keep him on.”

“Up your take?” Arn scoffed.

“We’re gonna be family and I’m gonna make sure none of my officers get in your way. Boy, that’s gonna mess with numbers, you get me? You can’t get without givin’.”

Arn lowered his chin and looked between you and Will. He blinked slowly.

“He got a roof till he’s done school. No longer than that.” Arn sat back down heavily, “And you be best to get a leash on my sister and quick. The sooner she’s out of my house, the better. Rose is getting awfully antsy.”

“Y’all got a date yet?” Bodecker said.

“Wait? Just like that? You’re gonna marry me off--”

“Fuck’s sake. You ain’t never know when to shut up!” Arn hollered as he reached for a jar of shine.

“And you’re gonna drink away your years just like daddy,” you snapped.

“Hmm, maybe, but you’re gonna do what I tell you and get on your back for our sheriff.” He spat, “Or I’m gonna dump you on the corner and you can see who else will have you.”

“Arn, you can’t--” Will began.

“You two can go off and see how far you make it,” Arn bit back, “I’m done arguin’. The next person pipes up, I’m gonna tar ya.”

You looked at Will and shook your head. You knew what wasn’t being said. If you didn’t do what you were told, it wasn’t that you’d be out of your home. You wouldn’t have anything. The sheriff had a stranglehold on every citizen in the county. He’d make sure you were helpless until you were forced to grab his outreached hand. You’d take what he gave you, as you had to that point.

“Fine…” You uttered, “You know what mama would think, Arn. As much as you think daddy’d be proud, you know she wouldn’t.”

“Go back to your kitchen,” Arn took a gulp of moonshine, “You got a month, Sheriff. You get her out and you got your fifteen.”

🚔

You didn’t expect your wedding day to be so gloomy. A winter ceremony in the town church with a man you didn’t and couldn’t love. You’d always thought you would wear your mother’s old gown but he wasn’t worthy of that. So you wore the plan dress from the local shop with a short veil and a pair of white flats.

The sheriff had done his best to clean up for the ceremony. Freshly shaved, hair combed neatly, his stomach barely continued above his cumberbund. This man, your husband, your jailer.

Your brothers sat in the first row as you listened to the priest. Your vows were nothing special, the same template handed out by the church. To love and obey. Only one of those would be true. You stared at the loose stitches of the veil, your surroundings blurred beyond the white lace.

You hated Arn for trading you away like livestock but you knew deep down your father would’ve done the same. He would’ve done worse. You recalled his last words; he would’ve had you on the street. Maybe this was the best you could hope for.

The room came back into focus as your veil was lifted. Your husband kissed you. He still sent a shiver up your spine every time he touched you. You turned back to the audience, his hand around yours as he led you between the rows of strangers. Your brothers were the only familiar faces though they were hardly welcome.

Arn had quickly taken up your father’s part in mistreating you, Cal was his mindless followers, and Will, you only saw pity in his eyes. Bodecker guided you between the pews and the doors open to the frigid winter afternoon. He ushered you to the waiting car and was quick to climb in behind you. There would be a dinner awaiting you at town hall; a whole room rented out for the occasion.

“So,” Bodecker’s hand settled on your thigh, “Are you wearing it?”

You nodded. He had brought you the lurid attire only nights before. A lacy brassiere and satin panties, stocks and frilly garners; all in as if you were still a virgin. He stretched his arm over your shoulders and pulled you close.

“It’s gonna just be you and me, honey,” he purred, “No more hiding.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” you spoke into your lap.

“Lee, or sir. No need to act strange anymore,” he dragged his nose up your cheek and his hot breath choked you. “I can’t wait until tonight. I’ve been holdin’ it in so long, god, I could blow now.”

“You know I hate you, don’t you?” You looked at him dead in the face.

A smile slowly spread across his face as he played with the hem of your veil. “Well, don’t really matter now, does it?”

🚔

Bodecker, Lee, your personal tormenter; whoever he was, ate as you avoided the same. You felt too sick to do anything but wait out the night. You accepted the congratulations of family and friends that weren’t yours and bided your time as he did all the talking. You expected your new life would be filled with these people eating out of the hand of their sheriff in hope that he didn’t swat their heads.

He drove you home in his cruiser. A strange end to a strange state of affairs. His house was large and closer to town. It was more modern than your father’s old farmhouse but not so tidy. A man living on his own didn’t have time to do his dishes before his wedding or put his used socks in the hamper

He closed the door behind you as you looked around. Cleaning was never a pleasure for you, an obligation, a ritual which kept you from dwelling on the bad. At that moment, you wanted to clean up the mess of this man’s life to keep from dealing with your own.

You jumped as he slapped your ass hard enough to make you stumble. You rubbed the stinging flesh beneath your dress and drew away from him. He caught your arm before you could go far.

“The bedroom’s through there,” he nodded to the doorway on the other side of the room, “A lot better than the car… and the coffee cups… hmmm?”

“It’s all the same,” you muttered.

“It gets better each time,” he pulled you against him and groaned. “You’ll see it soon. You’ll feel it.” He leaned in and his hot breath tickled your lips. “Go to the bedroom, get that dress off and wait for me.”

He tapped your ass and let you go as he turned away. He removed his jacket and hung it as you watched his back. You looked at the door. Where would you even go? Your mama once told you marriage wasn’t for love, it was practical. A roof over your head. What more could you ask for?

You walked down the hallway and stopped to look at the picture. The fresh-faced corporal didn’t look like the ruddy cheeked man with the wrinkle above his brow. Even in black and white, his eyes seemed brighter then. You tore yourself away and found the bedroom at the end.

You supposed you were different too. Different from yesterday, different from a month ago, a year ago, ten years ago. So much could change in so little time.

You reached back and unhooked the top of your dress. You struggled to undo each button along your spine as the fabric drew taut across your stomach. A week ago, the dress had seemed looser, same with much of your wardrobe.

You shimmied out of the dress and folded it over the walnut dresser. You looked down at yourself and the underwear better fit to the racy scenes in the theatre. You didn’t dress like this. You weren’t Marilyn or Elizabeth. You were just you and you were entirely out of place.

You slipped out of your shoes and unpinned your veil. The ring on your finger chafed your skin. You sighed and turned to sit on the bed. It bounced beneath you as you toyed with the diamond. Say what you would of the man, it had all been adequate. More than.

“You look good,” Bodecker said and you raised your head as he entered. He began to undress as he strutted across the room. “Wife.”

He unbuttoned his shirt as he neared the bed. He looked down at you with a smirk as his bowtie hung loose from his neck.

“You know what would happen if I didn’t marry you?” He pulled his tails loose and wiggled out of the shirt. He tossed it away with his tie, his stomach poking out slightly from his undershirt. “I mean, you could have my bastard inside you right now. You think anyone else wants it?”

Your eyes widened and your lashes fluttered. You bunched up the blankets in your hand as you teetered on the edge of the bed. You shook your head.

“You see, unlike all those whores, you got more than what’s between your legs,” he unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. “You work, real hard. And despite yourself, you’ll always need someone to take care of.”

He reached into his underwear and rubbed himself before pulling out his cock. You closed your eyes as he groaned and reached out to caress your cheek.

“Open your mouth, honey,” he purred. “Let me show how a wife serves her husband.”

You hesitated and he gripped your chin. He squeezed, a warning, and you opened up. He pressed his tip against your lips and pushed so that you let him in. His skin was salty and warm as it slid over your tongue. He hit the back of your throat and your eyes welled.

“Mmm mm mm,” he hummed, “That is good. Come on… just a little--”

He grunted as he forced himself down your throat. You choked and he shuddered as his hands held your head firmly. He moved his hips carefully. He slid back and slammed back in. Your eyes rolled back and you tried not to gag as he repeated the motion, each thrust harder than the last.

“Fuck, girl, I love that mouth,” he cooed, “Now it’s all mine.”

He pulled you forward as he pushed himself as deep as he could. He jerked into you even harsher than before and you grabbed the top of his pants. He dragged you off the bed and you fell to your knees. He fucked your face and shoved your head back against the mattress. He planted a hand on the bed and hammered into you over and over. Slobber spilled down your chin and you slapped helplessly against his thigh.

“Fucking take it,” he growled.

Your vision began to spot as you went limp and he stopped suddenly, halfway down your throat. He snarled and slipped out of your mouth and let you drop to the floor. You leaned forward as you coughed and his belt jingled as he stripped off his pants.

He stepped past you and climbed onto the bed. He fell heavily on his back as you looked up and bent his hands behind his head. His cock stood, glistening, and he grinned.

“Better climb on, girl,” he said, “We ain’t done yet.”

You grabbed the edge of the bed and pulled yourself up. One knee, then the other, you crawled over to him. It was the first time you’d seen him entirely naked. You stood shakily and reached to the top of the satin panties.

“Ah,” he tutted, “Just pull ‘em to the side.”

Your brows drew together but you didn’t argue. Your only hope was to bide him until you were on your own. Make yourself numb to his company and you could reward yourself in your solace.

You got down on your knees and reached between your legs. You took him in one hand and pushed your panties aside with other. You paused as his tip prodded at your entrance then lowered yourself onto him. You withdrew your hands and the satin was taut around the side of his shaft. You stilled and tried to adjust to the fullness.

“Well, come on,” he grabbed your hips and tilted them, “Move.”

You carried the rhythm and rocked atop of him. Your crumpled panties rubbed against your clit and added to the storm brewing in your core. His hands swept up your sides and he cupped your tits through the lace bra. His thumbs rubbed your barely concealed nipples and he groaned.

“Shit, it’s so good, honey. So good.” He moved his hips beneath you, “Faster.”

You obeyed and he tugged down the cups the brassiere. He pushed his head into the pillow and gritted his teeth. He grabbed your sides and pulled you to bend over him. He nuzzled your titts and nipped at the tender flesh. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked as you kept your hips moving.

His hands skimmed over your curves and he gripped your hips. He pulled your ass down harder and you flesh clapped against his loudly. He turned his head away as your breast hung over him and you sped up. You were close. So close.

“I’m gonna cum,” he rasped, “I’m gonna--”

You threw back your head and cried out as you orgasmed first. You dug your nails into his arm as you fucked him through your climax and felt him burst inside of you. That joy, that second of joy, was enough to forget, a spark of happiness before it all came back.

You slowed and stilled atop him, out of breath. You sat up, the straps of your bra sagging down your shoulders as he tickled your thighs.

“You know,” he poked his finger between your legs and flicked your overwrought clit. You twitched and he chuckled. “I can’t wait til you got my child inside of you. Seein’ you all big. I’m still gonna fuck you.” His other hand rubbed your stomach, “If you’re anything like your mama, we’ll have a whole herd of our own.” He licked his lips as he took your hands and placed them on his chest. “But you remember, your husband always comes first.”

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #dark!lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #the devil all the time #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #short series #series #push #pull

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

Note

Prompt- Nyx tickles Rhys in front of all the hewn city members. (Rhys is very ticklish)

A Visit to Hewn City

Fluff//1565 words

“You are not taking our child to Hewn City. Absolutely not.” Feyre’s arms were crossed and she had an obstinate look in her eyes.

Rhys just smirked. “Fine. You can take him with you to your art classes.”

Feyre winced, likely remembering the last time that had happened. Nyx had gotten into a bucket of paint, smeared his hands all over the wall in a desperate attempt to get it off, then started crying. “I’ll stay home today.”

“I thought you were short-staffed.” Rhys knew exactly how this conversation would end from the sigh that escaped his mate’s lips.

“Can’t you go to Hewn City another day?” Feyre asked in a last-ditch attempt to keep her son away from there.

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “We’ve both already rescheduled the last few dates we were meant to go. Keir was annoyed enough as it is to hear that only one of us could come today.”

“We could get a babysitter—”

“Mor is off being our emissary. Cassian and Nesta are in the mountains. Azriel’s on a mission. All of our other friends are busy in some way. Do you trust our son with a stranger?”

Feyre squeezed her eyes shut. “I know you won’t let anything happen to him, I just don’t want Nyx in that environment.”

Rhys gaze softened. “I know, darling. I understand. If you really don’t want me to—”

“No,” Feyre cut him off. “I trust you.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and tried for a smile. “Just think of the look on Keir’s face when you show up with a baby. He only found out about Nyx during out last visit, yes?”

Rhys’ lips twitched. “Indeed. I imagine he’ll be rather surprised. And hopefully annoyed too. My dear uncle deserves a bit on trouble every now and then, don’t you think?”

Feyre grinned. “Absolutely. I need to go now.”

Rhys gave Feyre a peck on the cheek. “Have fun.”

Feyre returned the sentiment and winnowed away.

Rhys gathered Nyx in his arms, ready to head off to his meeting. And really, he was the most powerful high lord Prythian had ever seen. Only Feyre’s power rivaled his own. How hard would it be to keep a baby under control for a few hours?

—

As predicted, the look on Keir’s face was absolutely priceless. Rhys winnowed nearby, then strutted into the throne room with a baby in his arms. Of course a few residents of Hewn City dropped their goblets at the sight.

Keir, though… he looked absolutely enraged. The first glimpse of his distantly related grand-nephew did not seem to meet his standards.

Rhys just grinned at him and kept walking. Passing occupants of the Court of Nightmares, who were all scrambling to bow, seemed to please Nyx. He was reaching out of Rhys’ arms at everyone they walked by, excited to meet new people.

Rhys made it to the two thrones and took a seat in his own. Nyx settled on his lap, cooing.

“You brought the newborn,” Keir commented. His voice was strained.

Rhys just smiled. “I hope you don’t mind. Your High Lady is busy today. Subjects, may I present my son, Nyx.”

The whole room seemed to collectively take a breath, processing the situation. They clearly hadn’t been expecting a baby to appear in their domain.

Ignoring the silence, Rhys turned to Keir once more. “Any important updates?”

Keir was still frowning at Nyx. “Everything has been as it usually is. We only need to discuss how to calm down some residents who have gotten a bit worked up about some issue or other.”

Rhys, accustomed to the vague references to his people, wasn’t bothered by the lack of willingness to share. He was, however, bothered by the way Keir scowled at Nyx throughout this little speech. Even now, his eyes were on the baby who was currently pulling at Rhys’ hand.

“Do you have an issue with the presence of my child, Keir?” Rhys’ voice was icy.

Keir’s eyes snapped to Rhys. “He has wings.”

Trying to keep from throttling the male in front of his son, Rhys kept his tone even. He noticed the whole room tense at his words. “Does that matter?”

Keir frowned. “Being commanded by an Illyrian and his bastard Illyrian friends was bad enough. Now the child?”

Rhys wanted to use his power on the man. He’d done it before. Feyre had as well. But with Nyx there… absolutely not.

Instead, Rhys smiled. “I’m glad you’re pleased with him. Now go fetch some wine for me.”

Keir tensed, debating whether to argue, as he’d done many previous times. But something hard in Rhys’ eyes had the male scampering away.

Nyx seemed totally oblivious to the encounter. He gave his small wings a flap and scooted on Rhys’ lap. A string of babbled baby language left his mouth.

Rhys smiled fondly at the boy. “Hello, son.”

The entirety of Hewn City was watching their high lord coo at his baby, but Rhys paid them no mind. He wasn’t going to be cold and ruthless in front of Nyx.

Keir reappeared with the wine and Rhys took the goblet, not bothering to thank him. Then he dismissed Keir with a wave of the hand and went back to playing with his son.

—

Rhys wasn’t meant to be at Hewn City for long. After a couple of hours, Rhys had the small issue Keir had mentioned sorted out. He’d also entertained the court for as long as his lordly duties required.

Ready to leave, Rhys tried to scoop up Nyx, who had crawled over on Feyre’s empty throne. The baby managed to get Rhys back on his own seat and clung to his tunic, babbling.

“Now, Nyx, it’s time to leave,” Rhys said in a gentle voice, much of the court still watching curiously. They certainly had a very long attention span.

Nyx remained uncooperative. He tried to climb up Rhys’ shirt. In the process, his little baby fingers dug into Rhys’ side.

Rhys let out a startled laugh.

Pleased with the reaction, Nyx repeated the movement.

Prepared and trying to hold it in, Rhys lasted a few seconds before laughing once more. The entire court was staring at them now, entirely unsure of how to react to seeing their high lord being tickled. Keir was glaring with disapproval from the sidelines.

Nyx didn’t let up, surprisingly strong for a baby. Rhys had a bit of a laughing fit while trying—and failing—to corral his son.

Not sure if he’d be able to pick up the rascal and make it out the door, Rhys just smiled at the Court of Nightmares and said, “Your High Lady and I will visit next month. Be on your best behavior.” Then he winnowed away, hoping he didn’t sound as embarrassed as he was feeling.

Gods, Rhys’ face felt warm. He was blushing. Maybe they’d blame it on the wine.

Having appeared in his home, Rhys straightened and stepped toward the bedroom door, hoping to make inside before Feyre caught him. Nyx, still unused to winnowing, clapped his hands excitedly at the change in scenery.

“What did you do?”

Rhys slowly turned. “Do?”

Feyre had her arms crossed. She didn’t look particularly angry; she only seemed curious as to why her unflappable mate was blushing and trying to sneak into their bedroom.

“Did he get into trouble?”

“He was on his best behavior, actually. You shouldn’t be so doubtful toward him, darling. It hurts his feelings.”

Feeling entirely unhurt, Nyx hiccuped and reached for his mother. Feyre lifted him out of Rhys’ arms, rolling his eyes at the pathetic attempt at a deflection.

“What did you do then?”

Rhys winced. “Why do you think anything happened at all?”

Feyre impatiently knocked at her mate’s mental shields, not trusting a word that came out of his mouth. Reluctantly, Rhys lowered them, allowing Feyre full access to his mind.

After witnessing the day’s events, Feyre burst out laughing. “Oh, gods.”

Rhys pouted. “Stop that.”

“Being tickled by a baby in the middle of the Court of Nightmares. How will you ever look them in the eye again?” Feyre managed between laughs.

Rhys sighed. “I won’t. You’re on permanent Hewn City duty.”

Feyre smiled. “Right. Gods, I need to go tell Mor.”

Rhys’ eyes widened. “You need to do no such thing!”

“And Cassian. He’ll never let you live it down.” Feyre was fighting a smile.

Rhys crossed his arms. “Think of the child. What would poor Nyx think of his mother bullying his father so terribly?”

Feyre grinned. “He seems rather pleased with himself, actually.” Indeed, Nyx was stretching his lips, smiling toothlessly, tugging on Feyre’s sleeve.

Rhys sighed. “Oh, well. I think I’ve about given up on dignity at this point.”

Feyre smiled fondly at her husband. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Rhys guided his wife to the bedroom so that she could set down Nyx and let him play.

Upon asking how her day was, Rhys discovered she’d had a great time with her students, teaching some newbies how to mix the colors.

Despite the lingering embarrassment, Rhys was no longer upset about what had occurred in Hewn City. After all, a little bit of sheepishness was definitely worth seeing the look on Keir’s face. Maybe he’d bring Nyx with them again next time.

———

Tag List:

@feysand-loml

@aelin-bitch-queen

@story-scribbler

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

#feysand #baby nyx #acotar #a visit to hewn city #my writing

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lucemferto · 3 years

Text

I wrote that Wilbur scene I talked about yesterday. I don't know if I captured any of the characters' voices, but I tried. It's around 1,800 words.

Sorry to spoil the surprise, but this scene has a twist!

„I’m not joining you.“

Wilbur’s eyes grew narrow. His cold gaze lingered on Tommy’s face. The boy’s expression was resolute; unwavering.

But there was this slight twitch in the left corner of his mouth. Just the faintest quiver in his lips. A weakness to be exploited.

“This burger van …” Tommy hesitated “… it’s just history repeating itself. It will end with us hurting people again …”

“’With us hurting people’?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

As he stepped closer, all the determination that Tommy had projected seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye. Wilbur gave him a wide smile – a thinly-veiled threat behind the appearance of affability.

“Tommy, we never hurt anyone! L’Manburg was a grand old time, Tommy, don’t you remember? Me as president; you as—”

“Maybe it wasn’t, Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s smile faltered. A glower displaced his once outwardly cheery disposition.

“You’re not making sense.”

“I’m not making sense?!” Tommy raised his voice, a blustering anger flaring up and painting over the insecurities that had been so apparent just moments before. “The presidency killed you, Wilbur! And it almost killed Tubbo! I can’t let that—”

“Tubbo?!” A hoarse laugh escaped Wilbur’s throat; more like the angry bellowing of a rabid dog. “Why the fuck should we care about Tubbo?! He betrayed us, Tommy!”

“T-That’s not true!”

Wilbur stepped closer; Tommy took a step back – but the walls of the van were already pressed up against his back. The older man was towering over him, casting him in shadow. A wild and manic energy was glinting in his eyes, bloodshot and red like sundown soon giving way to a dark night.

“He fucking teamed with the enemy, Tommy! What else would you call that?!”

“He still cares—”

Wilbur’s hand shot forward. Like the maw of an angry serpent, it closed itself around Tommy’s throat. All colour drained from the boy’s face – his complexion like that of a corpse.

“Don’t you fucking get it, Tommy?!” Little droplets of spittle rained on Tommy’s skin as Wilbur’s face inched ever closer to his. “Tubbo doesn’t care; he never cared! You were just a fucking tool to him, Tommy! Someone he could use and throw away once you were no longer useful!”

Wilbur’s dirty fingernails burrowed themselves into Tommy’s neck – soon trails of red were trickling down into the boy’s shirt.

“I’m the only who cares, Tommy! I’m the only one who ever cared about you!”

“Wilbur! Y-you’re hurting me!”

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy! I don’t ca—”

“STOP!”

The scene halted; as though time had frozen. A figure emerged from the darkness of the burger van.

It was Wilbur.

Though he and the Wilbur currently choking Tommy looked almost identical upon first glance, there were some striking differences: Gleaming red eyes contrasted against tired brown ones; demonic intensity against a dull exhaustion. The first Wilbur seemed almost unnaturally tall and imposing as he towered over Tommy; the second Wilbur carried himself smaller, more guarded.

“I d-don’t …” For a moment the voice of the second Wilbur seemed to falter; but soon he snapped back to a more confident bearing; all insecurity obscured behind a steadfast façade. “No more!”

A deafening silence fell upon the van. Then, slowly, as though unattached from his neck, Tommy’s head turned to Wilbur. Brilliant blue gave way to a searing crimson; fear to a wide, sharp-teethed grin.

“Whaaaat? You don’t enjoy the little play I put on just for you? And I thought you’d be impressed with all the cool ghost shit I can do now.”

With a sickening ratch, two horns ripped through Tommy’s temples. Shadow swallowed his blond locks, transforming them into dark, slicked back hair. Murky, unkempt facial hair sprout from his skin as his once lively complexion grew grey and translucent. Smokey tendrils enshrouded the red and white T-Shirt, before it emerged as a black business suit, the bloodred tie serving as the only blotch of colour.

The ghost of Schlatt had appeared before Wilbur.

“Guess it hit a little too close to home, huh?”

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. While the illusionary Tommy had disappeared upon Glatt’s arrival, the facsimile of himself was still standing there. Frozen in eternal wrath.

Wilbur’s mouth grew thin. “I wouldn’t do that to Tommy. I would never hurt him.”

Feigned shock contorted Glatt’s mouth into a darkly comical expression. “That’s not what he told me.”

Wilbur felt something icy sting in his chest “What?”

Glatt nodded. “Yeah, it was the strangest thing. I was in my gym doing reps, snorting creatine, you know how it goes, when suddenly I hear some … some whining.”

Wilbur immediately took notice. He knew what Glatt was talking about. The lump in his throat felt like it would soon suffocate him.

Glatt didn’t seem to notice.

“The sound of some low-T beta just letting it all out. And when I go take a look, who else should I find but—"

“Tommy …”

“Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, when I turn the corner, I see this real pathetic mess just sitting on the floor, sobbing. I told him to shut the fuck up, because he was throwing me off my game. But he just wouldn’t stop, so good guy that I am – you remember how great I am with kids!”

“You never were.”

“Oh no, I was! That Tubbo-kid, he had it good in Manberg.”

Wilbur flinched – whether it was because of the bastardized name of the country he had once loved and loathed or because Glatt’s words woke some memories in him that he’d soon rather forget; he did not know.

“You had him executed.”

Glatt nodded, a wistful smile curling his ashen lips. “Good times, good times. Anyway, the little ghost-brat … he tells me his name is Gommy.”

Glatt let out a harsh, bellowing laugh. Wilbur could not share his amusement. He had almost forgotten how much he hated Schlatt’s sneering.

The ghost still had not managed to fully compose himself. “Gommy, that’s such a dumb name! Gommy … you wanna know what a good name is?”

“Is it—?”

“GLATT!”

The sound came out like a bile-filled belch. Wilbur closed his eyes in exasperation; his fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I figured … Does this story have a point or are you just here to waste my time?”

Glatt frowned. “What, am I not good enough company for you?”

“Not even in the slightest.”

For the first time in their conversation, Glatt’s face grew more serious. His red stare tore into Wilbur; almost drilled into his mind. Wilbur answered the ghost’s stare with what he hoped was a cold, unreadable expression.

But he knew that in Schlatt’s presence, there were no masks to wear. No intent to hide. That ram was the only man that could strip him bare.

Finally, Wilbur had to break eye contact. With a sound of exasperation, he spat out: “Get to the point!”

“‘Get to the point’” The false Wilbur moved his lips, but it was Glatt’s mocking voice that emerged from behind them. “Man, I liked it more when you were a little ghost bitch. You used to come to my gym actually; did some reps. Annoying accent, but damn, what a cute ass.”

Wilbur’s jaw tensed. He had enough of this.

“I’m leaving.”

With a few long strides he had reached the exit of the van. The cold, fresh night air was beckoning him; away from the smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

Then that obnoxious voice called after him again: “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. Ghost-boy didn’t have the nicest things to say about you …”

Wilbur froze. His hand was on the door handle, ready to release him from this dark, stuffy room. It would be so easy to just leave; to rid himself of this headache. He did not need to stay.

“… You’re lying.”

A wide grin stretched Glatt’s thin lips – Wilbur couldn’t see it; but he could hear it in that tone of his.

“I’m the one who’s lying? No, no, no, I’m merely recounting what 'Gommy' told me.”

Wilbur turned around. Glatt’s smug smirk was even more unbearable than he had imagined.

“You know, after he was done bawling his eyes out and blubbering like a little bitch –“

Glatt’s face shifted into warped replica of Tommy’s – big shimmering eyes and a little doll like mouth quivering with exaggerated sorrow: “‘D-D-Dweam, D-Dweam, h-h-he’— Anyway, he told me that while my cabinet was having a grand old time over in Manberg, you were being very mean to him.”

Wilbur shook his head. “I-I’ve changed. I apologized!”

Tommy-Glatt let out another bellowing laugh. It cut through Wilbur like a knife through a paper door.

“You think an apology could make this better!”

Wilbur jumped back. The fake Wilbur began to move once more. With a thundering roar, his fist made contact with the fake Tommy’s temple. A loud thud; Tommy impacted with the floor of the van. But before he could get up, the fake Wilbur began kicking him in the stomach; screaming obscenities and curses.

It wasn’t Wilbur’s voice – it was so clearly Glatt’s poor imitation of his accent. With each kick, Glatt-Tommy’s eyes bulged out of his skull; not like a person, but like a grotesque cartoon. It was a farcical display.

But Wilbur – the real Wilbur – was paralyzed. His mind was clouded with memories and nightmares; fears bloated and distorted by thirteen years of isolation

“That’s not … that’s not what happened!”

Schlatt’s piercing, high-pitched cackling erupted out of Tommy’s mouth once more.

“Boy, Limbo really did a number on you!”

With a jump Glatt-Tommy was up on his feet again – his nose bloody and broken, his skin coloured black and blue; his hateful grin revealing multiple missing teeth.

“Not that you were all that together beforehand – ‘Tommy, let’s be the bad guys!’ ‘No, Wilbur don’t blow up Manberg. If you blow up Manberg, I’m gonna piss my pants—’ ‘Shut up, Tommy!’”

“I never hit him!” Wilbur’s panicked exclamation interrupted the smear show. “I never hit him!”

Glatt-Tommy shook his head; the satisfied grin not leaving his face. “That’s not what he told me! And what’s worse, when that green guy – Dream, I think his name was? – while he was using Tommy as his own personal punching bag, your ghost was off in the woods jerking off or something. And now you're calling Dream your hero!”

Wilbur felt as all colour drained from his face. The van around him began to spin; darkness and alcohol and cigarette smoke choking even the last ounce of the outside air he could smell.

“I-I …”

Slowly the façade of Tommy began to melt once more. Slowly, deliberately. A nightmarish display. Glatt’s and Tommy’s voices spoke in unison; their echo a cacophony in Wilbur’s ears.

“Face it, loverboy. You will always be a bad guy. No number of apologies will change that. He will never forgive you.”

#cw violence #dream smp #dsmp #dsmpblr #dreamsmp #dream smp writing #wilbur soot #dsmp wilbur #c!wilbur #tommyinnit #dsmp tommy #c!tommy #jschlatt #schlatt #c!jschlatt #c!schlatt #glatt #dsmp glatt

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years

Text

The Vessel [ Pt. 10 ]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader

Summary: You go back to Cintra, back in your kingdom and back amongst the people that love you, and your two companions go back with you.

Warnings: Idek?

A/N- Although I decided to have Ciri in my story, Ciri actually does not have any powers in this one, and the reader does. For some reason, Pavetta's bloodline could not have the elder blood in it.

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

Calanthe had a tight lipped smile etched to her face; this celebration was making her feel claustrophobic and the crackling cords of the lute gave her a headache. On one side sat her husband, the King of Cintra, Eist Tuirseach of Skellige and on her other side sat her granddaughter, the blonde haired blue eyed beauty, Cirilla.

"Spare me the festivities, I can't wait to retire and sleep off all night," she muttered under her breath, her fake smile still plastered on her face, as she acknowledged the lords that bowed their heads in her direction in greeting.

"Calanthe, love, it's her anniversary, you can atleast pretend to have a good time," Eist smiled, his fingers curling around the goblet in front of him as he lifted it and brought it up to his lips, taking a sip.

"Would someone even bother asking me if I like it?" Cirilla scowled, rolling her eyes. If there was one thing she couldn't do, was pretend, unlike her grandmother and her husband, who could give a 1000 watt smile on even the gravest of days.

Eist scoffed, but was met by a glare from his wife, as she turned towards Ciri with a stern look on her face, but not one with hatred, "Ciri, when will you learn?"

"Oh stop it grandmother, not again."

Calanthe let out a deep shaky breath pummeling from deep within her lungs as she sat back, trying to get more comfortable when she spotted one of her soldiers speaking to Mousesack by the gate. She squinted her eyes, bringing her index to her chin as she leaned forward, letting her chin be supported by it. Mousesack's expressions screamed at her that the discussion was not a common one; something was up.

Mousesack craned his neck to his side, discreetly and looked at her, her eyebrow instinctively shooting upwards in inquisitiveness and he blinked, slowly striding towards him until he was leaning next to her and whispering something into the Queen's ears; Eist and Ciri watching them with their eyebrows raised.

"We need to see Calanthe," Geralt said to one of the guards at the massive gates for the fifth time, and the guard asked him for the fifth time back what their purpose for visit was.

Geralt pursed his lips shut, and turned towards you. He looked at you in the eye, and you sighed. This wasn't working. There was no way on earth they were going to let you go in unless you told them what the truth was, but you couldn't risk it. What if they didn't believe you?

"Guards, back away. Let them in. The Queen wants to see the three of them." Mousesack's voice rang from behind them and they turned around immediately, moving out of the way until you came face to face with the a man with greying long hair, although way shorter than Geralt's. He had a pleasant, kind look to him but still, he had caution in his eyes.

"Follow me," He said, his voice not wavering a bit.

You turned towards Geralt who was stiff, and alert too, his eyes scanning the man in suspicion. When you didn't follow him, the man turned and his expressions softened, "I am Mousesack, Queen Calanthe's confidant. I mean you no harm."

"Geralt, I think we should?" You asked, and he blinked in approval, his lips clenched together.

The three of you entered the palace, slowly following the man in front of you. The hallways were elegant and beautifully lit, and a faint sound of a lute filled the hallway. You slowly turned towards Jaskier, and saw him in a daze just like you had expected him to be.

"Jaskier, I'm sorry about your lute," you sighed, and he looked away for a bit, in sadness, his hands held together in front of him.

"You know? Lovers may come and go, but she was forever loyal to me."

"I'm sure you'll find a new one," Geralt grumbled next to you and you gasped, elbowing him in his side.

"Geralt, can you please not?"

He grumbled something again, but you chose not to entertain the Witcher. Instead you linked your hand with Jaskier's, sliding it against his arm until you were holding it and walking, leaning against him.

"I don't think Yennefer will take my revenge on your lute."

Geralt snorted next to you, and Jaskier threw his arms in the air, dramatically and you giggled teasingly.

"I thought you were on my side, [Y/N]. But I see that your priorities have changed."

Jaskier wiggled his brows dramatically and flush crept on your cheeks, your insides flaring up once again. Your heart almost felt like it stopped, and you couldn't bring yourself to take a look at the brooding man walking next to you. Finally, you mustered enough courage to look at him, but when you did, you realized that he was actually grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"You too?" You growled at him and he stopped smiling.

"Jaskier isn't always wrong."

"Hey! I am NEVER wrong—"

"Geralt, I supported you. You're siding with him now?"

The three of you were talking at the exact same time and Mousesack abruptly stopped, turning towards you and all three of you stopped bickering, looking at him with embarassment on your faces.

"We all thought you were dead, Princess."

You looked at him in disbelief; he knew?

"My apologies, I didn't meant to startle you. I'm, uh, a druid. I know things, and I can feel powers. The minute you stepped into Cintra, I felt your presence," you blinked, "and Tissaia de Vries might have told me you would come?" He smiled at you.

"Does she know?" You asked, your voice coming out weaker— as though something was lodged to your throat.

He smiled, and nodded, "She does. She has been waiting to see you ever since the sorceress paid her a visit and told her you were alive."

As Mousesack stopped talking, you looked up to see that you were in a richly furnished chamber but it wasn't the chamber that surprised you, it was the woman that sat nervously by the edge of the king sized bed, her fingers nervously toying with each other. Another young girl stood in a corner, excitement glimmering in her eyes.

"Your Majesty, she is here," Mousesack announced.

Calanthe looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. She glanced at you from top to bottom as though she was trying to fit your memory into her mind. She blinked, ignoring how thick chunks of tears now flew from her eyes and she stood up, almost trembling like a leaf.

"Come here, sweet child?"

You didn't know what came over you. Maybe, it was the fact that you didn't ever experience the love of a mother. Or maybe, you were going to be a mother yourself, so you knew what a mother's role was. You ran towards her, and she almost choked on a smile as you ran into her arms, burying your face into her chest as her fingers began stroking your hair.

"I can't believe it's you, sweet child. I never thought..I'd get to hold you in my arms. Look at you. You're.. grown up," you pulled back, and her palm came to rest against your cheek, her thumb stroking it gently.

"What's your name? I never.. got to name you."

"It's [Y/N], mother."

Ciri awkwardly walked up to her grandmother's side, her fingers clenching the Queen's garment, her blue eyes looked at you.

You looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Meet Ciri, [Y/N]. Your niece."

You sat back, trying to get more comfortable in the utterly soft chair on the Queen's table; your back hurt like a bitch.

Calanthe nodded at one of the lords who took her hand and plastered a kiss against her knuckles and she gave a fake smile before turning to you and muttered, "The child giving you trouble?" Her words ended with a glare towards the Witcher and you bit your lip.

"I'm fine, mother."

"I can't believe you brought that wretched bastard with you, [Y/N]. Men like those, treating our bodies like we are nothing but a fucking commodity."

She took a sip of ale, her eyes not leaving Geralt who stood in the farther end of the hall, drinking ale from a pitcher himself. Jaskier had taken the lute from the bard, borrowed it actually, and was now entertaining the guests.

"Mother, he isn't.. I mean.. I know this all doesn't paint the right picture, but Geralt has been kind to me."

"Kind? You would call a man who used your body just for the sake of having a child? And look where it got you—" She hissed.

"Mother—"

"Calanthe, my love," Eist intervened, and you swallowed the lump forming inside your throat, your eyes fixed on the Witcher.

"Fine but he needs to leave. Before I ask him to leave myself," Calanthe growled.

Your heart sank at this, and to make this worse, Geralt was right there in front of your eyes and your heart aches to go talk to him but you didn't want to anger your mother, especially when you had met her for the first time in your life.

You sat up in bed, drenched in your own sweat, your chest heaving up and down. You had seen the sorceress in your nightmare and she was smirking, holding your baby in her hands. What made it worse was the fact that Geralt was next to her, holding her by her waist, as he bent down to kiss the forehead of his child.

You swiped your palm over your face as reality sank back in and you realized that it was just a nightmare— you were in Cintra. You were safe.

You laid back down in bed, closing your eyes so you could fall back into a deep slumber yet again, only hoping that the sorceress wouldn't torture you in your dreams again.

For a few minutes, you kept tossing and turning in bed, your body churning in discomfort. You couldn't sleep.

You sat up once again, rubbing your belly, trying to comfort your unborn baby, until something struck your mind.

You decided to explore the palace, for this was your first time you had actually been to one, and ironically, this was your home. You slid into your robe, tying it securely around your blossoming waist as you stepped out of the chambers, holding just a candlestick to help you look around.

You wandered aimlessly through the palace confines for a few minutes, exploring.

It was only after fifteen minutes or so, you decided to check out the other tower. Only, you had no idea that the other tower was the guest tower where Geralt and Jaskier were staying the night.

Geralt frowned, squinting his eyes as he threw back his head, downing the contents of the pitcher in one go. He looked at Jaskier, who had a blonde woman curled against his lap, his fingers fondling her thigh. Shaking his head, the Witcher slammed the pitcher onto the table and pushed himself up.

He pushed his way through the overly drunk guests at the celebration, his only goal now to reach his own chambers for the night so he could get a peaceful sleep before the dawn came the next morning.

The hallways were quiet this side of the palace, and Geralt could practically hear the sound of his feet as he climbed the staircase towards his room.

Strangely, his eyes fell on you— you were sitting on the topmost staircase, staring at your hands, a look of exhaustion draped over your face.

"[Y/N].." Your name shot out of his lips like a prayer and he saw you look up, a look of relief reflecting in your eyes.

"Are you okay?"

The concern in his voice was like a sharp knife cutting through your heart, hurting just the right amount. You blinked, giving him the weakest of your smiles as you nodded and stood up. You were now on the top most step, and Geralt was on a step below you, so the man was just the same height as yours.

His eyes were golden, a fire lurking within his irises, his eyes although hollow and devoid of any emotion, for others, you could see a flicker in them, that made a warmth tingle inside of you somewhere.

"Couldn't sleep.. "

"Is it the baby?" He frowned, still looking at you, an inexplicable look on his face. It was only then that you felt something. When you lowered your eyes, you saw his palm pressed to your stomach.

It felt oddly intimate. It was just the two of you, in that hallway, and Geralt had his warm palm protectively draped over your belly— and as though the baby already knew who his father was, you felt a flip in your stomach.

"No, the baby is okay."

Relief filled him, and he gave you a flicker of a Ile before he placed his other hand on your arm and pushed you slightly towards the wall to step up the topmost stair, so he could tower over you.

"She haunts my dreams," you blurted out, although you didn't know why you said it and Geralt looked thoughtful for a bit.

"Mine too."

"In what way?"

Despite the crispness of the weather in Cintra, you could feel your blood running cold and your toes begin to tingle, not in a good way. You could feel the jealousy rise inside of you, and your nostrils flared.

"I see her as a monster."

"Not your lover?" You mumbled.

Geralt took a step closer, and you instinctively took a step backward, until your back was against the wall. The proximity between you two was almost that of a finger length, but you didn't mind.

He shook his head as he took a deep breath.

He smelled of ale and the forest— of nature.

"You're safe now. And so is our baby."

"Until when?"

It was all rainbows and sunshine, until thick black clouds fled up the sky, hiding the sun and it was all dark.

"I—" Geralt began speaking, but almost immediately, he fell quiet, and you blinked, waiting for him to speak but no words came out of his throat.

"What?" You asked.

"Do you regret this?"

The question pulled you off guard as you were least expecting it. Your eyes went from widened to confused, as you tilted you head slightly and placed your palm against your side, parallel to the wall and using it to support yourself.

Did you regret it?

"Which one? Having you use my body to find yourself a motive in life?" You asked, bitterly.

"Meeting me I mean."

"We didn't exactly meet in the best circumstances, Geralt," you chuckled nervously, bringing your palm to your front, your fingers hooking to his locket, as your fingers began toying with it, your eyes fixed on his, "the thing I remember, you fucked me on the Great Mount."

Geralt grunted under his breath, but he still leaned closer, letting his face dip, ever so slightly so that his lips were inclined to yours, aching to be pressed to them. He parted his lips, letting his tongue swipe over his bottom lip, as your fingers began trailing upwards, his locket now forgotten.

Geralt closed his eyes, the instant he felt your fingers run against his chest up to his neck, as you suddenly grabbed a fistful of his collar and pulled him closer, your noses now touching, and your chests heaving out of control.

"Tell me, Witcher, do Witchers dream?" You suddenly asked, your hand flying up to your head as you absentmindedly tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Geralt's lips twitched, and his eyebrows creased slightly, as though he was thinking hard. Finally, his face moved slightly, just a light bob, signalling a nod.

"What do you dream of? What did you dream of most recently?"

He blinked, tilting his head, "I saw you. You were in the woods."

You were captivated by him; frozen on spot, and he didn't even touch you, or hold you. It was like there was an imaginary force binding him to you, drawing the two of you together.

"There was a woman long time back, I met her in Blaviken."

You bit your lip hard, a taste of metal flooding your tastebuds. Why was this making you jealous?

"I think I should go." You stepped away abruptly, and immediately took a step around, your hand flying to your heart, as you began fisting your fabric into a ball, your cheeks still heated up. Your steps were fast, and you didn't stop until you were at the end of the hallway when Geralt's voice rang out behind you, and you paused, just for a second but didn't turn around, only to let his words sink in. "Her name was Renfri. And she said something to me— The girl in the woods will be with you always. She is your destiny."

You gasped at the realization, his words slowly sinking into you, settling into everywhere in your body— your mind, your senses, your heart. You didn't look back, and instead you began running, towards the confines of your chambers, for you knew if you didn't, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from falling into his arms.

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace @singeramg @historianwithaheart @miss-emilia-cavill @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @xxxkatxo @coffeebreathy @fanaticnae @kmuir1 @little-jana @pineapplemama @auds24 @sassy-pelican @bitchynicole @cavillsim @ragamuffin285 @hista-girl @oliviali0930 @introvertedmouse @madbaddic7ed @libbymouse @nerra75 @maxineswritingcenter @superawesomegeek @waifu4lifeu @funalpaca @petitefirecracker10 @marantha @vikingsbifrost @babypink224221 @jessyballet @strrynigxts @rn7rocks @theroyalbrownbarbie @amirra88

#geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia works #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill

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acklesterritory · 3 years

Text

That Kind of Love Never Dies_Chapter 1

Hey guys, Now that more voted to split my fictions in 2 parts, I'm back with the first part. I hope you like it. Don't forget to leave me feedbacks. I'll always appreciate them. Love you all.

This is for writing event @tvdspngirl314

My quote is "That kind of love never dies"

Dean x Reader series (just 2 parts)

This chapter words: ~5k

Series warning:

Angst, fluf, smut, angry Dean, hurt Reader, hurt Dean, there's some more but I hate spoilers so I insist on "Angst & Hurt"

It all started with a stupid argument at home. What was it? Three months ago? Sam couldn't remember the exact date but after years, it was the first time this awkward coldness between Dean and Y/n had started to build. He could remember the first time he and his brother came across Y/n like it was yesterday, they were hunting a very nasty creature who used to kidnap young and lonely women at night, then got them wrapped in ropes and ties on a bed in a warehouse to rape, torture and feed on their blood until the victim either died or accepted to turn into one of his kind.

Sam could remember the helplessness in people's eyes too. The pain of the victims' families, the frustration and anger on cops' faces when no one could find the criminal yet, even after the sixth missing girl.

"Sammy, he just kidnapped another girl. And I think I know where he's gonna take her. Let's hunt this son of a bitch."

When Dean was saying that, Sam never expected him to fall in love with the woman they would save that night. Well, unfortunately they weren't fast enough to prevent any harm to the girl. When they arrived and Dean killed the nasty creature, Y/n was almost dead. The monster had already raped her, tortured her … and when he felt the hunters enter the place, he drank almost all of her blood, to gain more energy to fight. So as always, Dean was up to blaming himself. Of course only in his own eyes, not anyone else's.

"Call Cas to come home. Tell him it's an emergency."

Dean told his brother when he finally could get Y/n out of those ropes. And Sam knew he was right. At that point, no one could save Y/n unless God or his angels. Maybe she was not so lucky coming across a nasty supernatural creature like that but she was lucky enough that Cas arrived just on time and healed her. However, angels can only heal physical wounds. But Y/n was hurt much more than that. She couldn't just move on from the things that the bastard had put her through. Even after Cas tricked her brain to forget some certain things, she still had bad nightmares and had this dark shade of hopelessness in her eyes. Soon, she started to eat and talk less and less. And Dean just couldn't let her go. He really wanted to fix all of that for her but she kept shutting him out… until the depression hit her. It was so bad that Cas felt the need to tell them to prepare themselves for her death. Because after all those days and unlike everything else in their lives, The Winchesters were already used to her presence around them; like the way a lonely person can get used to a wounded cat more and faster than anyone else.

"I'm not gonna hunt until I'm sure she can live her normal life." When Dean stated that, Sam really thought he was joking. But after a few days he started to believe it. Dean truly would do anything to keep her alive. From cooking vegetables to laughing at his own dad jokes in front of Y/n to make her smile. That was when Sam started to feel that they can be more than a random hunter/rescued victim relationship! It felt like his brother had finally found his motivation in life: "Saving Y/n."

Gradually Y/n started to respond to this special attention from Dean with trust and smiles. Soon they became a power couple that could motivate each other so easily that sometimes Charlie would call them out. And honestly Sam had no problem with it. In fact Y/n had become his other sister.

"My God, Dean! You're burning up!" It was two day after a werewolf hunt in which Dean had got hurt. At first it was just some scratches on his arms and chest. Yet as the time passed, more symptoms started to appear: headache, pain, fever, cold sweat, even nose bleeding and before they could figure it out, Dean fell unconscious. Apparently the claws of the werewolf were poisonous. However Sam wasn't sure. The only thing he got no doubts about was the fact that it was already too late. Dean couldn't make it to the hospital. So either Sam had to do anything possible to save him or Cas should've picked up his God damn phone.

"No. no, no, no, no. Dean … Dean!!!"

That was when Sam got to hear Y/n's helpless cry and see her true feelings. She was already in love with his brother.

Luckily, unlike typical love stories; no one died that night. Sam's antidote worked. And Dean opened his eyes an hour later.

"Sammy … Y/n?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Y/n grabbed his face and put her thirsty lips on her beloved hunter's, letting the tears stream down on her face… and then his.

"Never do that again." She begged, breaking the kiss, her trembling hands holding Dean's face so she could look into his eyes.

Sam couldn't stop his smile remembering how cute they were. Y/n literally had Dean wrapped around her little finger, to the point he accepted to teach her how to hunt and soon she was part of their team too. Until … a few months ago. After two years of them being constantly close to each other, Sam could tell something was off when Dean started to go out without eating breakfast with Y/n. Of course she got suspicious after the third time and that was when their endless arguments started.

"Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Because nothing is wrong, Y/n."

Actually there was. Something was VERY wrong. Anyone could tell that just by the change in Dean's eyes whenever he wanted to look at Y/n. Day by day he was getting more quiet and cold. Now they didn't even eat pie together or watch movies late at night. And Sam couldn't ignore his brother being grumpy or drunk on hunts, not anymore.

"Ok man, I've had enough. You either tell me what's wrong with you or next time I won't make any excuses so you can leave Y/n out of our hunt plans. I'm serious, Dean, I'll tell her the truth." He finally said, when they were alone in the impala, on their way to do their next hunt.

"She wants more."

"More?"

"Yeah. Sometimes it's like she sees more in me. She thinks we can have a different life. There's no need for any saying, I can see it in her eyes whenever we accidentally come across some family at a diner that try to feed their kids or people's wedding photos whenever we go to talk with some witnesses or whoever during the research! Sometimes she even looks up wedding dresses or kid stuff on the net!" Dean blew his anger out of his nostrils and sighed, shaking his head.

"Wow." Sam couldn't find the proper word to say but he couldn't hide his surprised face either.

"What?" Dean gave him an annoyed look.

"I mean …" Sam chuckled. "… are you telling me you're actually angry with her for imagining the things you always dream about?!"

"Sam …"

"No, really. I'm just curious. What's wrong with you, man?" Sam asked genuinely, waiting for an answer.

"What's wrong with me?! You think something is wrong with me just because I'm the rational one in this relationship; who's actually able to see the difference between a dream and the reality?"

Yeah, anyone could take that earnest speech, but not Sam. He'd seen and knew enough about his brother.

"What's the reality? Aren't you and Y/N living that dream life already?"

"What?! No. No … that's not the same." Dean shook his head.

"Really? How is it not? It's been two years, Dean. You two are constantly with and/or around each other. Always worried when the other one is in trouble and still looking at one another like there is nothing in the world that can make you happy as much as this relationship. So … excuse me if I won't buy your pretty speech; man ." Sam said, Rolling his eyes.

"Ok, let's say you're right but ... is it gonna be like that forever? With all the supernatural crap that we have to take care of … and the constant danger and chaos in this hunter life we have… I …"

"You what?" Sam asked when Dean didn't finish his sentence. He was lost in his thoughts, staring at this unknown point in the depth of the road. Finally he blew out his despair.

"I just can't let her fall for the things I know I can't provide for her. It's not fair, Sammy. It's not fair to lock her up in this dark life with me just because she loves me … especially while I know there is a whole bright future out there waiting for her."

"Here we go, the old Dean's self-doubt" Sam thought to himself as he took a deep breath before finding the best words to wake his brother up from this nightmare

"Yeah, I know but I don't think it's your call. If Y/n wants to go to hell with you instead of living in heaven with someone else, it's her choice. Not your responsibility. Right?"

Dean shook his head while his lips curved up a little to fake a smile but he never answered or said anything about that conversation ever again. He kept his silence for like three weeks … until someone new showed up: "Gary Smith". A tall man with the most stylish haircut and the most perfect teeth and smile.

They saw him for the first time at their hangout bar, as the new bartender who almost jumped in Y/n's way as soon as they entered the bar.

"Oh my God, bunny! Is this really you?" He said, pulling her in his embrace. Like she was the long time missing piece of his beloved puzzle!

"Bonny? You're wrong. Her name is Y/n." Dean said, pretty annoyed by the way Gary tightened his arms around Y/n's little shoulders, making him chuckle.

"No, uh … it's just a nickname." Y/n said as soon as the guy let her go.

"Yeah, actually the most fitting nickname that I could think of. I mean … you have to agree. She got the most cute little ears in the world." The guy explained, chuckling and pulling on her little star earring. Well, if Sam wanted to be honest, he had to agree with him. He never paid any attention to it before but now that Gary mentioned it, he could tell Y/n's ears were truly small.

"I see … So … I guess this means you were close friends?" Dean said, already hating the way Y/n e's blushed with hearing her old nickname.

"Uh … well, no. Actually more than that." The guy grinned, ruffling his own hair while he was awkwardly laughing and looking at Y/n. Just like a proud embarrassed teen!

"We used to date." Y/n said.

*oh* Sam tried his best not to let that stupid grin sit on his lips but Dean's frown and his sudden heavy silence didn't let him do so.

"Yeah. We are kinda each other's first. Like … you know? prom date." The man added, giving Y/n a wink while Dean's gaze was still locked on his large arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah. It's been years, Gary."

"I know. But believe me, bunny. you still look the same." He said, bending to put a kiss on her right cheek.

Dean would kill him. Sam just knew that. Because his brother's eyes were already burning with jealousy.

"By the way, don't you wanna tell me who these gentlemen are ?" The guy asked Y/n, giving her his softest smile.

"Of course. This is Sam and this is Dean. My colleagues who are my friends now. I live in their place."

After they met, everything got even more complicated. Y/n, the girl who was still trying to get old-happy-days Dean back suddenly stopped whatever she used to do. No more complains, no waiting at nights to see Dean before going to bed, no more effort to get involved in hunts, no nothing. And despite what Dean had claimed before, it was making Dean even more frustrated. Day to day he and Y/n were getting colder towards each other and there was nothing he could do to fix it. That was what made him even more furious. Sam already knew all of that and he still had to live with both of those grumpy faces. So last night when they began to fight, he could see this was coming: Y/n left the bunker after Dean let some hurtful things out of his mouth, just because he didn't know how to deal with all the heartache anymore. He now was convinced that Y/n didn't love him anymore. Yet the next day after drinking whatever strong drink they had, he begged Sam to come with him. Apparently Jodie texted Dean about Y/n being in her place for that night. Just to make sure that her crazy step son won't sell his soul over a tracking spell! So Dean almost begged his brother to be there with him, cause Dean believed that as much as Y/n didn't care about him, she still respected Sam and cared about him. Like a little sister and her elder brother.

So here they were, In Jodie's living room, in front of her and Y/n.

"Considering your sleepy eyes, I think we caught you at bed time, huh?" Sam asked, checking Y/n's obvious eye bags.

"Who says that? I'm totally good, Sam."

She said with a small smile, looking much more in control and stronger than before. So Sam knew it was a lie. Y/n Just had made her peace with what had happened last night. The realization۹ kicked Dean in the gut. Y/n always used to be stronger and bolder when she got hurt.

"I'm gonna make some coffee for us. Why don't you guys take a seat till I come back?"

Jodie interrupted, to ease the heavy and sharp silence that suddenly had fallen over all of them.

Y/n gave her a smile.

"Of course."

It was so fake. Her smile didn't even curl her lips completely. She was still badly hurting.

Sam swore in his head when he looked over his brother who sank silently into the nearest seat at the end of the table like a broken shell that he was too . One of Dean's hands was in the pocket of his jacket, the other formed a fist on the table. Sam was sure Dean knew it too. He knew everything was almost past saving. "Almost". Sam tried to stick to their small chance.

"So …" He cleared his voice before he put some (semi fake) hope into his words."You're … you're gonna come back home today or did Alex and Claire made you promise them otherwise?" He laughed and tried to make it funny but the truth was he asked this for Dean's sake, knowing he already was struggling to find the words … to let Y/n know how much he wanted her back … to ask her to come back.

"To be honest … I don't think I can live in the bunker anymore." Y/n said and as Dean's head snapped up to look at her in horror, she raised her hand to stop his (likely) protests.

"I applied for a job 3 weeks ago and to my surprise they called me this morning to tell me I'd actually got it."

*What?*

No one had to ask it. The question was already hung in the air. She snored mockingly in her nose. "Perfect timing, right?"

She moved her gaze from her interlocked fingers on the table to Dean's eyes.

He didn't answer, he didn't move but he got tense. Still staring back at Y/n.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked, once again saving Dean from asking the question he was itching to ask with some other words that for sure couldn't be nice.

"I wanted to but I didn't think I could actually get it and even if I did, I never figured out how to tell you. Besides, I never considered the "move out" option before..." She looked at Sam for a second before she turned her gaze on Dean. "... But I actually appreciate that you bring it up. I think now I can take the advice. I'm gonna move on."

Sam's heart dropped in his stomach when he heard those words. Because he knew what this meant. It felt something like having to watch Dean get stabbed in the heart.

"Is this … because of that Bartender?" Dean asked, staring deadly at Y/n with his bloodshot eyes. He was already chewing on his bottom lip. And Sam knew a heavy storm was on its way to hit them.

"I don't want to answer that question."

*shit*

"Why? Because you can't just simply say no?" Dean scolded and Sam could see how it pushed on Y/n boundaries.

"No. Because it's not your fucking business and it's not Gary's business either. But at least he knows his limits."

*well, fuck*

"By "limits" you mean when he drools on you just because for God knows whatever the reason, you started to wear leather jackets when we go there?"

"WHAT?!"

*Oh, fuck* Sam thought to himself, watching Y/n rise from her seat.

"You think … you really think that I …" she laughed nervously and Sam could tell she would punch Dean in the face if she wasn't a sweet, super nice person.

"How you can even …"

"I can even what, Y/n? Are we now going to pretend like I'm a blind man who can't see how you got attracted to your ex again? Did you really think I couldn't see how your hands were shaking when his filthy face lighted up by seeing you for the first time after all these years?"

Sam wanted to interrupt him or at least leave the room but everything was happening so fast.

"So what? Why and since when you care about my private life?"

"Since you stopped drinking bunker's beers just because you rather drink those crappy poisonous cocktails he makes at the bar!"

Dean was on his feet now as well. And despite his will, Sam couldn't stop his smile. He never saw his brother this jealous before. It was fun.

"Poisonous? … You … of all people, you are the one who says this? cause as much as I know, you're the one who puts dormitives in my guest's food so the poor guy gets tired and can't spend his time with me!"

"Yeah, because your poor guy is not welcomed in MY PLACE!" Dean yelled, punching the table with so much power that made everyone almost jump out of their skins.

"Dean!" Finally Sam interrupted but as soon as he stood up, someone rang the doorbell and Sam could hear Jodie welcoming someone inside.

"Guys … I know it's not my place to interfere but you two really need to sort things out somewhere private … of course that's when both of you can be much calmer than this."

"No, we have nothing to say or to talk about, anymore. Your brother was clear enough when he said he wants me to move out, so I'll move out. And that's it."

Y/n declared, looking at Sam to resist any eye contact with Dean, probably to make him even more crazy.

"And that's it? You wanna ignore that part where you were too eager and ready to accept that suggestion and leave the bunker instantly like your pants were on fire?!"

Dean retorted while Y/n was shaking her head like she couldn't believe him.

"Whose pants are on fire?" Jodie interrupted as soon as she re-entered the room with the coffees she'd made, this time a man was with her. Y/n's guy. The famous bartender.

*Oh, No!*

Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a second so the guy couldn't read his face.

"Obviously not mine." Dean hissed through his teeth, looking first at the guy and then at Y/n with such a disappointment and rage that no one could ignore.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The guy asked, choosing the worst spot to stand on: right next to Y/n.

"My typical life I guess. Nothing's new." She mumbled in reply to him but her eyes were still on Dean.

"No, nothing is wrong with your life, Y/n. It's about your choices. That's what's wrong with you. As always." Dean said bitterly. As sharp as a knife, as cold as ice. Sam could see how it drained color from Y/n's face.

"You better watch your mouth, buddy." The Gary guy warned Dean and Sam could tell that if it wasn't for the sudden thud sound that stole everyone's attention, Dean would throw a fight right there. But …

"Y/n!" Jodie almost screamed. Y/n was laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

"Oh, God." Sam said as Jodie rushed to her.

"Y/n? … Y/n can you hear me?"

As she sat next to her, Gary's fingers already were on Y/n's carotid pulse point. So Sam couldn't stop himself from looking up at his brother, who was still standing where he was. In shock.

"Oh, shit!" Gary's worried voice made Sam check Y/n's pale face again but Jodie was the one to dare ask the question which was on everyone's minds.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Her pulse ... too faint." He said before turning to Dean: "Is she bleeding?"

"Bleeding?" Dean blinked and mumbled in confusion.

If it was up to Sam, he'd ask *What bleeding?* & *Why are you asking this from my brother?*

"Oh my. You still don't know. Do you?" Gary sneered.

"Know what? What's happening?" Jodie was freaking out now and Sam actually felt the same. He didn't like the way this stranger pretended like he knew her better than them. However what happened next was much more unexpected. And … rude!

To everyone's surprise, the guy reached out to Y/n's jeans and drew his hand between her legs but before anyone could react, he spread her legs open so it could be possible for everyone to see that big red stain there. Then he raised his hand. It was all wet and red in blood!

"She's having a miscarriage." He revealed.

Sam's gaze instantly caught Dean's ... Burning. Dean was burning inside with his heavy silence.

"Don't you worry. It's not mine." Gary added more fuel to that hell with such a mocking tone, staring right back at Dean's eyes.

Now Sam could feel it. The storm was there: rising in his brother's roar!

Before Sam could've moved any muscles, Gary was already pinned to the wall, Dean's hands on his now-ripped-out collar.

"Dean, no!" Sam jumped in, trying to catch his brother's arm before his fist make any contact with the guy's nose but all he could do was changing the direction of the punch which landed on Gary's shoulder, making a painful cracking sound.

"I said no … Dean, stop it." Sam had to literally cage Dean in his arms so the furious man couldn't tear Gary apart.

"Get off me, Sam. This son of a bitch has to learn his place."

"Enough!" As Dean just broke himself free, Jodie's scream stopped everyone in their tracks.

"It's enough!" Jodie warned all three men, pointing at them one by one.

"You want to fight? Not here. Not in my house!"

"But ..."

As soon as Dean opened his mouth to protest, Jodie cut him:

"And you … you should know Y/n is pregnant with your twins. So … you'll be a responsible man who will try his best to save them or you can get the hell out of here and never come back!"

"What?" Sam was too shocked to suppress his reaction while Dean couldn't even find any words to say. His confused look darted between Jodie's face and Y/n's figure while his parted lips kept moving without making any noise, just like a dying fish on the shore!

"I promised her not to tell anyone but it was a promise under normal conditions, not this." Jodie sighed, struggling to keep her emotions under control. Sam saw the worry in her frown. Like a real mother, worried for her children. However it was nothing in comparison to his brother's blank eyes and pale face.

"Dean, It's ok. We just need to take her to hospital. … it's ok, man. I promise."

He had to grab Dean by his jacket, as his brother was struggling to process all of these in his head.

"Come on, man. We got no time. Do I need to do this alone or you'll …"

"Get the car, Sammy."

It was just a simple sentence. Yet it had enough power to make Sam's heart sank. Since Dean had put the car keys in his hand saying that, Sam couldn't stop thinking about that tone. Dean never had called Baby a "car" In years. And Sam had never heard that crack in his voice since their Dad's death.

"You ok?" He finally let himself ask, two hours after they arrived at the hospital.

"I want to be." Dean closed his eyes and put his head against the cold wall, letting the dim light to darken the shadows under his eyes.

"I'm sure she'll be good. She's strong, Dean. You know that."

He smiled and Sam looked away not to watch him. He knew that smile. Dean used to give him that, whenever everything was gone so wrong that Dean couldn't promise him anything good. Like when both of them were still kids. Hungry, cold and all alone in a rusty motel room where John had left them on their own for a one day long hunt but then a heavy snow had crashed the roads and kept them apart for half a week. So Dean had to wash the dishes and do the laundry in the motel to rent the room for another day and provide some snacks so they wouldn't starve to death. But after three days, the hotel managers didn't want them to be around. And Sam could vividly remember that smile on his brother's face when he asked: *Where should we go then?*

"You were always such a father material. You know?"

Sam admitted with a broken smile on his face.

"You were always responsible, kind and caring with me as a kid. And I can't imagine anyone who deserves to be a father more than you."

Dean took a deep breath and opened his eyes without looking at him: "But I don't want ... I really can't, Sammy."

All, it certainly wasn't the response Sam had expected. He used to believe that Dean would never turn down any chance to start a family with Y/n. Especially after everything in the world was back to normal.

"Are you kidding me? You always wanted this."

"No …" Dean finally turned his gaze to meet his brother's confused eyes. "No, Sammy. Not like this. I don't want to raise another kid without his mom. I'm not that strong anymore."

Dang. Once again Sam's heart dropped in his stomach. Dean was really helpless.

"Mr. Winchester?"

Dean was on his feet as Sam just realized the doctor's presence.

"It's me."

Sam prayed for any good news as doctor took a glance of Dean and fixed his glasses on his face …

"To be continued …"

READ CHAPTER 2 HERE

tag list:

@jay-and-dean @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278

The next and also ultimate chapter will post on Sunday, April 25. Thanks for reading.

Feedback are always appreciated.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x ofc #dean x you #dean winchester #allyswritingevent #Acklesterritory #dean winchester x ofc #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years

Text

Defence

They can’t stop each other from being hurt by the past so they do what they can now. They protect each other, their love fierce and soft in equal measure.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Thanks to @aubreyprc for reading this for me to ensure it made sense because I wrote 98% of it in a sleep deprived state. You’re the best, bestie <3

Read over on ao3 or below the cut.

Let me know what you think!

Emily was sure she had never been so grateful for a case to be over. Eight days in a small town, with almost as many dead young boys. Lost at the hands of a man who was taking out his anger at losing his own son out on innocent local families.

She had watched as the man she loved struggled with it, the similarity between the dead children and his own son not lost on anyone in the team. She knew she’d hovered, stayed maybe a little too close, but she missed Jack too. She kept thinking about the homework she had been helping him with before they were called away, how it was probably still spread out on their dining room table.

She couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel to never finish it, to walk back into a home that only had memories of the boy she loved as her own. They finished the case a little too late to fly home that evening. Aaron’s disappointment was sharp, his frustration coming out in barbed shouts at the team and the local cops as they packed away, broke down the room they had called home for more than a week. Some work needed finishing in the morning, the finilalsing of interviews that Aaron had said they would help with before they headed back to DC.

Dave had given her a silent look, asked her to work her magic. Emily led Aaron down a small, quiet, hallway and she gently assured him they’d see Jack the following day, that they’d pick him up from school and take him to see the movie he’d been raving about for weeks. It drew a smile out of him, and she had squeezed his hand, quipping that he owed everyone a drink.

It’s how they found themselves in a local dive bar, all crowded around a table. Aaron had his arm around her, slung over her shoulders, and she had hers around his waist. Any discomfort of public displays of affection in front of the team had melted away years ago. She could feel some eyes on them, cops they had worked with over the last week casting curious gazes in their direction, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The case was over, they were heading home in the morning. They could allow themselves to act like a normal couple.

Emily looks up at him and smiles when he looks back at her. She reaches up to press a quick kiss to his lips, her hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a sec.” She kisses him again, and flips Derek off as she walks away when she hears him making a fake gagging noise.

As she enters the hallway she sees two of the officers from the case. Officer Peters, a difficult man who had looked at them all with contempt since they arrived, and his partner Officer Hayes. Peters was clearly a misogynist, his defiance towards her when they’d been partnered up on a couple of interviews over the last few weeks made that clear. She gets closer to them and stops, their conversation loud enough for her to hear.

“I looked him up, you know?” Officer Peters says, taking a sip of his drink, leaning in towards his partner like he was about to tell some grand secret, but not lowering his voice. “Do you remember The Boston Reaper?” He waits for a nod. “The suit killed him. With his bare hands.”

The mention of Foyet always made her blood run cold even all these years later. Haley’s last words echoing around her head as she remembers them finding Aaron with Foyet’s body, still beating him as if the man wasn’t long dead. She lived with a little boy who had very few memories of his mother now, who would still sometimes find his way into her and Aaron’s bed. Nightmares fused with half remembered moments of the worst day of his life. The things he had overheard, but could not understand, twisting into something that was somehow worse than reality.

“Wouldn’t think he had it in him.” Officer Hayes says in disbelief.

“There's got to be something interesting about him to bag Agent Prentiss. You know she's a wild one just by looking at her.” Officer Peters takes another swig of his drink. “He’s a stern bastard, didn’t crack a smile the whole time they were here.”

She knows it’s true, she makes fun of Aaron for it herself often enough. Good natured jibes to make him relax a little, to remind him that they were all there too. Hearing someone else say it, someone who didn’t know them, set her on edge. She knew how Aaron wore his stoicism like an armour, something to protect himself from the things they saw, from the responsibilities he carried. She was there when it all fell away, when he became her Aaron, not Hotch, and it made her protective of him. Something fierce building in her chest.

She clears her throat before she can stop herself, and the officers both turn to look at her.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” She says, an eyebrow raised. “I’ve got to get past you.” She nods down the hallway towards the bathrooms, indicating the amount of room they were taking up.

Officer Hayes has the decency to look caught out, and he steps back almost immediately. Officer Peters, however, stands in her way. Purposely blocking her with a defiant look on his face.

“The case is closed.” He says, and she can smell the alcohol on his breath. Emily wonders how long they had been here, if they had been drinking since the unsub was brought in several hours ago. “Your team can’t tell us what to do anymore.”

Emily rolls her eyes and walks past him, easily getting by, and he grabs her arm, yanks her back towards him. She tries to pull her arm free, but he holds on tighter, squeezing her skin in a way that hurts. She doesn’t let it show.

“Let go of me.”

“Terry-” Officer Hayes tries to warn his partner, cut off before he can get beyond the man's given name.

“What are you going to do?” He asks, getting closer to her, making rage as opposed to the fear she was sure he was after rising in her chest. “Tell your boyfriend.”

When she looks back on it in the weeks to come Emily isn’t sure what made her say something. What made her push past the voice in her head, that sounded suspiciously like her boyfriend, telling her to leave it. To walk away. She thinks it’s down to the brutality of the case, the way she knew it had impacted Aaron much more than he would let anyone other than her know. His facade cracking when their hotel room door closed at the end of a long day, too many hours worked behind them and too few hours of sleep ahead.

Emily had watched as he loosened his tie every night, the stoicism on his face giving way to sadness and something too close to guilt for her liking. She had held him tightly in her embrace, trying to transfer some of her strength to him, kisses and words of love pressed against his skin. A loan she gave freely but knew he would pay back, and then some, the next time it was her turn to fall apart behind closed doors.

“I don’t need to tell him anything.” She smiles at him, and it pisses Officer Peters off more. “I’m a federal agent, this is assault. I’d think long and hard before making me involve him. It won't end well for you.” She tears her arm free, holds back the wince when she can feel her skin bruise. She starts to walk away, forgoing the bathroom altogether to walk back to the team, to Aaron.

“Is that a threat, bitch?”

Emily doesn’t exactly know what happens next, Officer Hayes and Peters move at the same time. She’s sure the former is trying to stop his partner, but she ends up getting a blow to her left cheek either way. She cries out, her hand coming up to her face, pain spreading from the point of impact. She hears Derek yelling from across the bar and she sighs.

All hell was about to break loose. _______________

Emily finds herself grateful that Aaron is not there when everything happened, that he’d stepped out to call Jessica and speak to Jack before he went to bed for the night. When he walks back into the bar she can tell he immediately knows something has happened. She watches as he pauses in the doorway, the relative silence in the bar deafening in comparison to the noise he had left behind.

Aaron looks over and sees Derek and Dave talking to a couple of officers from the case, Officer Hayes included, and then he looks over at where she is sitting, JJ holding ice wrapped in a towel the barman had given them against her cheek.

He’s by her side in seconds, JJ handing over the makeshift ice pack silently, linking arms with Spencer to lead him away to give them some privacy

“What happened to your face?” He cups her jaw gently, his thumb ghosting over the swelling already appearing under her skin, bruising blooming on her cheek.

“It’s ok.” She says, her self deprecating laugh turning into a wince as he presses the wrapped ice to her cheek. “It’s nothing. You should see the other guy. Derek did a number on him.”

“Em.” Aaron says, grabbing her hand with his spare one, gently squeezing it. “Please.”

She sighs and closes her eyes. “Ok.” She swallows and looks at him again, attempting a smile to reassure him. “But you’ve got to understand it is not your fault.”

His face falls, eyebrows furrowing enough that the crease she loves to soothe with her thumb appears on his forehead.

“A couple of the officers from the case were over by the bathroom, I heard them talking about you.” It riles her up again, frustration burning in her chest. “I let them know I was there. One of them was pretty drunk and he grabbed me. I got away and he managed to get a good punch in whilst his partner tried to stop him.”

“Where?” He grits out.

“What?”

“Where did he grab you?” He asks, his voice dangerous. She sighs, rolls the sleeve up on her sweater to show where the finger shaped bruises were forming on her arm. She sees him clench his jaw, the hand not gently holding ice against her cheek forming a fist.

“Honey-”

“I’ll kill him.”

Emily stops him from moving, wrapping her hand around his fist. “Aaron, just breathe. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Emily.” He seethes, anger vibrating off of him in a way she couldn’t remember seeing in years. “He hurt you.”

“Come on, love. I can take a punch just as well as the rest of you.” She says, smiling at him. “Probably better actually.”

“Em.”

“It’s not worth it. He’ll already be losing his badge for this. I’d rather you didn’t go to prison for killing him.” She reaches out and cups his cheek, tries to coax a smile out of him. “I don’t think I could keep up with the mortgage payments by myself and it would be a shame to move.” She presses her forehead to his. “I love the bay window too much.”

Aaron does laugh at that. It’s cracked, catching in his chest, but it’s something and it relieves the tension. “I always knew that’s why you agreed to move in with me. The house.”

“You’ll do too, I suppose.” She kisses him, and becomes serious when she pulls away. “Let’s just get out of here, ok? I’d like to go climb into that tiny excuse for a bath in our hotel room with you.”

She doesn’t have to ask twice, their goodbyes to the team short as they leave the bar. When they get outside Officer Peters is there, his superior officer having arrived once the incident had called through.

Emily has to physically pull Aaron in the opposite direction, she feels the tension in him build again as they take a couple steps away.

“She threatened me first, you know.” Officer Peters yells after them, his anger at Emily still clear. “This is what happens when you let women do this kind of work.”

Aaron rarely used his strength against her, unless she asked him to, but he was out of her grasp before she even knew what was happening.

“Aaron.” She calls after him, catching up with him and grabbing his arm again, her fingers digging into his bicep. “It’s not worth it.”

“She is better at her job than you could ever hope to be.” Aaron spits out, anger flowing from him. “When I’m done with you they won’t even let you direct traffic.” He turns to the detective in charge of the case. “We won’t be back in the morning as discussed, we will be leaving first thing. My team will liaise with you on anything you need.”

He walks away, pulling her with him, before there is any chance of a response. _______________

She wants to distract him, his fingers grazing gently over the bruising on her arm as they sit in the bath together. She was on his lap, crushed up against him so they could both fit. Emily could feel how delicately he was treating her. Even though she couldn’t see his face she knew he was frowning, on a downward spiral, blaming himself for not protecting her.

She links her fingers through his, drags his arm around her so he’s no longer focused on her injuries. “That was pretty hot, you know.” She turns her head to press a kiss into his throat, her fingers dancing across his skin. “What was?” He asks, and she turns her whole body to look at him, settling herself back over his thighs. She bites her lip before she kisses him so he can’t focus too much on her bruised cheek.

“You wanting to go all caveman like that.” She says, moving her lips to his ear lobe, nipping at the delicate skin. “However unnecessary it was.”

His hands grip her hips, pulling her closer to him, and she knows she’s achieved what she had set out to.

“Oh really?” He asks as his hands trail up her back.

“Really.”

She kisses him, and all other thoughts are lost.

#Hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss oneshot #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hurt emily prentiss #Protective Emily Prentiss #Protective Aaron Hotchner #established relationship #they love each other #fluff #hurt comfort #cm fanfiction #Emily prentiss fanfiction #Aaron Hotchner fanfiction #slight misogyny #Aaron shuts it down like the king he is

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awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands · 3 years

Text

Laid out cold, now we're both alone (part 3)

A/N: Hello, this fic is very important to me because I tried my best to give justice to such a cool idea and I hope I did a good job. Plus I don't do multichapter ofter, so this was a challenge.

I wanna thank the lovely @livdonna for proofreading my work, you're literally the best <3.

P.S. If you want to get tagged in the next chapters, let me know.

Summary: Nikki needs to ask a favor to Vince Neil, in order to keep someone safe.

Warnings: Major Character Death,Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug Use, Angst, Overdose.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Taglist: @slashscowboyboots @witchytombstonesmile @arnold-layne @emometalhead @i-dont-like-rice @nikki-sexx @smokeandmirrorz

Bittersweet. That was the best way to describe Nikki’s emotional state as he got teleported in front of Vince’s house. They weren’t the biggest fans of each other. He was always so annoyed by his singer, whom he considered more of a diva prince than a front man.

Sometimes Vince Neil was a stupid spoiled fucker, in his opinion, yet he needed him. What made his blood boil the most was that he had to put his pride to the side, because this wasn’t about him but about Tommy, and there was no way in hell he would have disappointed him again, even if that meant having to deal with the blonde’s bullshit.

He decided to get in the blonde’s house but without showing himself at first. He wasn’t being avoidant ( absolutely not) but just he wanted more time to think, that’s all. The first thing he noticed was how different Vince’s mansion looked from Mick’s : outside there was a big pool, in which the clear water was shining thanks to the sunny day, meanwhile the inside was mostly white and gave the whole house a very elegant and snobby atmosphere; however it was very messy too, which was a huge disappointment.

It reminded him of the singer: face of an angel but inside he had his demons. Who didn’t to be honest? Unfortunately Nikki wasn’t so lucky to get an angel face to hide his dirty soul, he felt like everyone could tell how fucked up he was.

Lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice Vince passing right through him, talking on the phone in an exasperated tone.

“I know Doc, you repeated that hundreds of times! Yeah , I’ll call Mick and Tommy and we will do this fucking conference!”

There was a small pause. Doc was probably answering back, and Vince looked like he was about to smash the phone on the ground.

“What’s holding us? We fucking lost our bassist, our friend and brother. Jesus, I fucking get it that you want our money but show some fucking mercy, bastard! Fuck you!” He violently put the phone down, only to fall ungracefully on the couch.

The whole conversation made the bassist laugh out of anger. He knew Doc was all about money, especially because they made his life a living hell, but Vince appearing concerned about his death was honestly so fake.

What? Were you saying that Vince Neil was mourning him? The guy who kept fucking up the band over and over again was sad for him?

“Fucking Nikki, real dick move you pulled there!”

Nikki didn’t wait one second before sitting on the couch and making himself visible to the blonde.

“Oh Vinnie, that’s so rude to say.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vince screamed, trying to back away but just managing to fall off the couch.

The other man couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Nikki, is that you? What kind of joke is this?!”

“Yeah. Look it might sound nuts but I’m a ghost. I’m dead and couldn’t pass through because I have unfinished business to solve.”

If looks could kill, well Nikki would have died again judging by how Vince was staring at him. He saw his face turning into an angry snarl before he started to yell.

“What the fuck, Sixx?! You die, leave us all alone and then you even have the courage to stay a fucking ghost! You fucking selfish prick!”

The bassist felt his blood boiling, well not literally but he got the same feeling as if he still had blood pumping in his body. How did Vince dare to say such things? He was the selfish prick, he was the one never caring and always causing trouble. He was destroying the band!

“I’m a selfish prick?! I didn’t decide to fucking die! I put my heart and soul in the band and you kept destroying it. Now you want to accuse me? Fuck you!”

“You didn’t want to die? Oh well, what did you think would happen if you kept injecting that shit in your veins. We are fucking screwed now, without a bassist and ready to split up!”

Oh that was funny! Vince wanted to shame him, as Nikki was the only one drinking and fucking up with drugs. Oh sure Mick, Tommy and him could do anything but Nikki dares to shoot up, oh he’s a junkie! However he knew it was different, it wasn’t a simple way to party for him... He needed it to be alive. He had tons of pages written in his diaries that could be used as a proof.

“Oh because you’re such a saint, aren’t you Vinnie? I’m the bad one, I’m the one out of control. Well guess what? The only person I hurt was myself, meanwhile we can’t say the same thing for you!”

It was a low blow, a terrible one and Nikki knew that. Rage blinded him, but that didn’t mean he had to dredge up the past, especially on something as horrible as Razzle’s death.

Good job Sikki, great way to get your friend to do what you want.

Vince’s face turned red, his fists clenched and got up to Nikki’s nose. He looked like he was about to punch him, but he had to realize it wasn’t going to happen since the bassist was not tangible, so he kicked a small table.

“You’re the only one who you hurt? What about the band, the fans, all those people you lied to and made suffer. Most importantly, what about Tommy, Nikki? How is he? Because it doesn’t look like he wasn’t hurt when you left him all alone, when you preferred shooting up instead of caring for him.”

Tommy. If he knew Vince’s weak point, the singer knew his too. It fucking hurt so bad, now he was the one wishing to be able to slap him.

“You don’t know a fuck about me or Tommy. Shut the fuck up!”

“Oh, I know all the times I saw him scanning the room around hoping to find you, all the times he looked heartbroken when you disappeared in the bathroom during rehearsal. I saw him after you destroyed him, how he still loved you even if you threw him away like trash. His two worst nightmares came true: you left him and you died. So tell me again Nikki, how did you just hurt yourself?

He wasn’t about to cry, even if he felt like a thousand legs were kicking his chest, he wasn’t about to give that fucker the satisfaction to see him crying ( he probably couldn’t even do that). But after the pain came the realization : he was there for Tommy. He was angry to forget that this wasn’t about him but about the drummer, and he probably ruined everything.

Now the hard part came : swallowing his pride down and convincing Vince. Oh, he would probably torment the bassist as slowly as he could, but eventually he had to accept. Fuck, the two of them knew each other since high school!

“How’s Tommy?” His voice was so low, he doubted the singer heard him, but somehow he did.

“Oh, so now you want to know how he is?!” His voice was still loud and angry, but he must have seen the desperation on Nikki’s face, because he decided to answer anyway. “ He’s a mess. I just talked with him very briefly, he wanted to know if it was real. Then Doc fucking occupied this phone like it was his bitch, so I haven’t called him again, yet.”

This wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, it wasn’t fucking reassuring at all… Fuck, literally anything could have happened, Tommy could have hurt himself or left the country and this was all because of him. He just hoped his family was going to be close to him, he was loved, they would have never left him alone. That was supposed to be his job too, but he failed.

He failed his sweet Tommy.

“Sixx, what are you thinking about?”

It was the moment. Even if his heart wasn’t beating, he still felt the oppressive pressure of anxiety. He wanted to run but he had to do it.

Swallow your pride. You fucking owe it to Tommy.

“Vince, promise me that you’ll protect Tommy, no matter what.”

“What?” The blonde was visibly confused and how to blame him!

“You were right, I broke Tommy and he’s going to have such a hard time. He fucking loved me, even if I didn’t deserve it, and now I’m terrified he’s going to destroy himself. You can’t let that happen!”

“Nikki…”

“I fucking love him Vince. I still love him so much. He deserves a good life, I can’t ruin him even in death. He needs support.”

“Why me? It’s not like Tommy and I are best friends.”

“Because both you and him have known each other for a long time, and when the band will keep playing there’s going to be you, him and Mick left. He would never tell his stuff to Mick and he has something else to do, which means that you have to do it.”

A dry laugh escaped from Vince’s mouth.

“What if he doesn’t want to get helped?”

“You know how to get what you want. You’ll find a way, I’d do it but I’m a little dead… look I know you hate me but I’m only asking this. Like I said to Mick, this is my dead man’s wish.”

“Okay.” The voice was so low and Nikki barely had the time to react before Vince disappeared in the kitchen.

All his insecurities came back to eat him alive. What was even the point of being a ghost if he still had feelings? The truth was that he wasn’t sure on how much Vince could help, sure having someone close to Tommy was good, but he knew his boyfriend and fuck if he was a stubborn fucker.

His boyfriend.

It was a dagger through his chest, yet it still felt warm like the first time Tommy called him that. His face always lit up whenever he said it. The drummer always made loving him seem like the easiest thing in the world, as it was even possible to love someone like Nikki.

But Tommy did and what did he get in return? A junkie boyfriend and eternal heartache, because the love of his life was dead now.

Vince came back with a beer and softer expression on his face. Nikki didn’t move from the couch so he sat back to where he was.

“I will do it. I’ll keep an eye on Tommy.” His firm voice eased Nikki’s worries a bit.

Fuck, he never expected to see Vince Neil agreeing with him.

“Thanks dude, I know you hate me but Tommy didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t hate you.” His voice was shocked and the bassist had to suppress a laugh.

Yeah sure Vince Neil, not hating Nikki Sixx.

“Oh c’mon, don’t tell me you weren’t happy to hear I was gone.”

“Fuck no. Nikki we might have fought a lot and you were a fucking pain in the ass, but I’d never want your death. I cried, you were still my band mate and brother!”

He wasn’t sure why this whole conversation was hitting him so hard. It was probably because he didn’t know how to react to the simple act of someone caring for him beside Tommy. Especially when this someone was his singer.

But did they really hate each other as they thought they did? If the roles were reversed, would he be happy about his death?

“I felt the same. Ya know, when we thought you were dead in the car crash.”

Vince gave him a small sad smile.

“Maybe we can bury the hatchet. You don’t follow me for eternity and I won’t talk shit about you in interviews. Deal?”

“Deal.” Nikki smirked.

It’s time to go, Nikki.

The same sense of helplessness he felt before with Mick, came back. Because he could pretend everything was somehow normal, until the voice reminded him that this wasn’t his place. Even if in this case it was for the best for him to go, considering how awkward it felt for both of them to be so friendly with one another.

“Vince, I have to go now.”

The singer made an expression between sad and relieved, but maybe for the first time ever, it was genuine.

“Don’t be a stranger. Send us some bottles of Jack or some strippers from hell, okay?”

Nikki let out a chuckle. Since when he was laughing with Vince Neil?

“I’ll try my best. Vince, keep the promise.”

“He loves you. You should visit him, he deserves to say goodbye to you one last time.”

He knew that, he fucking knew that already! It didn’t matter how hard he was trying to avoid that, he was going to go to him anyway, not only because Tommy deserved it but because he was selfish.

He wanted to see him one last time too.

“I know. I’m going to go to his house next.”

Vince seemed happy and gave him a small smile. Nikki took a deep breath and got out of Neil's mansion, feeling every type of emotion.

God, now it was show time.

#nikki sixx #Tommy Lee #Vince Neil #Mick Mars #Motley Crue #motley crue fanfiction #80s rock band #80srock #fanfiction #My writing #tommy lee x nikki sixx

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ifeellikeameowster · 3 years

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Raise Hell - Creativitwins and Darkside!Roman Fic

Fic Summary: After a brooding session in his room after the events of SVS2, Roman decides Fuck It! and visits his brother Remus' room. As the two brothers reconnect, Roman ends up making a startling decision.

Warnings: Roman Angst, Self Loathing, Self Deprecating, Darkside!Roman, Gore, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Innuendos (Basically Remus just being Remus)

Pairings: None!

Wordcount: 7k+ (almost 8k)

Author's Note:

I started writing this fic immediately after SVS2 so it's canon complacent until after that, where it branches off into this AU! This was before both Flirting With Social Anxiety and Working Through Intrusive Thoughts came out, so please just consider this an alternate "What If?" scenario! (Also this just goes to show you how much I procrastinate when it comes to writing whoops lol.)

Roman sat curled up on his bed. Sitting in the same position that he had been for the past two days or so. He couldn't exactly recall how long he had been there holed up in his room, actually.

The only thing he could recall was the disappointed looks on their faces, their harsh words whether intentional or not, and the feeling of his whole world seemingly crumbling down around him. It was all too much too soon, and after his outburst he had sunken into a numb state of suspension. Waiting to feel anything other than anger, grief, and disappointment. All three of which were mainly pointed dangerously at his own self like a bunch of daggers repeatedly striking where they knew it would hurt most.

Patton had stopped by shortly after he had first sunk out, yes. But Roman could hardly hear what the fatherly side was saying to him over the ringing in his ears and his own rapid heartbeat constantly reminding him it had been recently struck through. Something about everything being okay, he thinks? Yet how could Patton have said that when absolutely nothing was okay right now? In fact, he doubted anything could be okay ever again. Not after…well, after he had apparently messed up again.

It was starting to become a habit now, all of these stupid mistakes. And how could such a perfect prince as him make such mistakes? He was supposed to be a paragon of perfection! An idol for all aspiring heroes alike! The pinnacle of heroism and all that is good in the world! Instead he was just...just wrong. Always wrong. Always wrong no matter who's side he took or who he believed in or what he said or didn't say. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

But if he wasn't a perfect prince...if he wasn't a hero...if he wasn't right...then what exactly was he? What was left? Well, nothing, really. He had put all of his eggs in one basket and now the littlest breeze had apparently sent it toppling over.

Wait a minute...If he had nothing left, then that meant he had nothing left to lose, right? Which meant all of his old restrictions on himself, all of his walking the fine line and all of him staying on the right side of the fence- All of it was meaningless. It was doing nothing, just like him.

He slowly unfurled his body from it's curled up position and turned his gaze towards the closet on the far side of his room. The door was dingier compared to the rest of the elegant and ornately designed bedroom. Scratch marks marred its greyed, wooden surface and a sign was tapped loosely and half-hazardly to the middle. "Danger: Nightmare Zone. Keep out!" It read in bright red lettering.

"Keep out, huh...I must have been really mad when I wrote that." Roman glanced down to his hands, which he had clenched. "But now I'm just empty...so what's the use in obeying a stupid sign that I put up there myself?" He unfisted his hands and looked back to the imposing closet door. "What could be more dangerous in there than staying here and stewing in my own thoughts?"

He slowly stood up, his legs tingling from being in one position for far too long. He made his way over to the closet door. Slowly. Cautiously. Glancing over his shoulder as if someone was going to walk in on him at any moment. As his hand grasped the handle, he felt himself gulp. Did he really want to do this?

"…"

Well, what else was there to do?

He pushed the door open and stepped into the closet full of old clothes. All of his new princely adornments were actually being stored in a mahogany wardrobe beside his nightstand. These clothes were...they belonged to...Well, someone who didn't exist. At least not anymore. He pushed his way through dusty and moth-bitten clothes as if he was pushing through the undergrowth of a dense jungle. As he neared his destination, the place grew darker and smelled more and more of mold.

He finally arrived at another door. This one was more well kept than the last, with golden trimmings and an intricate door handle. He took a deep breath to steal his nerves before pushing it open.

He stepped out into another bedroom. This one had moss in the corners, cobwebs on the ceiling, and ivy climbing it's walls. Even still, it was much tidier than he had been expecting. It gave off more of a wild feeling rather than a dirty one. Just as he was about to take another step to inspect further, there was a mace in his face.

He hadn't even flinched back, he was so tired and dazed. Roman sucked in a nervous breath and looked to the wielder of the weapon.

Remus was standing frozen in place, his face flickering between emotions. Eyes twitching. It appeared like he had intended to knock him out again...just like last time in the living room...but something must have made him pause.

"You've been crying." He hissed, less of a question and more of an accusation.

Roman blinked, confused, before reaching up to poke the skin underneath his eyes. Sure enough, it was puffy. He bet if he looked in a mirror they'd be red-rimmed as well. But he didn't even want to see his own face right now. He huffed out in irritation. "So what if I have?"

Remus' face flickered once more before settling into a firm stare as he slowly lowered his morning star mace away from Roman's head. He was being oddly still and slow in his motions, and the difference between this and his usual rambunctiousness was making Roman's skin crawl with nerves. "Why?"

"Why?" Roman repeated after him, bristling, "Why do you even care why?"

Remus blinked, seeming to come out of his previous mood. "You tell me Prince Smarmy! You came into my turf." He rested his mace behind his shoulders and started rocking back and forth on the heels of his boots.

"I…" Roman's gaze fell to the ground. "I don't know. It's just the last place I could go, I guess?" He shrugged before waving a dramatic arm, "But if you don't want me here either, then just say it to my face!"

Remus tilted his head curiously before leaning forward "Oh, I can do way better than that, brohide." And with that, he snapped his fingers and the room flipped upside down.

Roman gasped as they fell through the air. The room seemed to twist and morph around them. Until finally, he had landed roughly on his own fluffy white floor rug. Remus, however, had fallen through the fancy canopy of his bed. Tearing a large hole through it and landing in a heap on the covers.

"Hey, my bed!" He shouted, offended beyond belief.

"Oh tough titty." Remus chastised as he picked up a golden laced, red silk pillow. He started plucking at it's loose threads. "I bet you have a ton of those ugly tent things."

"They're called canopies, you uncultured swine!"

Roman got up in a huff and dusted off and straightened his rumpled clothes. He sent a glare over to Remus as he did so. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?~" He sing-songed annoyingly back.

"Teleport us in such an unruly manner!"

"Hmmm…" He flopped over on to his back and started doing snow angel motions. "Why'd you go in my room?~Huh? Huh?"

"Wha- I- I asked you first!"

"I asked you second!!" He rolled over on the bed to grin up at Roman, still clutching the poor, abused pillow.

"Ugh, fine!" Roman threw his hands up in the air and moved to grab his vanity chair. He pulled it over to sit in front of the bed. "I just didn't want to be in my own room right now, okay??"

Remus frowned with pursed lips and sat up, scooching forward on the bed. "But it's your room, numbnuts."

"Well maybe I don't want to be near me right now…Um, wait. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Probably not! But-" He cupped a hand over his mouth and loudly whispered conspiratorially, "I can rip your head off your body and throw it to the side for you so you're not close to it anymore?"

"No that's...That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Fucking party pooper!" Remus threw his hands up then abandoned the pillow he had been holding to riffle curiously through the rest. "Do you not keep a dagger under your pillow??"

"What? No, of course not! Who would do that?"

"Me, duh! For security reasons, bitch boy."

"Well I'm obviously more sensible than that. I keep swords under the bed like a sane person."

"Wait, really?!" Remus threw himself over the side of the bed to look underneath it. "Holy shit, nice!" He rustled through them for a moment before grabbing a sleek black flamberge by it's blade and pulling it up. "I'm keeping this!"

"I would protest that but you've already gotten your filthy blood all over it and that sword is a particular bitch to clean."

"Sibling souvenir!" Proclaimed Remus as he stabbed it into his stomach for safe keeping.

"What on earth are you doing? Why would you stab yourself??"

"To make sure it doesn't go anywhere! Oh, and to test it's stabby powers."

"You know in hindsight, I shouldn't have even asked."

"Speaking of askings of questions-ing, why did you visit my room of all places? Needed to get rid of some trash? Because I'm taking if you're offering. I could always use more decorations!"

"Remus, you rat bastard, I saw that your room was cleaner than you let people believe it to be. If you did take any of my trash you'd probably organize it into the proper bins and everything."

Remus gasped and put an offended hand over his chest. "How dare you! My room is perfectly and gloriously trashy and stinky, just like me."

"Mhmm, sure it is."

A shuriken flew past the side of his head and embedded itself right in the face of one of his many Disney posters.

"Just answer my question!!"

"Okay, okay jeez!" Roman raised his hands placatingly before dropping them to grip at his knees nervously. "I, well, I didn't want to be alone anymore…"

"And? You couldn't just visit the other lamo light bitches in the living-dead room?"

"They, um." He sighed before looking over at his posters. Prince Charming smiled brightly back at him, even with a weapon digging into his forehead. "They don't want to be around me. They don't want me. Not anymore. If they ever did. They have him, after all. Both of them."

"Him. Them. Stop playing the pronoun game already and get fucking on with it!"

"He has Janus now! Thomas chose Janus! Patton chose Janus! They chose Janus! They both chose Janus...over me…" Roman blurted out. The words were spilling out now, unstoppable. He sniffled as he felt the tears threatening to fall once more as well. He didn't even realize he had any left to cry. "I chose Thomas. Thomas chose Patton. Patton chose Janus. No one ever chooses me! No one ever takes my side!"

"Apparently, I'm always the one in the wrong..." He ran his shaky hands over his cheeks, desperately trying to push any tears that appeared away. To keep them from falling anymore. Hadn't he cried enough? "I was wrong about Virgil. I was wrong with how I talked to Logan. I was wrong about the breakup. I was wrong about the wedding. Now I was wrong about Deceit- no, Janus- ugh...Everything I do is wrong!"

He lowered his hands again to dig his fingers back into his knees. Roman drew in another shaky breath, trying to calm himself after the outburst. He glanced nervously up at Remus to gauge his reaction to his brother's crazed rambles.

Remus had leaned forward to hear him better over his sobs and shaky voice, almost tipping over the edge of the bed. He had his nails digging into Roman's comforter, and Roman was afraid he was about to rip holes into it. He already had a canopy to replace after all, he didn't want to have to replace that as well! They stared at each other in tense silence for a few moments more, one at a loss on what to say next and the other trying to process the onslaught of new information. Finally, Remus let go of the comforter, slid off the bed, and sat on the floor in front of him with his legs splayed out.

"So what you're saying is...wait, Jan Jan the Banana Man actually told you his name?"

"Well, he more so told Thomas and Patton it and...I just happened to be there too?"

"Huh. Never thought he'd tell anyone else. Well, not after Virgil…was Virgil there?"

"No. Unfortunately Virgil wasn't there to back me up. If he would have even taken my side at all...And Logan was...there in textbox spirit?"

"What'd nerd-a-lerd say?"

"He…well, I wasn't really paying much attention to- I was panicking okay! But I heard enough." He looked to the side, feeling shame well up in himself again. "Enough to know that he was taking his side, just like everyone else."

He heard a mumbled "Damn pronoun name again-" before Remus clapped his hands together with a loud boom that echoed through the large room. "Okay! And I can't believe I'm saying this but- tell me the whole story. Top dick to bottom butt."

"Ew." Roman wrinkled his nose up in disgust.

"Just tell me already!!" Annnddd another shuriken whizzed past his head. This time it embedded itself in his dresser. He hoped it hadn't cracked the wood too much...

Thus Roman spun the entire tale, starting at Janus' first appearance and ending with the absolute fiasco between the callback and the wedding that had occurred a couple of days ago...or had it been several? Time had muddied itself in his reclusion. He would take several breaks in his storytelling to go off on self-deprecating tangents that sounded an awful lot like dramatic monologues from some tragic play. More often than not these tangents were cut short by Remus, who would hurry them along with crude nicknames and threats to get back to the main story.

Somehow during this storytelling process both of the brothers had ended up splayed out side by side on top of Roman's fluffy white floor rug. As if they were kids gossiping on the floor at a sleepover. Remus had busied his hands by pulling out locks of the fur from the rug while Roman's own hands gesticulated wildly with the ups and downs of his tale. As he neared the end of the story, Roman curled up to lay on his side so he could face Remus and see his reaction.

"...and then I decided to go to your room. Because I had nowhere else to go. I didn't want to stay in my room with my own thoughts any longer...but I didn't want to see any of the other sides, either."

Remus was laying on his stomach, fiddling with the rug and swaying his feet in the air. At hearing the last bit, his feet fell back down to rest on the floor. "...But you wanted to see me?" His voice was the softest Roman had ever heard him speak. It was incredulous and almost...hopeful.

"I-I don't know. I-" Roman diverted his eyes across the room, sweeping over the damage done by them earlier and eventually landing on the dingy and scratched up closet door. He stared at it for a moment in thought before looking back over to Remus. "Do you ever…Ever miss sharing a bedroom?" He murmured.

Remus wrinkled his nose and glared at him, likely upset that he had dodged the question. "Not really. Your taste in stuff is far too Gucci-Gucci-bougie for me."

"No, not that!" Roman dismissed with a wave of his hand, " Not the furniture or anything like that. Just the…the feel of someone else being there too? Knowing that someone else is always there? Someone who's kind of like you but not really? Someone you can talk to when you have no one else?" Roman ran his fingers through his hair in distress. "Does that make any sense???"

Remus was still glaring at him, but now his eyebrows twitched with an unseen emotion. "Being brothers?" He hissed.

"What?"

Remus reached over to grab Roman's shoulders and shake him silly. "What you're describing. Is being brothers. What I wanted to be. What you didn't let us be. What you rejected. Shoved into the darkest corner. Placed under a Do Not Enter sign-"

"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't mean it!"

Remus paused in his shaking, several emotions flashing across his face. "Didn't mean it?"

"I know I-" Roman placed his hands over Remus' on his shoulders but didn't push him away and lowered his head in shame. "I acted rashly and perhaps a tad extreme to our new circumstances at the time. But it was for what I thought was the best. I only ever wanted to serve Thomas. I only ever wanted to please them. I never thought- I-" He looked sincerely back up into his brother's eyes. "I never thought about what that would mean for you. What that would do to you. What that would do to us. And for that, I'm sorry."

Remus loosened his grip but didn't let go entirely, staring intensely and attentively at Roman.

"I never actually wanted to push you away. I was just doing so because I thought- Well, okay admittedly I wasn't thinking much at all really but-" His eyes briefly flickered back to the closet door "I didn't want to become a dark side too! I didn't want to not be able to see Thomas. Or to be rejected by the others. I-" He laughed then. A dry, helpless laugh. He shifted to put his head in his hands. "But I guess that happened anyway, didn't it? What sick irony, huh? Maybe it's what I deserve… Maybe it's karmic retribution…"

"..."

"I shoved you away... And now they're shoving me away! I lost a brother so I could keep everyone and everything else in my life but now- now I've lost that, too- Now I have nothing. Now I am no-"

Remus tightened his grip on Roman's shoulders again and pulled him towards himself. He ended up knocking their heads together in the process-

"Ow! What the hell are you-"

-of wrapping his arms around Roman and hugging him to himself.

"You-You're hugging me?"

"You didn't lose a brother…" Remus pouted, as if he was a petulant toddler, "I've always been right fucking here if you'd open your stupid eyes for once."

Roman let out a shuddering breath, feeling an entirely new type of tear prickling at the corners of his eyes. He buried his head in Remus' shoulder and gripped onto the back of hid brother's clothes as if he was his last lifeline. He probably was.

Sure the hug was the most uncomfortable one he'd ever had, what with the hilt of the sword in Remus' stomach poking him in his own and his forehead still ringing with the pain from where Remus banged them together, but somehow it was still nice. It still felt like...home.

"...But I thought you hated me?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"You're always calling me names and hitting me with stuff!"

He felt Remus shrug. "You do the same thing."

"You do it first!"

"Eh- that's just what siblings do~~"

"With medieval weapons?!"

"Says the guy with a stash of swords under his bed!~" Remus sing-songed teasingly.

"Oh like you have room to talk- You said you keep daggers under your pillow!"

"Shouldn't everyone? You should keep some under yours too, Mr Whiny Prissy Pants!"

"And there's the name calling again."

"Hey now, you know it's the older siblings job to pick on the younger-"

"But I'm the older sibling! I manifested my form first!"

"Eh, semantics-schmantics! Same diff!"

"You're completely unreasonable!"

"And you're too stuck up!"

Roman let out a growl and smacked a hand over Remus' face, pushing him away and breaking up the hug. Remus let out a huff and reached over to slap the back of Roman's head in retaliation. This caused them to descend into a full on slap fight, looking like a slapstick scene straight out of a comedy movie.

They roughhoused like this, like a pair of bickering elementary schoolers, until they eventually tired themselves out and flipped gracelessly back onto the floor. They both stared at the ceiling for a few silent seconds before bursting out into fits of crazed laughter.

"That was the worst hug ever! Hahaha!"

"Hey! I don't have much practice! Heeheehee!"

"Haha! We must look like a couple of insane people lying here!"

"Haha! I knooowww~~ You're room is sooo trashed!~Heehee!"

"Hey! You're the one that trashed it! Hahaha!"

"Well you're the one who invited me here brozilla! Hahahoo!"

"You're the one that brought us here! Hahaheh! I wanted to be in your room! Heh!"

Their laughter eventually died down. But just as Roman was about to drift off into sleep from his position lying on the floor, he heard Remus ask, "Do you still want to go to my room?"

Roman blinked his eyes open. He sat up and looked forlornly around his own bedroom. The thought of staying here seemed lonely, now that he'd finally reunited and reconciled with his brother. And the pictures and posters adorning the walls just reminded him of past memories that only hurt to think about right now. "......Yeah. Yes, actually." He turned to Remus, who had also sat back up, " I know, I know it sounds crazy but-"

"I like crazy!" Remus grinned and raised his fingers in preparation to snap, causing Roman to have a flashback to the previous time he did it.

"Wait! Don't turn the room upside down again! We can just sink through the floor like we normally-"

"Sink through the floor? Okay, if you say so!" His grin widened maniacally and he snapped his fingers.

The floor started to shift and cave in on itself, causing Roman's furniture to all move closer to the center. A hole slowly opened under where the brothers had been sitting that pulled them down into it. Roman screamed as they were both sucked into the abyss.

His scream ended abruptly as he was flung up into Remus' room, the hole now acting as a geyser of sorts. Roman landed in an unruly manner and was knocked out of breath while Remus landed swiftly on his knee before rolling up into a standing position.

"Home, Smelly Home!" He proudly declared with his hands on his hips, either unaware of or uncaring towards his brother's struggle to get up from the floor.

"Shouldn't have opened my big mouth..." Mumbled Roman as he dusted his clothes off and tried to straighten his appearance, only for his work to be completely undone when Remus yanked him into his side and rustled his hair with his elbow. "Hey! Stop that! Do you have any idea how long it takes to do my hair?"

"Eh, it was already messed up anyways." Remus slapped Roman's shoulder, "Now come on slowpoke, I'm gonna give you the grand tour!" Remus then ran off further into his room, causing Roman to have to chase after him in order to keep up.

Remus showed him his bedroom first, which had a mirrored layout to Roman's, but the furniture was darker and more rustic. The decorations looked more like something out of a haunted mansion than a grand palace, like Roman's did. Remus then stopped by his weapons closet, where he finally removed the flamberge sword from his stomach and tossed it haphazardly inside. From what Roman could make out before Remus had shut the door again was that the room looked bigger on the inside than the title 'closet' would suggest. Remus then pointed out a few more small areas of note before eventually leading Roman to the back door.

Every side's room had a front door- where the other sides could enter their room, and a backdoor- where each side could go out of their room and into their own personal section of the mindscape. Most sides referred to it as their 'backyard', of sorts.

Roman followed Remus out of his backdoor and onto a balcony overlooking a dark, twisted forest. The balcony itself was the same design as Roman's own balcony but was made up of black marble instead of white. There were a few cracks here and there, yet it was overall fairly stable. English Ivy crept along the rails and crawled down the side of the castle. There were no stairs in sight, unlike with his own balcony, leading Roman to wonder whether Remus would take the time to climb down the Ivy or simply jump off of the railing in order to enter his backyard.

Remus spread his arms out in a grand gesture before spinning around to sit backwards on the railing, facing Roman. "So, what do ya' think? Badass digs, right?"

Roman, lost in thought and not expecting the question, blurted out the first thing to cross his mind. "We have similar balconies."

Remus raised an amused brow. "No shit, Sher-cock. We're in the same castle. Same castle, same floor plan. Duh."

"Wait, the same castle…?"

Remus shrugged, leaning far enough back on the railing to have Roman worry about him falling over the side of it, "It split when we did. We still share a room and space... it's just-" He waved around a hand dismissively. "Halved, now."

"Ah...so that's the reason we can visit each other without going through our front doors…" Roman walked up to lean forwards on the railing, right beside Remus. "Wonder why I didn't question that sooner?" He rested his chin in his hand with a sigh. "All this time, we were even in the same castle...the same area of the mindscape...and I never- I never even bothered to visit-"

Remus, who had grown bored of the conversation and had started to pick his nose, interrupted Roman's spiral by flicking boogers at him. "Hey now, none of that. You did enough moping back in your own room, you cry baby.*

"Ugh! Ew!" Roman sputtered indignantly and pulled out a doily to wipe his face. "You're disgusting." He huffed.

Remus stuck his tongue out at him and laughed. "If you start saying sad shit again, I'll give you a wet willy." He then leaned towards Roman and started wiggling his fingers menacingly.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, bitch!"

"Well, if you do that, then I'll- Then I'll shove you off of the balcony!"

Remus faked a scandalized gasp and placed a hand over his chest while the other draped across his forehead. "You'd murder your own dearest brother?!"

"It wouldn't kill you, you overdramatic oaf, sides can't die!"

"You're calling me overdramatic?" Remus abandoned the pose to lean forward with a knowing grin. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh shut up." Roman pushed Remus away, before turning around to sit beside him atop the railing.

Remus' eyes widened. "My goody two shoes brother is sitting precariously on a railing? Since when? Is it opposite day? "

"What do you mean? I do dangerous stuff all the time!"

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Roman gestured wildly, "I slay the dragons! I defeat the monsters! I save the people! I...fight the bad guys…" Roman deflated as his hands fell beside him to lock the rail in a death grip. "But I guess I failed at all of that, huh? So much for being a goody two shoes…"

Remus hummed in thought, nails tapping against the black marble. His legs swayed back and forth as they both looked up at the night sky above them in companionable silence. Roman eventually let out a forlorn sigh and relaxed his grip on the railing. Suddenly, Remus let out a loud gasp and clapped his hands together, startling Roman who in turn almost tipped over the edge of the balcony.

"I have the best idea!"

"Oh no, you're planning something. That can never be good."

" No, no! Really, really! Listen, listen!" Remus smacked Roman's arm and shoulder excitedly in-between each word.

"Okay, okay! Just stop!" Roman slapped Remus' hands away. "Tell me then brother, what is it?"

Remus beamed and jumped to stand back on the balcony. "Okay so, you're saying that the other sides are shutting you out, right? And that they made you feel like a stinky doodoo head?"

"Gee, thanks for reminding me. Totally helps me feel better." Roman grimaced with a sarcastic thumbs up as Remus paced back and forth.

"Right! So, they're starting to treat you like a villain. And J-Anus as a good guy?"

"I- I guess? That's like the bare essentials of what happened...I mean, that's what it seems like--Ugh, just what are you getting at?!"

Remus stopped pacing to spin towards Roman and spread his hands out. "So why not just be a villain?"

"......what?"

"Join the dark sides with me!" Remus then awkwardly faked a modeling pose. "We have great fashion! And weapons! Lots of weapons!"

Roman scoffed. "I know, I saw your weapons closet." He slid off the railing to stand in front of his brother. "But what makes you think I'd want to be a villain?"

"Well, they made you feel fucking awful, right?" Remus leaned forward with a menacing grin, "So why not give them a little hell in return?"

"What, as in revenge?! I'm supposed to be a purveyor of justice!"

Remus shrugged and started circling Roman. "Where's the justice in always shutting you out? Of always telling you that everything you do is wrong? Of splitting us apart?" He stopped to put his hands on Roman's shoulders again. "Aren't you tired of trying to be a good guy all the time? Don't you just want to let loose and raise a little hell?"

Roman bit his lip and wrung his hands together. He looked down at his feet as his brother's words rang through his head. Where was the justice in that? He had always tried to do the right thing before. To be the good guy. To be the hero. But no one ever appreciated his efforts. Instead they always, always focused only on his mistakes.

The other sides' voices chimed off in his head.

"Roman, you can't do that." "Shut up Roman." "That was wrong, Roman." "Stop being so dramatic, Roman."

He pushed those invading voices furiously away and tried to reorganize his thoughts.

Him, joining the dark sides? Could it even be done? A light side had never switched over to the dark side before... Well, unless you counted the original Creativity and their split. Where a part of that Creativity had...had been pushed to the dark sides and…

Roman's eyes widened in realization as he looked back up at his brother. "You too." He breathed out.

Remus squinted his eyes and scrunched his nose at him. "Hah?"

"Always being shut out. Always being told everything you do is wrong. Being forced to split apart." Roman grabbed the hands that were on his shoulders to move them down and squeeze them reassuringly. "You experienced all of that too. Even more than I did…Don't you want to raise hell too?"

Roman grinned in a very in unprincely manner and released Remus' hands. He swept his arms aside in a grand motion. "Let's raise hell together, brother. What do you say?"

Remus stared at him blankly for a moment before breaking out into a shit eating grin of his own. "Hell yeah! Hell mother fucking yeah!" He jumped up and down excitedly and clapped his hands. "Oh! We're gonna have so much fun! Those butt holes have no idea what's coming."

Roman chuckled fondly at his brother's enthusiasm. He felt lighter than he had in years. Free of responsibility. Free of expectations. Free of limitations. Free to do whatever he wanted. Speaking of which…

"You mentioned fashion earlier, didn't you?" Roman pulled at the hem of his shirt in thought before smirking up at Remus. "I believe for me to officially join the dark sides, a makeover may be in order."

Remus nodded and grabbed his brother's hand to drag him back inside, chanting, "Makeover time! Makeover time!" The entire way while pumping his fist victoriously into the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, in Thomas' living room.

"-and a part of taking care of yourself is to not self-deprecate." Janus was explaining, standing next to Logan.

"Yeah, you've gotta compliment yourself sometimes, Thomas!" Patton added happily.

Thomas scratched the back of his head nervously. "I don't know guys... isn't that a little…"

"Conceited?" Virgil cut in, glaring over at Janus' before looking back to Thomas. "What if we end up doing that out loud in front of others? What if people think we're stuck up?"

"Well, it's better than always thinking so negatively of himself." Janus spat out.

"Janus has a point, Virgil. It's been proven that constant self-deprecating behavior can have a wide range of negative effects on one's psyche and mental health." Logan chinned in while adjusting his glasses. "Which could also lead to eventual negative effects on one's physical health, including-"

"Well, I mean yeah!-" Virgil rushed to interrupt, "He shouldn't think too badly of himself...but he shouldn't think too highly of himself, either!" He uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the empty space where Roman usually stood. "I mean, what if Thomas ends up as stuck up as Princy here, huh? What would you do then-"

"Wait-" Thomas interrupted him, "Where is Roman? Has anyone seen him lately?"

The sides fell silent as they all looked curiously towards the empty spot.

"I haven't seen him since Janus joined us... Patton, didn't you check up on him or something?"

"Well, yeah! Of course I did kiddo!" Patton nodded then pouted, "He didn't seem to want to talk to me though…"

"Has anyone actually talked to Roman in a while? Where is he?"

The sides gave Thomas varying degrees of shrugs and noncommittal answers in response.

Thomas sighed, "Really, guys?" He then looked towards the corner again and called out, "Roman! Are you there? Are you listening? If so, come on up! You should join us!"

They waited in awkward silence for a while for Roman to appear, or to at least respond to Thomas' call...until they heard a deep chuckle emanating from behind the tv.

"Join you? Nope! Not possible~"

Hands crept out from behind the tv, grabbing onto the wall, causing everyone in the room to immediately be alert. They remembered the last time they saw hands there...this couldn't be good! Something was wrong! Sure enough, Remus slowly emerged, climbing up the wall as if he was a lizard. He then twisted his head around, causing Patton to almost faint from fear. Thomas, meanwhile, backed away as far as he could without falling over the couch.

"I'm afraid he's already joined someone else!~"

Remus jumped off of the wall to land in Roman's designated spot. His head and body shifted back to their original positions and he grinned at the others with his arms spread out. Now, the others could see that along with his usual attire, he also donned a crooked and cracked silver crown atop his head. His purplish eyeshadow was gone, instead replaced with a messily applied sparkly silver eyeshadow. Some of the glitter from it fell down the sides of his face to freckle his cheeks as well. The wide grin of his lips was painted in a deep green lipstick.

"Me!"

"Remus…?" Janus breathed out, confused.

"I didn't call for you! I called for Roman!" Thomas shouted once he had regained his composure from witnessing such a horrifying sight.

Virgil bristled and stood up from where he had been leaning against the stairs. "Where is he? What did you do with him?" He bared his teeth at Remus as if he was an agitated guard dog.

Remus put his hands on his hips and threw his head back with a laugh. "What did I do to him?" He leaned forward with a smirk. "What did you do to him? Huh?"

"Wha-what do you mean? W-we didn't do anything..." Stammered out Patton.

"Also, did he change his makeup?" Muttered Thomas, "It actually looks kinda good…"

"Focus on the main issue here, dudes!" Virgil snapped his fingers at them both before turning back to Remus. "Okay, whatever. It doesn't matter wherever you put him, just give him back!"

Remus chuckled and stepped to the side, "You hear that, dear brother? Sounds like they're ready for you to come out!~"

At that, the tv seemed to flicker to life. A colorful error screen appeared and started to crackle and fizz. As the glow from the tv lit up the room, the rest of the room started to glitch along with it.

The sides glanced around nervously, fear creeping into their bones once more.

"What's going on? What's happening to the room?!" Thomas panicked.

Logan placed a hand on his chin. "These types of spatial effects seeming to happen in Thomas' physical living room instead of just inside the mindscape...could it be?"

"No…" Gasped Janus, "No, it can't be!"

"Oh but it can!~" Announced another voice from inside the tv.

Hands reached out from inside the error screen to grasp the sides of the tv. A form slowly climbed out of the tv and stepped into the living room.

"......Roman? What on earth are you wearing?!" Virgil waved a hand incredulously at his new get up.

Roman, now fully standing beside Remus in his usual spot, smirked at Virgil and flicked his cape. "It's called fashion, Midnight Query."

Roman's usual outfit was now black in all of the areas it used to be white. On top of that, he wore a red velvet cape with a white and black spotted fur trim. On his shoulder laid a skull where the cape connected and clasped shut. His upper eyelid was decorated in sparkly gold eyeshadow and thick black eyeliner which spread out into a cat-eye look. His smirk donned blood red lipstick and a crown identical to Remus' was atop his head, except his crown was golden and not crooked or cracked at all. He looked like he had stepped right out of a fairytale…but as an evil king instead of a noble prince.

"Perhaps you should try it sometime, Dark and Dreary. It might make you look less…" Roman made a point of looking Virgil up and down before waving his hand at him with a scowl, "Drab."

"Roman! Where have you been? I missed you. Your makeup looks great!" Patton rambled ecstatically.

"Missed me?" He sneered, "Ha! I bet you all didn't even realize that I was gone." Roman then looked down to check his meticulously manicured nails with a bored expression.

"Of course we did! That's why I called you!" Insisted Thomas.

Roman tsked and shook his head. "Oh Thomas, Thomas. Always the peacemaker." He moved the hand he had been checking to flip his cape over his shoulder. "But I'm not here to make peace. We're here to raise hell. Isn't that right, brother?"

In response, Remus summoned a pitch black flamberge sword and stabbed the blade into the ground. "Hell yeah we are!"

The area of the floor that he smashed cracked open to reveal an eerie green and yellow glow. Small shadow hands emerged as little demons started crawling through the cracks.

Roman summoned a longsword with a ruby embedded in its hilt and slashed at the wall. Red and orange flames burst forth from the rip as even more shadow demons started to join them.

The glitching of the room from the tv screen grew at an alarming rate, some of the glitches covering entire pieces of furniture.

"What on earth is happening!?" Thomas screamed, gesturing wildly at, well, everything.

"Roman, you need to stop this now!" Virgil growled, slipping into his Tempest Tongue.

"Yeah kiddo," chuckled Patton nervously as he tried to wrestle his hoodie away from a demon that was currently trying to steal it. "Isn't this a tad bit extreme?"

Roman laughed darkly, raising his sword into a shrug. "And why should I?"

Remus rested his elbow on Roman's shoulder, "We haven't even begun to have our fun yet!"

Janus narrowed his eyes at Remus, "Remus, this is not what I meant when I said-"

"Blah blah blah!" Remus mimed a mouth with his hand. "That's all you are, anacon-don't. All talk, no action!"

"What's going on?! Why isn't anyone answering me?!"

"Well, Thomas, it appears that Roman and Remus have initiated-" Logan started only to get interrupted by Virgil.

"They started Daymare Mode!" Virgil shouted as he angrily threw a demon that had been crawling on him into the wall, knocking it out instantly.

"Daymare Mode? What's Daymare Mode?!"

"It's a combination of Daydream Mode and Nightmare Mode." Janus explained while shaking a demon off of his hat with a sneer, "It's a state Creativity can only achieve when it's whole…"

"So, what? They can affect the real world now that they're working together?!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Thomas." Chastised Logan, "You're technically just hallucinating-"

"I'm hallucinating?!"

"Yes, that is what I just said."

A demon tugged at Logan's pant leg only to be sent running away in fear by a well-placed harsh glare.

Patton, finally having gotten his hoodie free, tied it back around his shoulders and clapped his hands. "Okay, you two! That's enough. I'm not sure what's gotten into you today, but-"

"Oh no, no, no." Roman waved a finger at him, "I'm afraid we're not going to be listening to you anymore, padre."

"We've got our own plans, Daddy DingDong!"

"Oh yeah?" Hissed Janus, "And what exactly are those?"

"You can't do them, whatever they are!" Virgil yelled out as he stomped on another demon's tail, sending it hopping away in pain. "We won't let you. I won't let you!"

Remus and Roman exchanged amused glances before turning back to the others.

"You don't have to let us do anything," Roman hummed, "We're the kings. We shall do whatever we want." He waved a dismissive hand.

"Hear ye, Hear ye! The Twin Kings of Creativity!" Hollered Remus, as both twins raised their swords triumphantly in the air, "We take no shit and kick some ass!"

"To us!" Roman high fived Remus' hand, then turned to grin menacingly at the others, "And now, time for you to go to hell."

"To hell?!" Thomas gasped, looking desperately back and forth at the other sides.

Logan's eyes widened, having figured out what they were planning to do. "Roman, if I'm correct- and I always am- then I'd advise against-"

"Too late, Deuce Banner!" Remus shouted triumphantly as he and Roman clashed their weapons together. The sound from the clang resonated in all of their heads, making their vision blurry.

Thomas gripped the sides of his head, trying to get the ringing to stop hurting his ears. His head felt like it was splitting open. And then, there was nothing. Just a fade to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas gasped for air as he woke up. Wait, woke up? Had it all been a dream? Thank god-!

"Well, well, well. It's about damn time." Drawled Roman.

"We thought you were never gonna come to!" Laughed Remus.

Thomas jumped up in surprise from where he'd been laying on the floor, only to immediately regret moving so harshly as he felt his head swim. "Ow ow ow." He gripped his forehead and peered around, "What-"

"Welcome, welcome!" Roman proclaimed as he spread his arms out in a grand gesture. "To the Kingdom of Creativity."

Thomas looked up to see Roman and Remus sitting side by side on twin thrones, one gold with red cushions and one silver with green cushions. Roman sat up straight with impeccable posture and one leg crossed over the other. Remus lay sideways across his throne, kicking his feet and tossing what appeared to be a grenade up and down as if it was a baseball.

"...What? Where am I?"

"We just told you." Scoffed Roman, "You're in the Kingdom of Creativity." At Thomas' confused frown, he continued, "You're in our room, Thomas."

"Your room?" Thomas looked around at the ornate throne room. "It doesn't look like my living room, like the others' did."

"That's cause we're not as boring as the other sides." Sighed Roman, "We have much more pizazz." He gestured at the room around them. "We did some redecorating recently, actually. What do you think, hmm?"

The throne room was mainly black, with silver and gold furniture giving the darkness a stark contrast. Banners of their two symbols hung on opposite sides of the room in correspondence with each side's throne. Overall it gave off a majestic yet eerie feel.

"It's- Um." Thomas finally stood up from his position on the floor and glanced around nervously. "It's certainly something. But um, where are the others…?"

He had long since noticed that it was just him and the twins in this room. The others had seemingly vanished into thin air. Their continued disappearance was making him more and more uneasy as each second ticked by.

Remus huffed and casually threw the grenade over his shoulder and out a window, causing an explosion to be heard outside. "What's wrong Thomathy, our room not up to snuff with the others? You prefer Daddyo's and Scene-Kid's rooms? Huh?"

"What? No!" Thomas raised his hands placatingly, not wanting to anger the two currently volatile sides, "You're room is fine! It's great! It's just they were here and now they're not here and I was just wondering-"

"They're off on their own adventure right now, Thomas." Roman butted in. He leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "That doesn't matter, though. What matters right now is us. Don't you want to stay here with us, Thomas? We can show you around the castle~!"

"Um- No, that's fine... No thank you." Thomas smiled as his voice shook. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here... I need to find the others."

Roman's pleased smile immediately fell into a scowl, "Fine, then. You want to see the others so badly?" He stood up from his throne and gestured for his brother to do the same. "Then why don't you just join them already!"

The both summoned their new weapons again, causing Thomas to start to panic. "Wait! Don't! Not again!"

"Too late, Thomas. You should have accepted our gracious offer."

"We could've had so much fun together!" Chirped Remus.

"And we will! You're just not ready yet, it seems." Roman sighed with a disappointed frown, "Now, for the time being~"

"Have fun in hell instead!~" The twins chimed in unison as they clashed their swords together for a second time.

The clanging rang in Thomas' already aching head as everything fell into the blackness once more.

#creativitwins #Darkside!roman #darkside roman #dark!roman #my fics #sanders sides #sanders side fic #i had too much fun writing this #though the living room scene was way too many characters to keep up with holy shit #yes i ended it on a cliffhanger no i am not sorry #will i continue this au?? probably not lmao #the rest is up to your i-m-a-g-i-n-a-t-i-o-n!~~~

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asciendo · 4 years

Text

Apology

Make it Right Series Chapter 5

Jean was the cocky bastard that walked around like he owned the place. Y/N couldn’t stand so when the time came that you were his sparring partner, you couldn’t wait to teach him a lesson.

Little did the both of you know, that sparring match would be the start of your unexpected relationship with Jean Kirschtein, that will change your life, and the

rest of the Scout Regiment forever.

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14/Chapter 15/Chapter 16/Chapter 17/Chapter 18/Chapter 19/Chapter 20/Chapter 21

Hope you guys are enjoying!

Feel free to leave any comments or tips hehe!

You've been fooling around with Jean for weeks now. Whenever training would get tough, you'd find him waiting for you in your room at night. The days when him and Eren would get into an argument, Jean was more aggressive in the sack, which you didn't mind.

Lately, Jean's been acting different around that caught his best friend Marco's attention. When it was dinner time, Jean would set aside a loaf of bread for you, in combat training, Jean would glare at whoever was your sparring partner that day and when the cadets would walk around the town, Jean would walk next to you to make sure carts wouldn't go towards your way and would direct you on where to go.

There was a festival within the walls and the cadets were allowed one day off to explore.

Jean and Marco were walking together as you and Sasha were admiring the wooden sculptures in one of the booths.

"J-Jean?"

"Uhm...Jean?" Marco has been trying to get Jean's attention for the last 10 minutes but he was busy watching you and Sasha browse through the sculptures.

"What?!" Jean snapped at Marco suddenly as his trance was disrupted. "Uhm...I've been meaning to ask you something..." Marco said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of neck. "What is it?" Jean rolled his eyes as Marco was taking too long to speak.

"Is there anything going on with you and Y/N?" Jean's eyes widened as his cheeks started to blush. He started thinking of all the scenarios on how Marco would know about you two. Would he catch Jean sneaking out? Was Jean's collar too low that Marco could see the marks you left on him.

"W-what do you mean going on with me and Y/N?!" Jean began to walk faster as Marco trailed behind. "It's just...you've been acting weird when she's there...like you always save her a seat in the dining hall, you get annoyed when you aren't paired with her for combat training—"

"NO! There's nothing going on!" Jean snapped which made Marco stop in his tracks. "Oh..sorry..." Marco laughed nervously. Suddenly, Jean's head snapped to your direction as he heard you raise your voice in the stall.

"I said I'm NOT interested!" The clerk at the sculpture stall was trying to hit on you, by trying, you mean not letting you leave until you accepted his invitation for a date.

"Come on, I'll make it fun I promise." The clerk winked and you wanted to slap his sly smirk off of his face. Fully aware about the rules as cadet of not being allowed to harm civilians, you clenched your fists to try to control the urge to hit him.

"I said no." You rolled your eyes as you attempted to leave the stall but he blocked you as Sasha threw a potato at him saying it was an accident. "How 'bout one kiss, then I'll let you go." The clerk was about to lean in and you lost your patience, this was worth the punishment you were about to get back in the training facility but suddenly, the clerk was on the ground.

Shocked, you turned around to see Jean with his fist clenched and breathing heavily. "JEAN!" You yelled as Jean continued to kick the clerk on the ground.

"Jean, STOP it!" You tried to hold him back but he kept going. "JEAN PLEASE!" Sasha yelled as she ended up squishing the potato she had in her hands.

"WHAT IS GOING ON." You all froze as the voice of Keith Shadis boomed into your ears. "KIRSCHTEIN, Y/L/N, BRAUS. BACK TO THE TRAINGING GROUNDS, NOW!" Shadis' face was red in anger and the three of you quickly made your way back to camp.

"Look what you did!" You snapped at Jean who stared back at you in surprise. "ME?! I was helping you!"

"I could have handled it!" You shot back as Jean rolled his eyes but continued to follow you. "What did you want me to do? Watch while that perv was hitting on you?!" Jean caught up with you and grabbed your arm for you to face him.

"I was handling it myself!"

"You seriously can't be mad at me for punching that jerk?!" Jean's eyes were a mix of anger and confusion, he had no idea why were you mad at him.

"Jean, why do you care?" The two of you froze and turned to Sasha who was munching on a potato. "Uh-uhm...I don't." Jean quickly let go of your arm and the both of you were bright red.

You were all silent as you made your way back to camp and the three of you were assigned to stable duty for the next month.

You and Jean were ignoring each other for the next two weeks. As time went by, you weren't sure of why you were angry anymore. He was trying to help and you blew up, but what bothered you was the fact that your friends with benefits situation was getting a little too complicated.

Jean on the other hand, was in the worst mood ever. He'd pick fights with Eren on a daily basis, and without you to take out his frustrations on, his sparring partner always got the bad end.

You were walking with Krista near the archery training field and Sasha was up. Sasha had the best aim when it comes to archery training but whenever the smell of food was in the air, she completely loses it.

Unluckily for you, the smell of soup being made was spread across the field as you and Krista were at the border of the shooting lane.

As soon as the scent hit Sasha's nose, she lost control of her grip and her arrow was heading straight towards you. Before you could react you were pushed to the side and you heard a scream of pain.

Lying on the ground, you noticed a body hovering above you and blood dripping from his arms. "J-jean?!" You breathed out as Jean stared directly in your eyes. Shifting your gaze to his arm, you saw a wide cut and blood dripping down. The arrow just grazed him, but it still left a deep cut.

"Agh." Jean grunted in pain as he rolled off your body and Reiner rushed to help him up. "Jean?" You said softly as he just looked at you while Reiner snaked his body under Jean's to help him stand.

"I'll take him to the infirmary." Reiner announced and you were left there speechless. Sasha on the other hand was panicking and explaining that they shouldn't cook the food near the archery field. Marco soon followed Reiner and Jean with a confused but worried look on his face.

The whole day your mind was revolved around Jean. He was always the cocky one, the one who only cared about himself which is why he was joining the Military Police. You never knew he cared about anyone else, and it was puzzling you how much your actions affected him.

You began to make your way to the infirmary when you saw Marco.

"H-hey, is Jean still in there?" You asked hesitantly, Marco gave a knowing smile and chuckled. It was obvious Marco knew there was something between you and Jean but you brushed it off. "No, he's back in his room. It wasn't a bad cut, but he'll take a few days off to rest."

"Oh...thanks." You smiled and left.

That night, you were finding it too hard to sleep. You caught yourself wondering if Jean was okay or if he was in pain. You were tossing in turning for hours and gave up. "Fucking horse-face." You grunted and left your bed.

Quietly making your way through the boys' dorm, you opened Jean's door and slipped inside. He was in a deep sleep with his healthy arm resting under his head, and his injured arm in a sling.

You slowly sat next to his body and placed your hand on his cheek. His eyes shot open and his healthy arm grabbed your wrist.

"I-it's me." You whispered and his eyes softened. "What are you doing here?"

"I just...I wanted to say—" you stammered, you weren't the best in expressing your emotions and your cheeks were heating up.

"Look, if it's about the archery field, don't worry about it." He sighed then turned to his side. Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion at his cold response, then you realized how hurt he must have been when you ignored him after he tried to protect you. It wasn't in your nature to get close to people and it scared you when he shows somewhat that he does care about you.

"I'm sorry..." You began and his eyes suddenly flickered to your direction. "I'm sorry for being an asshole...I know you were just trying to help..."

Jean turned to look at you and smirked as he knew you were turning red despite the darkness of his room. "Stop it!"

"Stop what?" Jean laughed as you began to stand up but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back to the bed. "Stop looking at me!" you giggled and he laughed as well. "That's it? That's your apology?"

"I hate you."

"No you don't." Jean smiled and you rolled your eyes. "I'm sorry for ignoring you and for being a bitch, when you were right, and trying to protect me. Happy?"

"And?" Jean wiggled his eyebrows at you. "And thank you for taking Sasha's arrow for me."

"And?" Jean had that devilish grin on his face which meant he was expecting something in return. "And what?"

"How are you going to make it up to me?" Jean's voice turned husky as he sat up to face you. You smirked and pushed him back down on the bed. Suddenly, you lowered your face towards his crotch and began to undo his pants. "Forgive me?" you looked up at him and you could tell he was turning red. "Jean...if you forgive me...I'll..." you continued to pull down his underwear and place your mouth next to his member.

"I-I forgive you." He said through breaths and you began to show him how thankful you were.

Marco always had a hard time sleeping. He had a lot of nightmares as a kid which is why he left his door open. Another thing was, Marco was also a light sleeper.

The sound of footsteps woke him up and he sat lazily from his bed. He could have sworn he saw a figure, that looked like yours enter Jean's room in the middle of the night but went back to sleep anyways.

Smiling to himself, he knew Jean was going to be in a better mood when they wake up.

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

Yeah, here I am once again. Appearing after the chaos I created 😂 but OMG WE HAVE ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT?? AND THEN THERE COMES THE ANGST?? I'M READY😎

I'm glad to inform you I finished the homework and I have only two assignments and two exams left that I will today :)) It was like:

Me: Maybe I should do this tomorrow??

Brain: But what about Dani?? And the chapter??

Me: Fuck, you are right, I need to do this :(

But anyways, here I am:

"He had been woken up by music, by love, by violence and by nightmares. And out of all those times, out of all those centuries, this was easily his favourite way to wake up." just the beginning and I'm having lots of feels🥺🥺

“Happy anniversary,” Magnus grinned against the other man’s mouth. “Happy anniversary,” Alec whispered. Fifteen years.Fifteen years since Alec Lightwood loved one man so much that he had changed the world for him." 15 YEARS? HRJWKDJDJ LOVE THEM💙

"Magnus understood why his son was acting all over the place. The boy was supposed to take up the position of Consul after Alec" *singing "Oh baby, no baby, you got it all wrong baby" *

"Next thing he knew, Alec was on top of him. His mouth was on Magnus. Where, exactly, Magnus didn’t notice – or care. He liked Alec everywhere." OH WELL, THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY! 😏

"Not the kind of banging he had hoped to start the day with to be honest." OH god😂😂 I love this man. He is the bane of my existence!” (I just- The puns are killing me 😂)

“It might be karma, darling,” (He got a point. Karma is a bitch)

“Since when do you have a problem with excessive glitter?” (Yeah Alec, Your excuses are getting worst 😂)

"You better do it, or I will tell everyone about your secret" YOU LITTLE SHIT!

"That child is the reincarnation of Christopher Lightwood!” 😂😂 i literally scared my dog cause I laughed so hard!!

"There were whispers and rumours all over the shadow world that Angel Raziel had given up on Alec’s Clave." OH THE FUCK NO!! I SWEAR I WILL THROW SOME HANDS AT HEAVEN!! "Because if Magnus found out Raziel was the one causing all this pain for Alec, he would march up to heaven and set the bastard on fire himself." FUCK YEAH. I'M COMING WITH YOU!! 🔪 🔪

“Livia Blackthorn had been listening through the Idris wards to gather pieces of information that might be crucial for Alec’s Council.” I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT WAS LIVVY!!

Selena is Ragnor’s favorite!!! I LOVE IT

“The shadowhunter was a good influence on him. Magnus hoped Alec would see it sooner rather than later.”😂😂 You love him Alec and you know it!!

“She walked over to Magnus and hugged him tightly. And he sensed it immediately. The second heartbeat.” What?? WHAT??? I ALMOST SCREAMED. OMG. OMG

“Magnus stared at the necklace. The necklace he had bought in the 19th century for Camille. The necklace that had ended up in the hands of Will Herondale and then his sister. The necklace that had belonged to the Lightwood family for generations.” OMG SHE IS GIVING HIM THE LIGHTWOOD NECKLACE!!! THAT THING LITERALLY COMPLETE THE CIRCLE. BELONGED TO MAGNUS, CAMILLE, WILL, CECILY, ALL THE LIGHTWOODS AND THE MAGNU’S SON!!

I'm freaking out now because Izzy doesn't know??? Or maybe she does???And it's waiting to tell them?? I feel like a worried parent!!!

“But he knew it was all part of growing up. He would never pressure them to talk about their feelings or force them to make themselves vulnerable. All he could do was be there for them when they were ready to let it all out. “Do you want to tell me about it?” Magnus asked. He tried. Just in case.” What do I see here? Parenting doing right💙💙

“If you want love, you must be willing to accept the vulnerability that comes with it.” I just. This man gives the best advice ever!!

“I’ll try,” Rafael promised. “I don’t like lying.” “I know,” Magnus smiled. “So much like your dad.” But Alec did lie though. Magnus pushed the thought away. (Why is this such a rollercoaster??)

“His children were so much like his husband that sometimes it made Magnus wonder if they needed him at all. It was a ridiculous thought of course. But it stilled swam around his head. Sometimes a part of him thought it would be better if Alec had been the one to stay back and Magnus was the one to leave. The kids would be better off with Alec, his mind said. He always knew what to do with them.” IT'S NOT OK TO MAKE ME CRY WHEN I HAVE AN EXAM IN 3 MINUTES!!

Back from my exam 😂😂 And don’t worry. Just got one mistake :))

“Max of course was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. His regular look. But just below the pearl necklace wrapped around his neck was the Lightwood necklace.” YES. MAX WEARING THE LIGHTWOOD NECKLACE!!

“Alec walked out of their bedroom a moment later, and Magnus quite literally felt his heart stutter. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of loving and Alec still made his heart stutter.” They are the reason I believe in love💙💙

“If Magnus wasn’t wrong, he could see the thin layer of kohl under Alec’s blue eyes. Alec rarely enjoyed wearing makeup. But he rarely enjoyed saying no to children too. Magnus threw Rafael a grateful smile and the boy winked back.” Magnus and Rafael getting Alec to wear makeup is my will to live 😂😂

“The words died on Alec’s lips when his eyes fell on Magnus. The man sighed as he stared at Magnus. Fifteen years. Fifteen years and Magnus still took Alec’s breath away.” Jagcydwjendieu I’m emo

What?” Magnus asked coyly. “Is it too much?” “You know damn well it’s not,” Alec hissed and pulled Magnus towards him. “You look perfect. How do you look so perfect?” “Because I am standing next to you,” Magnus smiled.( They bad/perfect flirting it's just *chef kiss*)

“Bapak is a good looking one in the family,” Rafael pointed out. “You are the chaotic one and I am the smart one.” “What am I then?” Alec asked dryly. “A sack of potatoes?” “You’re the sexy one,” Magnus grinned. “A sexy sack of potatoes.” (THAT FAMILY IS KILLING ME IN THE GOOD WAY💙💙)

Magnus nudged Rafael on the back. The boy sighed and walked to his brother. “Come,” he took Max’s hand and led him to his bedroom. “Let’s find you something nice to wear, okay?” Max mumbled again but followed Rafael anyway. (I just can’t with all the love this family has!!!)

“Nope,” Alec said. “They are stuck with me.” “And you’re stuck with me,” Magnus replied. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Magnus,” Alec randomly speaks poetry… And he says he is not good with words??

“Selena was wearing a blue crop top with the words “MIND YOUR OWN UTEREUS” written in gold. David was in a simple sky-blue t-shirt, the colour of Max’s magic.” OK BUT THEM?? THEY’RE BEAUTIFUL

“Max hadn't changed his clothes. But he was wearing a blue leather jacket that belonged to Rafael. He looked happy about it.” I said it once and I will say it again. They are the definition of siblings

NO!! IT'S TIME FOR THE TOAST. I’M GOING TO CRY!!

"To Alec and Magnus - for being themselves and inspiring everyone else to do the same." CHEERS TO THAT BRO!!

“Isabelle,” Magnus called gently. “Let’s go easy on the champagne tonight, yes?” YES IZZY. I’M WORRIED ABOUT YOU AND YOU NEED TO REST AND BE PROTECTED OK? OK

“The argument of “who gave the best gift” had started when Jace and Izzy had gotten drunk on vodka. It didn’t help that Alec had gotten drunk as well. All three Lightwood siblings had then proceeded to have an argument about who had the best spouse. The whole night had been drunken chaos. “

“So, Magnus had let his husband be that 18-year-old boy again. The boy who got drunk and fought with his siblings and sang songs about Magnus’ pretty eyes” 💙💙💙💙 This is just to pure

Ok, I feel like this is the chapter of the snippet from a long time ago. The one of Alec and Magnus in the closet while Mavid were talking, but I’m not sure

Why couldn’t this boy just cause chaos during his travel year like the rest of them? Why did he actually study and do his research as recommended?😂😂LMAOO

“Magnus didn’t know why. But the room suddenly felt rather hot. Poor David noticed his discomfort and came to his rescue. But unfortunately, the rescue attempt only made it worse” David, I love you with all my entire heart, but seriously??

DANI, NO! We have already been through this!! I have trauma out of this!!

OK, ok. It could have been worst

“But the time for talking was done. They were living it now.” I SWEAR I’M NOT CRYING!!

“Afraid of what?” Magnus asked. “I’m afraid you won’t find me attractive,” Alec said so quietly that Magnus barely heard it (MY HEART!!)

“But death is so much better than this. It’s so much better than waiting for the day you look at me and I no longer see that spark in your eyes.” THIS. THIS WAS THE DEAD OF ME

Fuck, i have an exam in 5 minutes and now I’m crying

Finally out of the exam 😂 This teacher literally asks us a question from the guidebook and if it's not 100% what it said there, then we fail

But going back to this HOLY SHIT I LOVE MAGNUS!!

“Did something say something to you?” Jace demanded, standing up angrily. “Because I swear by the angel-” “Nobody said anything, Jace!” Alec rolled his eyes. “I own a mirror!” “And is this mirror broken or something?” Isabelle asked incredulously. “Alec, honestly!” (I BELIEVE IN LIGHTWOOD SIBLINGS SUPREMACY!!)

“Yeah, man!” Simon nodded. “You are objectively good looking.” “Objectively good looking?” Jace snorted. “Excuse you, but my parabatai is smoking hot! He is a freaking prize, okay? If we had a magazine for hot shadowhunters, you would be on the cover page. Every single issue.” “Okay, that’s enough!” Alec interrupted. “Magnus, are you happy? Now all my friends have told me I am pretty.” “I said smoking hot,” Jace corrected. (*Sighs* I fucking love parabatai)

“Dad, I don’t know why you are so worried,” Max said in a bored tone. “You’re a total DILF.” David choked on his champagne and Jace patted him on the back. I’m dying jajdhuwejdjkew😂😂

“It means Dashing and Irresistible Looking Father” Singing again *Oh baby, no baby, you got it all wrong baby* Idk when this turned from Alec feeling self conscious to Thirsting Over Alec Lightwood-Bane but I’m here for it. Seriously. My mom is in front of me. She thinks and doing homework. And I’m just trying to keep a straight face (so hard) This is not working. I’m about to scream😂😂

2I can’t understand how you could look at yourself and not see what I see.”

“They stared at the picture on Max’s wall. The picture of Max and Rafael grinning ear to ear when they had visited Peru to piss Magnus off.” THOSE LIL SHITS!

tiEvery me they call each other baby my skin clears and i have three more years of life

“No,” Magnus managed a smile. “Sometimes things are just sad. So, you need to let yourself be sad.” 💙💙

“It’s Max!” Alec said. “We have to hide!" “Hide? This is our home!” (OH BOY😂😂)

I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAVE THE SCENE!! “When I die, I will love you from my grave,” David said now. “I will love you from heaven.” WHY DO THEY ALL SPEAK POETRY?

Don’t let him go, Magnus whispered to Max inside his heart. Don’t ever let him get away.” MAVID IS JUST SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!

“He wondered how strong a person must be to not give up on guardian angels and the idea of heaven after being dragged through hell by his demon of a father.” My boy is strong af

“I don’t believe in angels or heaven,” Alec said then. “But I feel blessed to be loved by you too.” Magnus smiled against Alec’s neck. “Stop stealing David’s dialogues.”💙💙 I have said this to much but I love them

“For the rest of the night, they danced and laughed and drank and smiled. Of course, there was the sadness of time hanging over their heads. But they ignored it. They focused on the love in front of them.” These lines are just amazing

“And sorry,” David said quickly. “I apologize if I said something out of turn before. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble-” BOY COULD YOU STOP BEING PERFECT??

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it matters who you brought the necklace for,” David said, his blue eyes on Magnus. “Everything you do is out of love, Mr. Lightwood-Bane. And I think that’s beautiful.” EVEN MAGNUS STAY SPEECHLESS!!

“That’s not what I meant,” Jace shook his head. “David and Max. A shadowhunter and a warlock. They are together. They are happy. That’s cause of you, Alec. You and Magnus did that.” Magnus smiled at this husband. “Listen to your parabatai. He gets wise so very rarely.” YES THEY DID. I’M SO FUCKING PROUD!

“But he did it now. For Alec. Because Alexander Lightwood always has been and always will be his only exception.” The Malec feelings I’m getting from this are to much

“Magnus smiled. “How do I look?” “Immaculate,” Alec whispered. In the mirror, Magnus could see himself. His dark hair was woven with strands of gray. He had wrinkles on his face, just around the eyes. When Magnus smiled, his eyes crinkled.” OMG OMG!! I’M CRYING

“Magnus took Alec’s hand in his and put it over his heart. “Promise me you will stop smoking.” THANK YOU MAGNUS. LITERALLY THANK YOU!!

“I don’t care how they look at me. I care how you look at me," Alec smiled softly. "Because I only ever look back at you, Magnus.” Alec says these things like they aren’t worth a museum

I would never tell you what to do with your body, Alexander. But-” “Well, you tell me sometimes,” Alec snickered against his mouth. “Stop making jokes to avoid serious conversations,” Magnus slapped his husband on the arm. “That’s my thing.”😂😂

“Magnus stayed awake that night. He stayed awake and told his brain to cherish every single memory from tonight. That’s how Magnus spent every night. He would stay awake and ask his mind to remember.” THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND ACCURATE I ACTUALLY FORGET ITS NOT CANON

“And then he dreamt.In his dream, he saw them again. But they weren’t smiling this time.” :) Seriously?? SERIOUSLY? I’M SO DONE, YET I’M STILL HERE??

Ugh this was so beautiful i just can- I closed Tumblr so I didn’t get spoiled 😂 Amazing as always and I’m just going to have Malec feels for the rest of the day.

P.s. I was listening to One Last Time by LP and got even more emo 💙💙

This whole thing me so emo wtf 😭😭😭

I love your reactions so much 🥺🥺🥺

Also you reading fanfiction minutes before the exam is such a big dick move istg never change bro 😎

#lbaf

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piracytheorist · 3 years

Text

Till I Can Stand On My Feet Again (1/1)

Fandom: Resident Evil Village

Summary: One simple change; Heisenberg is the one to show Ethan what he is, and drags him to watch his fight with Miranda. Scared of himself but determined to protect his daughter, Ethan’s path takes a different route. (Basically, an Ethan Lives AU cause my heart and soul need it)

Word count: 5.3k AO3

“Not bad, not bad, Winters!”

Ethan’s hand rose instinctively, gun aimed directly at Heisenberg’s head. He was walking down a series of metal pieces from the chamber that he moved to resemble a staircase.

“You would’ve made a useful ally in my fight against Miranda,” Heisenberg said. “Too bad your feelings override your logic.”

“Fuck you!” Ethan shouted, firing two bullets at him. He wasn’t surprised they ricocheted off a metal shield Heisenberg put up just in time, but he was too stubborn to regret the wasted ammo.

“You amuse me, Ethan. You’re so hard-headed you can’t even see what’s right in front of you.”

“I’d never join you!” He hadn’t lowered his pistol.

“Sure, sure. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Before Ethan could see it coming, a pair of handcuffs flew and wrapped around his wrists. He managed to fire once before his pistol was snatched from his hands, but the bullet didn’t seem to hit anything. Heisenberg threw away the gun without even looking at it, or the rest of Ethan’s guns as he pulled them off of him.

“Damn it,” Ethan said under his breath. “What the fuck do you want from me?!”

Heisenberg’s gloved hand jolted up and Ethan was flying backwards, grunting as his back met with the metal door he had just attempted to open. His hands went up and he sighed exasperatedly. At least he wasn’t hanging from them this time.

“I’m returning the favor,” Heisenberg said. “You’ve been giving me quite the show since you stepped foot in this village. How long has it been now? Barely a day, and you’ve survived so much.” By now he was right in front of him. “Did you even count the amount of injuries you sustained?”

Ethan stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“I have been watching. And don’t forget, one of those was my initiative.”

Without a warning, he grabbed Ethan’s sweater and the t-shirt under it and raised them up to Ethan’s chest. He extended the index finger of his free hand and he touched the place where he’d stabbed him with that metal pole… indeed, barely twelve hours ago.

“Look at it, it’s already scarring.” His voice sounded less amused now; more focused, serious. “It should have taken days to close, weeks to heal. You shouldn’t have been able to walk, let alone run or fight, until it stopped opening and bleeding every time you took a step.”

Ethan shrugged; if he were honest, he hadn’t actually given himself the time to wonder how it all had worked. “What can I say? The healing stuff found around here works wonders,” he said, a bitter tone in his voice.

“What? This junk?” With another move of his fingers, Ethan’s last bottle of healing salve flew from his inner jacket pocket to Heisenberg’s hand, probably manipulated by the metal cap. “Some fucking disinfectant?”

Despite the confusion setting in his mind, Ethan couldn’t ignore the relief at Heisenberg not touching his naked torso anymore. He shook his head. “It’s not- AARGH!” His sentence was cut short by a cry of pain as something stabbed through his finger. Before he even had time to raise his head to see it, a particularly sharp metal piece had pierced through the index finger of his right hand, completely cutting it off. His knees gave out and he slid down the door, his haunches dropping to the ground.

Heisenberg picked up the fallen digit, saying, “See, I was even generous to not remove more fingers from your crippled hand. But you wouldn’t need worry, even if I had. See?”

Ethan whimpered, curling his right hand into a blood-soaked fist as Heisenberg turned the finger so that Ethan could see the inside of it. “What- what am I supposed to see?” he said between gasps of pain.

“The mold, Ethan.”

His throat went dry. “The what?”

Heisenberg leaned down to him and brought the finger even closer. The lights in the room suddenly turned brighter, and in his absolute horror, among the mess of blood, muscle and bone, Ethan could see small, black tendrils across the inside of his finger, moving. His voice shook in a breathy whimper.

“Don’t tell me you think that’s normal,” Heisenberg said. Ethan gasped as the handcuffs moved suddenly; Heisenberg grabbed his right hand, keeping it steady with physical and magnetic force as he brought the finger back to its place.

“Wh- What are you-” Ethan started.

“Patience,” he interrupted.

Ethan swallowed past the lump in his throat. It couldn’t… no, the BSAA had tested him… maybe Heisenberg was toying with him, the way Donna Beneviento had?

“You think it was that liquid you carried around that healed you, right?” He lifted his head, sunglasses moving away from his face through magnetic powers. “I suppose you’ve heard of the placebo effect.”

“No…”

“No, you haven’t, or no, you can’t believe it?” His eyes were boring into him. Whatever Heisenberg was trying to tell him, he was dead serious about it.

“You’re lying. You’re just messing with me.”

“Am I?” Heisenberg shrugged, raising his hands as well.

It was then Ethan realized he had actually let him go. He looked down at his hand; his finger had been perfectly reattached, though with a visible scar around the connection.

“Even if it had been a top-notch surgeon to reattach your finger, under perfect hospital conditions, it would still take weeks for your finger to regain its full mobility, if even that.”

Panting hard, Ethan tested his digit. Though the skin around the scar itched a little, it moved as perfectly as before. He looked up at Heisenberg, who was now smiling wide.

“Wha- why…” Ethan tried.

“Why else do you think Miranda was after you?”

“What? How would Miranda even know about us?”

“Oh, she knows some powerful people.”

Ethan shook his head. “No. Only the BSAA knew where we were living, about our involvement with the Dulvey-” He cut himself off, then looked at Heisenberg, feeling like an idiot. “The BSAA?”

Heisenberg shrugged. “Weren’t they the ones who’d made you feel safe and protected enough to start a family? To have a child? The ones who probably told you you were safe from whatever shit you went through in America?”

“Wh- what shit are you talking about?”

“I stabbed you, for fuck’s sake!”

Despite himself, Ethan shrunk backwards a little.

Heisenberg went on. “The now-dead tall bitch drank your blood, strung you up with hooks from the ceiling, cut off your whole hand! Only now you’re wondering?” He shook his head, amused again. “Talk about denial, Winters. No healthy, living man should be able to reattach limbs just like that.”

“Living?” Ethan said in a weak voice.

“Well… as living as the mold inside you keeps you.”

“No, no, that’s impossible. I stopped Eveline. I killed her.”

Heisenberg smiled. “You know as well as I do that sometimes, a dead man can still kill.”

It was then that it hit him; how Dimitrescu, upon tasting his blood, had said that it tasted “stale”.

His head fell down to his hands again; she’d stabbed him with hooks, her claws, cut off his hand… and there he still was. It would be impossible, unless…

“You’re dead, Ethan Winters,” Heisenberg said.

“You know he’s right.”

Ethan didn’t have to move his head to see who had spoken; he’d had enough nightmares haunted by Eveline’s form, either as a child, old woman, or transformed mold monster, to recognize her voice.

Still, he moved it, to see the girl standing just behind Heisenberg, the same, patronizing smile on her face as always. “Stop lying to yourself already,” Eveline said. “Do you think Zoe had any real idea how to reattach your hand?”

“B-but…” Ethan tried.

“Just like Lucas reattached his cut hand. But Lucas had been alive, when I infected him. You?” She moved instantly right next to him, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Remember, when you first met Jack?”

Could he ever forget? He was welcomed to the family with a punch in the face… and Jack stomping on his head.

“That hit was stronger than Jack had intended. You were already dead when he dragged you back to the house.” Ethan shivered at the sound of a smile in her voice. “When I took you too.”

His hands were trembling; he could already feel tears pool in his eyes, and the first, stupid question to form in his mind was how he was even able to make tears. How… how could he not know? Everything else had been normal, had it not? He experienced everything he had before, hunger, thirst, heat, cold, pain… He bled. He cried.

“How exactly do you think your little Rose would be able to survive what happened to her?” Heisenberg asked.

Ethan snapped instinctively at the sound of his daughter’s name. “What ‘happened’ to her?! Or what you did to her?!”

Heisenberg raised his hands again. “I just stood by and watched. Can’t say I was really bothered to do anything.”

Stood by? He’d seen it– Heisenberg and the other Lords reaching to touch Rose… “You fucking bastard-” Ethan started, cut off by Heisenberg’s hand pressing against his mouth.

“Ah, ah. But don’t you wonder? You think she just happens to be able to crystallize and be brought back unharmed? Don’t you wonder whether she takes after you?”

After him?

His eyes widened. Mia had had the vaccine. He had not. The BSAA had reassured them both the mold hadn’t left any lasting effects on their bodies. But he… Rose…

New tears formed in his eyes, this time starting to run. To his surprise, Heisenberg seemed to show understanding, as he pulled his hand off and stood up, turning his back at him.

Was that what Mia had kept from him? Did she- had she… when… how…?

Was that why Chris had killed her? Did he want to isolate Ethan, and had he feared Mia would protest, and decided she had to get out of the way? If the BSAA had told Miranda… she would get Rose, and they would get him…

It was all because of him. Rose was… infected, because he was. Because he was too stupid, and too worried about Mia instead of himself, to notice that something was wrong with his body, before deciding to bring her into this world.

“Seeing as those old news have shocked you, I will extend my last chance,” Heisenberg said, still turned away from him. “I am going to use Rose’s powers either way, but you can choose to stand by my side and enjoy watching that bitch Miranda dying.”

Within the waves of panic and sorrow, Ethan was nearly surprised to feel rage build back up in his chest. He looked up as Heisenberg turned to face him, and actually spat at his direction. “My ‘fuck you’ still stands.”

Heisenberg shrugged. “I tried.”

Ethan’s shoulders hunched forward as he felt his rage wash off, his previous feelings surfacing again. He didn’t bother watching as Heisenberg moaned and roared, his body fusing itself with steel and iron in yet another horrific body transformation. Ethan had seen enough of those in a day that he couldn’t be bothered to feel shock at it.

The shock at realizing his own condition was enough.

Instead of throwing Ethan in a cell, Heisenberg simply passed a chain around his handcuffs, secured it to his metallic body and forced him to walk beside him and his metal army towards the ceremony site.

It seemed the asshole was still enough of a drama king that he wanted Ethan as an audience to the show of him taking revenge on Miranda.

Not that Ethan minded the idea of Miranda being taken care of. But with Heisenberg transformed into an iron giant, surrounded by hordes of soldats and zombies that for once weren’t trying to kill Ethan, he couldn’t help wondering how the hell he had any chance of saving Rose.

He was still determined to, no matter the potential cost to himself. Though, with him being already dead, what were really the limits?

He had none, he realized. First chance he’d get, he’d grab Rose and run. To where, he didn’t know.

He was nothing but a corpse full of mold. How could he ever raise his daughter properly? With the BSAA coming after him?

He had to. He owed it to Rose to find a way to save her and keep her safe.

The village looked nearly unrecognizable now. Trees made of mold had broken out of the ground in various places, ruining any house that hadn’t already been ruined by the lycan attacks. Heisenberg was leading, his tank form flattening any obstacle on the way to the ceremony site.

Ethan’s chest grew heavy; he had no weapons, his hands were literally tied, and he would be surrounded by enemies.

Just let Rose be fine. Just let Rose be fine.

When Heisenberg pushed aside the mold trees isolating the ceremony site from the outside, Ethan stopped listening to what anyone else was saying, though he could hear voices speaking, because she was right there; Rose, in the flesh, fussing and crying, in the arms of that psycho monster.

“Rose!” Ethan screamed and tried to run to her. His body twisted as the chain pulled at his hands, and for once he found himself wishing he could cut off his hand on his own. Mold wrapped around Rose, carrying her behind Miranda, to safety, as Miranda herself transformed. Ethan couldn’t bother turning to see what she looked like.

The fight started. Ethan was being struck by stray swings of swords, drills, and mold branches. Heisenberg and Miranda groaned in effort and pain, as he would try to move to grab Rose and she would move to stop him. And still Ethan pulled at the chains that kept him restrained to the metal tank, out of reach of his daughter.

The first sound that caught Ethan’s attention was the one of gunshots being fired closeby. Three shots found Miranda, and though she cried in pain, she still kept standing and resisting Heisenberg.

And then, with the sound of metal breaking and a bullet ricocheting, the pull at Ethan’s hands disappeared and he was dashing straight ahead. He wasn’t looking, he wasn’t listening, he didn’t even care much to understand what was going on. His hands were still cuffed, but that didn’t stop them from stretching forward as soon as he saw Rose, lain on top of the Giant’s Chalice behind Miranda.

“Rose!” he shouted and ran to her. She was crying softly, small feet fussing under the blanket she was wrapped in. Ethan’s breath shook when he finally reached her. Picking her up with restrained wrists was hard, but he managed to lean her against his left shoulder. A feeling of warmth rushed through his limbs when he felt her hook her tiny hands on his jacket.

She was safe; she was whole, and she was back.

He allowed himself one shaky sigh of relief; and then he was running.

With both hands covering Rose’s head, his shoulders hunched to protect her from stray attacks and gunshots, Ethan bolted towards the exit.

“No!” he heard Miranda’s distinctive wail.

Tendrils of mold sprang out of the ground, wrapping around Ethan’s ankles. He screamed out as he fell, turning to the side so Rose wouldn’t be hurt.

“You will not take her from me!” Miranda cried.

Ethan turned his head to see, terror pulling at his heart as Miranda started stretching her mutated arms towards him, until more shots found her, along with a punch from one of Heisenberg’s chainsaw hands.

The mold retreated from Ethan’s legs to protect Miranda, but then another chainsaw hand appeared right in front of him as he stood up.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Heisenberg’s also distorted voice rang out.

The ground shook as a blinding flash of light erupted, centered on Heisenberg’s form. He screamed out in agony, chainsaw hand twitching wildly. Crouching down, Ethan barely avoided it as it scraped against his right bicep. He clenched his jaw, his throat shaking with a restrained grunt of pain, then ducked away from it and once again, ran off.

He felt hot blood run from the gash down his arm. He was probably bruised in multiple other places, and his right ankle complained at every jolt as he ran down the rocky steps. His vision was starting to go dark, but he chanced one look behind him. He was out of the ceremony site.

And then another flash erupted, along with another pained scream from inside. He saw it clearly now. It was some sort of laser from the sky. He didn’t care to wonder where it had come from, or to decipher the timbre of the voice to understand who had been struck. The gunshots were multiplying now, as were the screams.

A small sound from Rose made Ethan turn to her, carefully moving her so he could see her. She wasn’t crying anymore, her face was calmer. She was still grasping on his jacket, somehow realizing the safety he was providing her.

“Oh, Rose,” he said softly, feeling a lump in his throat again.

He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing through the lump. He didn’t have time for that now. He still had to get out.

He secured Rose back against his shoulder, turned around and kept running.

His knees were shaking when he reached the square where the Giant’s Chalice was first, where the Duke was too, not that long ago. In his panic, Ethan realized he had considered him his only hope of escaping. Did he have any chances now?

“Ethan!”

His blood ran cold as he immediately recognized the voice screaming his name.

It couldn’t be…

He turned to where the sound had come from, where it kept coming as she kept shouting his name. The voice he would recognize anywhere was joined by a face and figure he'd also recognize anywhere, now running towards him.

No. Donna was dead, she couldn’t be still toying with him-

He saw Chris appear behind Mia, a rifle in his arms, and Ethan wanted to scream at her to run away from him.

But his head was dizzy, he could barely keep it up.

Mia was now standing in front of him. One hand was grabbing his free shoulder, the other was frantically rubbing at Rose’s back. She was talking to him. He couldn’t understand a word, but still her voice felt like a soothing balm on his wounded soul, nothing like the fear, guilt and anxiety Donna’s hallucinations had caused him.

When Chris spoke, however, he understood him. Because Chris said “Take the child,” and Ethan couldn’t… he couldn’t let him take her… Not again…

And then his arms were empty. Too empty. As if Rose had been a lifeline keeping him steady and afloat, and now he was about to drift off below, down into darkness and nothingness.

His eyes had already closed.

His head spun and his stomach rolled as his balance shifted; he was being pulled up, leaning on something stiff and warm, his head, arms and legs dangling.

A warm hand touched his cheek.

“Stay with us, Ethan.”

He wanted to call out for her. But his lips felt heavy, heavy as his whole body did.

“I love you. I’m right here. Stay…”

“You can’t stay with them! You can’t have a family! You’re a monster, a corpse, made of nothing but mold!”

Eveline laughed. She mocked and she giggled and she laughed.

And he could only stay there, kneeling on the cold ground, looking at the black tendrils of mold spread across his body, even over his clothes.

At least, he had made it. Monster or not, he had saved what mattered the most, his everything.

His daughter.

He was lying down on his side. For half a second, instinct was about to kick in to send his hand jolting down to his hip where his gun was.

Or would have been.

But that instinct was immediately taken over by the feeling of familiar fingers brushing through his hair. His head was resting on something warm and soft with a soothing scent.

He opened his eyes.

He saw a row of seats across from him, and he could guess he was lying on a similar set of seats. His hands were still restrained by Heisenberg’s cuffs, making him grunt in frustration.

“Ethan? Baby, can you hear me?”

Mia. Of course. Her scent. He looked down to see his head was lying on her lap. He recognized Mia’s home clothes, the ones she’d been wearing… Fuck, had it been just yesterday? That she’d been shot?

“Ethan?”

He slowly turned his head towards her. She was right there, a worried expression on her face, Rose resting on her shoulder. One hand was holding her, the other was still brushing through his hair, dirty with muck, sweat and blood as it was. Perhaps he ought to tell her, but it just felt so good…

He was struggling to keep up; Mia was alive. Rose was safe. It hadn’t been a dream; he had truly saved her. It hadn’t been a simple, easy-to-ignore nightmare either. The entire day, from watching Mia get shot, to being attacked by lycans and undead monsters, to fighting the Lords, to learning about what he truly was, it had all happened for real.

“Mia…” he managed.

“Oh, thank God.”

“How? C-Chris…”

“It wasn’t her last night,” Chris’ voice rang from the side, as he approached and sat on one of the seats across from them. “It was Miranda.”

“What?”

“She had taken my form, made herself look like me,” Mia said. “She kidnapped me yesterday and pretended to be me, wanting to take Rose too. Chris found out about her plan and tried to kill her.”

“She… she took Rose…”

“Rose is safe now. We all are,” Mia said, touching his also blood-stained cheek. “Thanks to you.”

He looked at Chris. “Why didn’t you just fucking tell me?” he asked, only remembering his promise to himself to not swear in front of Rose after the words were out.

“I should have,” Chris admitted, lowering his head. “But it all happened so fast. As soon as we realized Miranda was in your home, we had to take immediate action. I feared she might have infected you, so we didn’t know if we had the time to explain.” He sighed. He sounded really tired too. “I hadn’t expected her to survive being shot and make her move so soon. I’m sorry.”

“You were the one shooting at them?”

“Miranda and Heisenberg? My team, yeah. They were watching, waiting until you were out of the ceremony site so they could attack without any stops.”

“Where are they now?”

“Blown to bits.”

“Blown?”

“I told him you were sleeping too heavily to hear the explosions,” Mia said. “They blew up the whole village.”

Something pulled at Ethan’s heart – as much of an actual heart as he had now. Everyone in the village had been a victim of Miranda. So many lives, wasted and lost. The few villagers at Luiza’s house, the ones that had turned into lycans, even the Lords. He, the dead outsider, was the one to come out in one piece. Only Rose came out actually alive – or at least he hoped she was, in some form.

Tears prickled his eyes as he looked up at his daughter.

“You want to hold her?” Mia said, recognizing the expression on his face.

He nodded, swallowing hard against that persistent lump in his throat. Chris stood up, offering to help him sit up, but Ethan shook his head. Moving carefully, he managed to sit up on his own. His body still ached, and the longer he was awake, the more places he realized were hurting. It felt like he was all out of the adrenaline that had kept him running all day, and now the effect of everything he'd gone through was becoming more apparent.

Chris was holding a set of bolt cutters. “Let me see if I can take those out.”

Ethan turned his head towards Mia and Rose, not wanting to look at those fucking cuffs anymore. He didn’t realize tears were streaming down his face until Mia reached to wipe them away.

With a definite clank the handcuffs broke loose, and Ethan flexed his wrists around as his arms reached out for Rose. Mia handed her over.

Rose was awake. She looked up at him and smiled, hands reaching up to touch his face.

A sob escaped him. “You’re here,” he whispered. He kissed her forehead, then brought her even closer to him, nearly squeezing her against his chest.

His body started shaking with sobs. He felt Mia’s hand tentatively touch his back, and he turned towards her to lean his head against her shoulder. Mia’s hand didn’t move.

“Hold me,” he whispered, voice breaking.

He heard Mia’s shaky sigh as she wrapped her arms around him. Through his current outburst of piled-up emotions, he was somehow recognizing the irony, of a baby being calm and smiling with her parents being the ones crying.

Biting his trembling lips, he tried to focus on the sensations he’d believed he’d never feel again; Mia’s fingers in his hair, her lips on his temple, her warm breath landing on his skin.

She was never dead. He hadn’t even given himself proper time to mourn her, but he’d missed her enough for those sensations to start calming him down a little now.

His sobs were slowing down; he was still leaning his head against her shoulder, but he finally took a quick look around. He was just realizing they were in some sort of a plane. He could see the pitch black darkness outside the window, and all he could think was how everything had happened in barely a day. It had just been yesterday that he’d been home, putting Rose to bed, with fucking Miranda having invaded their house…

“Are you okay? Where were you?” Ethan asked, his voice just a little steadier.

“Miranda took me yesterday. She kept me in an underground cell in the village.”

“You were there?” He raised his head to look at her.

Tear tracks were on her cheeks too, and he secured Rose on his chest to wipe them away, feeling stupidly guilty at his fingers smearing dirt on her. But she didn’t seem to care, as she retrieved her hand to hold his.

“You were in the village, the whole time, as I was…” His voice trailed off.

“As you were rescuing our daughter.”

He shook his head, dropping his gaze. “I was only a pawn to Miranda’s experiments. I wasn’t given any choice in the matter.”

“You chose to save her. You chose to fight for her.”

A choice that had led to so much being revealed. Too much. “Mia… I…” He looked up at her; he hadn’t blamed her for keeping that secret, and it was then he realized how terrified she must’ve been of it breaking their family apart. He was as scared to admit it now as she must have been ever since she realized it herself. “You knew. About what… I am. Didn’t you?”

Her eyes widened, filling with new tears. He saw his own fear reflected on her face. However, she closed her eyes, sighed, then opened them to stare on her lap as she took her hand away, guilt clear on her face. “I did. I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you.”

“I know.”

“I should have told you…”

“I’m not sure it would have changed anything.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“I think the BSAA had something to do with all of this. How else could Miranda have known about Rose?”

Mia’s face fell even more. “She knew about me.”

“What? How?”

“She was involved in the E-series project. I only saw her once, didn’t even speak to her, but she probably found out what the outcome of that project was.”

His head spun again. He didn’t care to hear more about that project. Knowing wouldn’t have helped him, either way. “Then the BSAA must be compromised. They wouldn’t have helped us. And I wouldn’t have acted differently myself, had I known.”

“Why-” Mia started, almost upset, then collected herself. She hunched her shoulders, dropping her gaze again. “Aren’t you mad?”

His only reaction was to breathe out a laugh. “Waiting for the other shoe to drop, aren’t you?”

“More like waiting for the storm to hit.”

“You were afraid. Of how it could break us apart.” He looked away. “Just like I am now.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her turn to look at him. “Ethan…”

He looked down at Rose in his arms, already sleeping by now. “You didn’t… you didn’t know before we…”

“No, of course not.” She sounded almost shocked. “It was during the pregnancy that I started suspecting, and when she was born I was almost certain. I was in denial for some time myself. I’m sorry.”

“Mia…” He looked at her. “How… how did you stay?”

“What?”

“I’m dead.” He let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know if he would ever voice those words without feeling how heavy they weighed. “I’m no different than the monsters in the Baker house. Even the Bakers were probably better off than me.”

“No, Ethan, what are you talking about?” She touched his arm in a gentle grip. “Do you realize what you just did? You went in there, you fought, you saved our daughter. Do you have any idea how quickly, and how intensely, Jack Baker, or Marguerite, or Lucas, started to want to kill Zoe? And the monsters didn’t even have a consciousness…” She started brushing her fingers through his hair again. “It’s different. You’re still you, baby.”

“But what if that changes? What if I lose control?” He looked down at Rose, once again terrified at just how vulnerable she was, her mold status notwithstanding. “What if Rose…”

“We can deal with that, okay? Look at me.”

He did.

“I stayed because I saw you. I know you. And I love you. I was never worried you might lose control, I was just scared you would feel you don’t belong with us anymore, if you knew.”

“How... how can I belong? How can you want me with you?”

She smiled. “Who the hell else am I gonna choose?”

Hearing his own words thrown back at him was so jarring he found himself laughing out loud. New tears were forming in his eyes, and when Mia leaned forward to rest her forehead against his, he didn’t feel as dirty or unworthy as before.

“We can work with it, okay?”

He sighed, but then nodded.

“For now let’s just take a breath.”

He nodded again. Waves of guilt spread through his chest when she closed her eyes and kissed his lips. But that feeling of holding her close, of feeling she was really there, after he had spent a day – that had felt like an eternity – thinking she was dead, fearing for their daughter’s life, was enough to turn them into small ripples. Easy to manage, easy to wade through.

He had really had a long day. With Mia holding him close, and with Rose’s reassuring weight and warmth against his chest, he couldn’t help feeling that, finally, he deserved a break.

He was still terrified. But this was the first moment he could allow himself to not feel that, to let himself feel something better, lighter.

And he’d be a damn idiot if he didn’t take the chance.

#piracytheorist writes #Ethan Winters #Mithan #Resident Evil #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil 8 #re ff #re8 ff

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writersmorgue · 3 years

Text

I'm in a nightmare but I didn't fall asleep

TW: noncon, vague description of said noncon, kidnapping, non-consensual oral sex

17+ to interact

“That’s TWO out of three sports festivals you lost, Shouto. I’m beyond disappointed in you.” Endeavor’s booming voice leaves nothing to the imagination as it echoes across the barren stadium halls.

Well, almost barren.

Sero cringes from his hiding place behind the nearest wall, making eye contact with Bakugo next to him whose brows are furrowed in concentration.

“You know what, I’m fucking done. You’re going to give me one thing, and it’s going to be the future number one hero. A hero who will beat All Might, something you will NEVER do. My faith in you has been destroyed. I’ll tell them to retrieve you on Friday.”

Shouto makes a choked noise, and the two boys look at each other in confusion.

“Father please, you don’t mean-”

“I absolutely do. I gave you three chances Shouto! You’ve wasted my time and money, and now you’re going to be used like the useless bitch you are. Only serving me one purpose.”

“Please I can do better! Please don’t take me I promise I’ll make it worth your resources- AGH!” There’s a strangled shout as Endeavor grabs his daughter’s long ponytail in his flaming fist, charring the white hair

“You will do no such thing, and don’t even try escaping, I’ll hire more men if I have to. You will be useful.” There’s a scraping sound as Shouto drags her feet as she’s pulled away.

A shrill scream lets out, quickly cut off as Endeavor’s scorching palm slams over his daughter’s mouth with a sharp shut up.

Sero turns to Bakugo, gulping, as he raises a pointed thumb towards the exiting duo, “Uh, that didn’t sound good.”

Bakugo purses his lips, “No, it did not.”

Endeavor shoves Shouto into the van head first and she tumbles in, careful to mind the several men surrounding her as she skids to a stop.

“I don’t care how you go about this, you’re all suitable donors. Get her pregnant in a timely manner. Do what you want with her when the baby is born.”

Shouto whimpers as the door is slammed shut, locking her in complete darkness with a group of unfamiliar voices as they discuss who gets to fuck her first.

Her right ankle is grabbed as the van begins to move, the first man growls as she tries to pull away, and his grip tightens.

She screams, hoping someone will hear her. Her mouth burns from her father’s hand.

“NO!!! LET GO! I DON’T WANT IT!” The sound of zippers undoing around her head is what finally sets her off.

Her flame erupts, burning half of her competition shirt, save for her specially made sports bra, and singes the second-place medal strap around her neck. The disc clanks on the metal floor and the men around her shout with frustration.

“He said we could do what we want-” One of them grunts, patting some embers off of his shirt, “Someone subdue the bitch.”

Her head is slammed down onto the metal floor, and she fades away.

“Did-” Sero’s voice cracks, and he doesn’t continue.

“Yup.” Bakugo nods, explosions popping behind him as they sprint towards the speeding van, “He just facilitated the rape of a fucking minor.”

“A MINOR!?” Sero screeches, fumbling his tape as it catches on a tree branch, launching him forward “That’s not just a fucking minor, Katsuki, that’s our fucking FRIEND.”

“SHUT UP!!” Bakugo yells right back, “I’m sort of busy trying to save her ass. Obviously, since that van isn’t a puddle she can’t get out on her own. Probably quirk proof or some shit, knowing the asshole.”

“I’m calling Aizawa.” Sero reaches one hand back to his pocket to get his phone.

Bakugo grunts something that sounds like an affirmation.

A few moments later Aizawa’s gruff voice is asking who the hell is calling him at this hour.

“Aizawa-sensei!!”

“What, Sero.”

“So um, Todoroki! She, um, her dad!!-”

Bakugo growls and snatches the phone, blasting himself with just his left arm. Sero would be impressed if he wasn’t screaming internally as the van takes a sharp left, causing them to slow.

“IcyHot has been kidnapped by her dad.”

“Bakugo, I’m pretty sure that’s called having a child legally, give Sero his pho-”

“No you don’t fucking understand!!” Bakugo shouts, “We watched him drag her away and shove her in a fucking van with a bunch of assholes. He told them to rape her Aizawa. She’s been fucking kidnapped.”

“I- you’re joking.” Aizawa’s slight increase in background noise indicates he’s finally taking action, but the goddamn attitude sets Bakugo the fuck off.

“WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THIS YOU OLD BASTARD!!”

“No, you’re right, sorry. I’m getting Nedzu and sending Midoriya your way.”

“NOT FUCKING DEKU”

“Bakugo Katsuki you will shut up and help your classmate with whoever I send to you or you will be expelled.”

“FUCKIN’- whatever old man. We’re just passing the corner store.”

He shuts the phone off before throwing it carelessly at Sero.

“Bakugo!!” Sero whines as he misses the catch and watches his phone shatter on the pavement.

“Not my fault you can’t catch.” Bakugo retorts, speeding up and launching himself at the van.

Sero follows close behind.

They hear a rhythmic thumping from the inside, Bakugo pales.

“Fuck I think they’re-”

“All the more reason we should blow this fucking van open!” Sero shouts into the wind, shooting tape onto the door handle and yanking the entire thing off.

He pulls the nearest guy out by his leg and throws him onto the median.

“C’mon dipshits!! Quit-”

All fight drains out of him, instead replaced with blinding fury, when he sees Shouto.

Practice uniform already torn to shreds, she’s bleeding profusely from somewhere on her head right onto the cold metal floor of the moving van. Surrounded by several other grown-ass men, all staring at Bakugo like deer in headlights, she’s knocked out cold at their feet.

“You bASTARDS!!” He screeches, storming into the van and grabbing Shouto’s limp body into his arms, thankfully her pants seem to be relatively unharmed, it’s the glistening by her slack mouth that has Katsuki concerned.

The men seem to be too shocked to retaliate, but one of them stands, seeming to prepare some sort of excuse. Sero is faster.

Hanta whips through the vehicle, grabbing both Katsuki and Shouto with his tape, flipping the van onto its side in the process, and carrying all three of them out the other door.

The human scum scatter onto the pavement as the students roll, relatively unharmed, into a parking lot. It’s somewhere in those few seconds when Aizawa arrives, followed by a somewhat feral Midoriya.

“Where’s Shouto,” He picks one of the men up by their collar, throwing him violently back onto the asphalt when he sees his three friends laying in a heap a couple dozen yards away.

“SHOUTO!” He calls, practically teleporting to their location and digging through Katsuki and Sero to reach her.

“Jeez we’re fine too, Deku, thanks for wondering.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, pulling Shouto’s limp body into his arms, “Is she- what happened?”

Sero starts nervously explaining, wringing his hands as he looks back and forth between Shouto’s unconscious form and Izuku’s increasingly rage-filled eyes.

He WHAT?!” Green lightning crackles over his skin, stopped abruptly with a firm hand from Aizawa on his shoulder.

Aizawa walks over and crouches, pulling a swab out of his scarf, “Had Momo make me one,” He grunts at Sero’s confused expression.

He sighs, reaching over to Shouto’s face and swiping it around her lips, “Unfortunately I figured we’d need it.” He tucks it into a plastic bag and stuffs both into his suit pocket.

Katsuki huffs, an unreadable expression fixed on his face as he stares down at the girl.

“They got her pretty good,” He reaches a hand out and tucks a strand of hair over, so Aizawa can get a look at her head injury, “probably tried to put up a fight.”

The teacher nods, “and you heard her father approve this- kidnapping?”

“Yes sir,” Sero speaks up, and Midoriya growls.

“I fuckin’ knew he was bad news,” Katsuki scoffs, “always draggin’ her around and shit. Probably paid for them to fuck her up too. Said he wanted her knocked up.”

“He,” Sero’s voice is strained, “he said she was a disappointment that he was giving up on her. She knows that’s not true- right?”

Aizawa hums, pulling out a bandage to wrap Shouto’s head, “well you’ll just have to show her.”

The boys make eye contact, and Izuku pulls her closer.

“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees, “we will.”

Shouto wakes up screaming, clawing at her face as blood begins to seep down her cheeks.

“Todoroki wait!!! Todoroki you’re okay! They’re gone!

Hands pry her bloodied nails away and her energy is sucked away as a kiss is pressed to her cheek.

“You kids I swear, never a dull moment.” Recovery girl tuts.

She passes out again.

The next time is much calmer, warm light pools around her eyelids and she cracks them open, reaching a hand up to rub the sleep out of them. But in doing so she jostles the hand that had been resting on her own.

“Todoroki?” Sero whispers, raising his head up slowly, eyes widening, “Todoroki!!”

He lunges forward, encasing Shouto in a bear hug.

“Oi, hands off, she’s in a hospital bed for fuck’s sake tape face.”

“Right,” Sero smiles sheepishly, pulling back, “right sorry.

“It’s okay,” Shouto admits, because she really has no idea why there’s any need to be careful, “I’m fine.”

“Oh?” Katsuki’s raised eyebrows suggest she said something wrong, “You call a nasty concussion and almost clawing your own eyes out fucking fine? Guess we have different definitions of the word.”

Shouto frowns, “I don’t remember that last bit.”

Her head hurts slightly, but she feels like she would remember something like that even through a concussion.

She tracks her memory back to before, but she can’t quite seem to remember-

The van, the men, the smell, the sound as he shoved his-

“Shouto?”

She snaps her head up, “Huh?”

“Sorry, you were quiet for a bit,” Midoriya rests a hand on her blanketed leg and rubs it back and forth, “god nervous. You alright?”

They’re all staring at her now.

“Does he know I’m here?”

All three sets of eyes darken, but it’s Midoriya who speaks up.

“He doesn’t matter. Aizawa has custody of you as of now. Your pitiful excuse for a sperm donor has been taken into police custody for aiding in the rape and kidnapping of a minor.”

Shouto gets a distant look in her eye, “Oh” is all she says.

“They didn’t get that far,” Sero gestures to her bandaged torso, where one of the men had tried to take off her uniform pants.

“But they still-” She begins, suddenly nauseous.

“Yeah, they did. And that bastard has been taken into custody just like the rest of em’, he’s not getting out for awhile, especially since the DNA samples matched.” Bakugo informs her.

“Oh,” Shouto hums absently, “there were samples.”

“Shouto, you with us?” Midroriya squeezes her ankle gently, but she doesn’t respond, “Everything’s gonna be alright now. You can rest.”

And she does.

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